Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 279 --

Kaya waited. And waited. And waited some more. The woman still didn’t move—not a word, not even a twitch. After twenty long minutes of staring into those wide, unblinking eyes, Kaya’s own eyes were tearing up. She finally let out a helpless laugh, smiling awkwardly as she backed away.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples. How do these people even thrive? Seriously. Is it just because they’re beasts, so they inherit every weird trait along with it? Whatever.

Still mumbling to herself, she wandered off, half-annoyed, half-bewildered—until suddenly, her foot sank into something soft and squishy.

She froze. Slowly, she looked down.

Her eyes went wide.

Her foot was planted right on the face of a capybara. A real, full-form capybara—blinking up at her with the same patient, soul-piercing stare as the woman from before.

Kaya almost screamed.

Kaya bent down in a hurry, staring at the capybara beneath her foot. How the hell did I even step on something this big? He wasn’t small—definitely not some pebble lying around. More like a baby capybara sprawled across the ground. It must’ve been because she was used to kicking stones out of her path; she’d felt resistance underfoot and just lifted her leg without even looking.

Now, though, her footprint was imprinted across the poor thing’s face.

"Oh, crap," Kaya muttered, crouching lower and hurriedly brushing the marks away. "I’m really sorry! I didn’t see you there—"

She stopped mid-apology.

Because the capybara was staring back at her. Not blinking. Not moving. Just... staring.

Kaya’s lips twitched. She forced out an awkward smile, hoping—begging—for the beast to blink, snort, something. But nothing. That steady, glassy gaze didn’t even flicker.

"Right... okay..." Kaya mumbled under her breath, shifting uncomfortably. He’s in his animal form, so it’s not like I can just yell at him to quit it. What am I supposed to do, apologize again? Bow? Run?

Her eyes darted around, looking for help, for anything—and then she saw someone approaching.

A man. His expression serene, calm, almost unnervingly so. His skin was a warm brown, but his hair... yellowish, sun-faded, like someone had been left under the desert sun too long, with a soft black tint running through it.

The man bent down and scooped up the tiny capybara, holding it effortlessly in his arms. Its round eyes blinked slowly at Kaya, and for a moment, she froze—her heart practically jumped into her throat. What the hell kind of stare is that...?

Shaking herself out of the shock, Kaya headed back to the hut, only to find Veer stretching languidly on the floor. He yawned, eyes half-closed, and lazily glanced at her.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost," he said casually.

"I might have," Kaya muttered, scowling. "What kind of strange-ass tribe is this?"

Veer’s interest peaked as she recounted the capybara incident. Then, all at once, he exploded into laughter, clutching his stomach and rolling on the floor like a man possessed.

Kaya’s face darkened into a storm cloud. "What the hell are you laughing at?" she snapped.

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Veer managed to say between chuckles, "Seriously, Kaya... capybaras are legendary in every tribe."

Kaya blinked. "Legendary? For what? Being lazy blobs?"

Veer shook his head, smirking. "No, no. The danger isn’t obvious. They don’t react. They don’t fight. They just... exist. You can throw sticks, shout, threaten—nothing. They stare. Just stare. Without blinking. That’s their superpower."

Kaya stared at him, unamused. "You’re joking, right?"

"Try me," Veer said, leaning back. "Hunters don’t touch them. Eat one, and you’ll end up as dumb as it. Nothing provokes them. Nothing."

Kaya huffed. "So... they’re basically useless."

Veer laughed again, shaking his head. "Useless? No, Kaya. That’s the point. Nothing bothers them. Nothing frightens them. They stare, they eat, they sleep. And somehow... everyone fears them. That’s why they’re blacklisted. Every tribe knows not to mess with a capybara."

Kaya crossed her arms, scowling, but a flicker of amusement betrayed her irritation. So that’s why that little monster stared me down like it owned the world...

Veer’s grin widened. "See? And that’s just the start. Wait till you meet the others."

Just as Veer had said, staying among this tribe was... unsettling. Everyone would stare. Always. Sometimes it felt like they weren’t even breathing, just locked in a perpetual gaze. And Veer? Oh, he was having the time of his life. Every now and then, he would lock eyes with someone, grin, and stare back, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d sown.

Kaya tried to remember the words exchanged with the tribe members. She quickly realized there weren’t many—just basic, repetitive phrases like, Did you eat? Can I have that? Everything revolved around food. Nothing else. Not conversation, not gossip, not feelings—just food. And the way they stared while doing it... it was unnerving.

Yet, after just one day, Kaya couldn’t help but feel a strange calm wash over her. A monk-like serenity—or at least, a very peculiar version of it. Could monks really just stare at the world like this? she wondered. No. Surely not. Even the calmest monks would snap if someone insulted their god or messed with their belongings. But here, a simple stare carried more weight than any shout or fist.

Kaya’s disbelief reached peak levels when she witnessed two little girls "fight." But it wasn’t a fight as she knew it. They stood toe-to-toe, glaring at each other, eyes wide, faces flushed, and... did nothing. Not a punch, not a yell, not a word. Just staring. The next day, Kaya walked past the same spot, and they were still there. Staring. The dark circles under their eyes made them look like panda ghosts, but they hadn’t moved an inch. She pinched her forehead. What kind of tribe is this?

It was maddening, fascinating, and... strangely mesmerizing all at once.

Veer and Kaya didn’t have to lift a finger while they stayed with the Capybaras. Honestly, there wasn’t much to do.