The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts
Chapter 455: Please tell me that’s not what I think it is
CHAPTER 455: CHAPTER 455: PLEASE TELL ME THAT’S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS
Isabella sat cross-legged by the small blue-glowing pond, a half-devoured strip of meat in one hand and grease glistening on her lips. The cave smelled of smoke and spice; her stomach, usually stubborn, growled loud enough to echo.
"Oh my god," she muttered between bites, "I’ve been starving myself." She tore off another chunk, chewed noisily, and closed her eyes in bliss. "This is so good I could cry."
Glimora was sitting on her lap like a spoiled kitten, mouth smudged with sauce, nibbling her own piece of roasted meat. When Isabella offered her water from the pouch, the tiny creature tilted its head back, drinking eagerly before letting out a tiny, satisfied burp.
Isabella snorted. "At least you appreciate fine dining." She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, looked at the glowing cube floating quietly near the wall, and said through a mouthful of food, "You know, Bubu, I wish you could eat. I’d give you some too."
The cube stayed silent for a second. Then, with a soft ping, lines shimmered across its surface.
Two glowing circles blinked open—not like dots on a cube, but eyes. Real, expressive, with faint gold irises swirling like data streams. Beneath them formed a nose, small and perfectly carved, and a mouth that curved into a smirk that was way too human for a system.
Light shimmered across its once-smooth cube shape, warping the edges until it was no longer a cube at all, but a soft, hovering head made of light and mist. The faintest traces of expression ghosted over its features—eyebrows flicking up, lips twisting in mild exasperation—before it rolled its eyes at her.
Isabella froze mid-bite. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"
Bubu’s mouth-line moved. "Well, yes. Someone has to keep your delusions in check."
She gasped dramatically. "Aha! I knew it! You do have humor! You can be sassy!"
"I’ve always been capable of that," Bubu replied in that dry, deadpan tone that somehow sounded smug. "I just try to tone it down. You, however, never rest."
Isabella put her hand on her chest, pretending to be offended. "Me? I’m the picture of peace and grace."
"Grace doesn’t chew like that."
She swallowed hard, glaring. "Oh, so you’re back, huh? Not all robotic and cold anymore. Took you long enough."
"Someone had to maintain a little professionalism," Bubu quipped. "You were becoming boring."
Isabella blinked. Then her lips twitched into a slow grin. "You just called me boring."
"Observation, not insult."
"No, no, you insulted me. That means you missed me."
The cube tilted its glowing "head." "It means you exhaust me."
"Same thing."
For a while, only the crackling of the fire and the dripping of water from the cave ceiling filled the air. Isabella licked her fingers clean, still smiling faintly. The mountain wind whispered through the opening of the cave, carrying faint echoes of distant howls.
Then, softer, she said, "Hey... don’t go back to being a cube, okay? I like you better like this."
Bubu floated closer, the faint light from its surface dancing across her face. "This isn’t actually my face."
"I don’t care," she said simply. "It looks like a face to me. So keep it."
Bubu’s mouth twitched into something close to a real smile. "As you wish, Host."
"Good." She leaned back, fed Glimora another piece, and sighed contentedly. For the first time that day, everything felt quiet—no beasts, no fear, no impossible quests. Just warmth, food, and her little strange family.
Then, with her usual chaotic timing, she looked up and asked casually, "So... if I give birth, will my children come out in egg form?"
Isabella leaned back against the cool stone, licking the last of the meat grease off her fingers and sighing with full-belly satisfaction. Glimora was curled against her lap like a warm dumpling, purring softly. The fire crackled. The cave shimmered with faint blue light reflected from the pond.
She was content. Almost content.
"Hey, Bubu," she said between lazy chews, "how do snake kids even come out? You know... eggs? Live birth? Something in between?"
The system’s luminous face flickered into view beside her—gold eyes, faint light-lips curved in an expression that screamed oh no, not again. "That," Bubu said, "depends."
Isabella squinted. "Depends? On what? The mood of the snake?"
"On the bloodline. On the environment. On, well... a lot of things. Snake beastmen rarely have female offspring, for instance."
She froze mid-bite. "Wait, rarely or in never? So you’re saying my entire body is about to turn into a sausage factory of boys?"
"I did check your current state," Bubu continued calmly, ignoring her drama, "and there’s a possibility you may give birth to a female."
For a split second, Isabella just blinked—then she gasped so loud it echoed. "Really?! My first baby girl?!" She clutched her chest as though she’d just won the lottery. Glimora squeaked from the sudden movement. "Did you hear that, Glimmy? A baby girl! A mini me!"
Bubu looked mildly alarmed. "I said there’s a possibility. Not a guarantee. I know you’ll hold it against me if it doesn’t happen."
"Oh, please," Isabella said with a dismissive wave, grinning wide. "I would never."
"Yes, you would," Bubu muttered.
She ignored it, kicking her feet happily like an overexcited child. "So no eggs, then?"
"It depends."
"Bubu."
"I said it depends," the system repeated, trying not to sound too amused. "And I am not saying you will give birth to a baby girl. I’m merely offering a hypothetical so you don’t start throwing a fit later."
"I don’t throw fits."
"You literally screamed when I told you about the hundred-baby probability."
"That was a trauma response!"
"Mm-hmm."
Isabella glared at it, but her smile didn’t fade. "Fine. You’re no fun. Anyway, how long does this whole process take? Don’t tell me it’s like nine months, because I will lose my mind."
Bubu’s golden eyes flickered. "Normally, snake beastman pregnancies last one to two months. Quick, efficient, relatively painless."
Her eyebrows shot up. "One to two months? Oh, that’s fantastic!"
"However," Bubu added smoothly, "if it passes two months, that could indicate a female child. In such cases, development slows to align with the lunar cycle."
Isabella blinked. "Wait—hold on—you’re saying that if it takes longer, I might actually get a baby girl?"
"Yes."
She gasped dramatically. "So the more she makes me suffer, the more likely she’s a girl. Oh my god, she’s already like me!"
Bubu gave her a long, flat stare. "You sound far too proud of that."
"I’m just saying," Isabella said, hugging her knees with a gleam in her eyes, "if she’s anything like me, she’ll be perfect."
"Or exhausting."
"Both." She winked.
Bubu sighed, shaking its glowing head. "You’re impossible."
"And you love it."
The system didn’t even bother denying it.
For a moment, the cave fell into a calm hush. The waterfall hummed softly in the background; faint golden motes drifted through the air like lazy fireflies. Isabella leaned back on her palms, smiling faintly.
Then something shifted.
A faint ripple disturbed the pond’s still surface.
Isabella’s head snapped up. "...Did you see that?"
Bubu’s light dimmed, scanning the water.
Another ripple. Then another.
The surface began to swirl.
"Uh—Bubu?" Isabella’s voice went up an octave.
The system said nothing. Its face flickered sharply, eyes narrowing as data streamed behind them.
She stared at the pond, heart pounding. The water shimmered once, twice—then something beneath it moved.
Her eyes widened. "Oh, hell no."
Another movement. Stronger this time.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t small.
The calm pond began to glow faintly, brighter, pulsing with heat and magic. Isabella felt her stomach drop.
She swallowed hard and whispered, "...Please tell me that’s not what I think it is."
Bubu didn’t answer.
The ripples turned into waves.
And then—something began to stir from the depths.