EARLIER WHEN THE STRANGE MAN HAD LEFT WITH HER CLOTHES
Isabella let out a slow breath, glowering at the water’s rippling surface. The jungle was silent again, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant cries of strange creatures. More importantly, the annoying panther-man was finally gone.
And yet, she was still stuck waist-deep in the water like a sad little frog.
Her eyes twitched. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t just live here now. But stepping out ant walking around in naked.
Frustrated, she ntally called on her last hope.
"Bubu."
Silence.
"Bubu, answer , I know you’re there!"
There was a long pause before her system’s cheerful, high-pitched voice finally rang in her head.
"Host, why are you calling so pitifully? Did sothing happen? Are you being eaten? Are you—"
"No! But I might as well be! Do you see my situation?! I am STUCK in this stupid river!" Isabella snapped, slapping the water in frustration.
"Ahh... I see, I see," Bubu humd in a way that made Isabella suspicious.
"Well? Are you going to help or not?" she demanded.
There was another pause.
Then Bubu giggled.
"Nope!"
Isabella’s brain short-circuited. "Excuse —?"
"Host, this is a survival world. That ans you have to survive. That ans no outside help for basic things! This is a character developnt mont for you—"
"CHARACTER DEVELOPNT?! Bubu, I am standing in water like an abandoned kitten! What kind of tragic arc is this?!"
"A necessary one," Bubu replied sagely.
Isabella gaped. She actually felt betrayed.
"What do you an necessary?! My legs are pruning! You’re just watching suffer!"
"Host, think of it this way: You are simply marinating in the essence of the jungle, absorbing survival energy—"
"I SWEAR TO—" Isabella inhaled deeply, willing herself not to lose her mind.
Bubu let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Host, you got yourself into this ss. You can get yourself out. I believe in you!"
"I don’t NEED belief, I need CLOTHES!" Isabella groaned, sinking further into the water.
Bubu giggled again. "Good luck, host! I’ll be cheering for you—from a safe distance!"
And with that, the system went completely silent.
Isabella sat there, staring at the sky in sheer betrayal.
She was going to kill sothing. Probably Bubu.
With a deep, long-suffering sigh, she resigned herself to sitting in the water until a miracle happened.
...That miracle better not be another random beastman.
20 MINUTES LATER
Isabella blinked. Hard. The man—Zyarn, Naked nace of the Jungle—was holding sothing up, and it took her a second to register what it was.
Clothes. Not just a single piece, but an entire neatly folded stack of them. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this so kind of weird offering? A jungle tax for trespassing in her own bath?
She was confused at first, and still wary, but then she realized he was simply being nice.
Yet the clothes looked really good compared to all the hide clothing she’s seen so far, he must not be ordinary.
"You better co out of the water," he said smoothly, his voice carrying way too much amusent for her liking. "You can’t stay in there forever."
Her body went rigid. Oh, she knew that sentence had two anings.
One, the literal ’you can’t stay in the water forever.’ Two, the very much implied ’you have to co out eventually, and I will be right here waiting.’
Her eye twitched. "You—" she inhaled sharply, then snapped, "Go to hell."
He laughed, the sound rich and deep, like he wasn’t currently harassing a defenseless, very naked woman.
But despite herself, Isabella couldn’t deny a small—very small—sense of gratitude.
Clothes were a much-needed improvent over her current situation. Even if they were offered by a smirking, smug beastman who refused to leave.
She turned away, folding her arms. "Fine," she huffed. "Turn around."
Zyarn arched an eyebrow, his eyes clearly saying he had no issue staying exactly as he was. But after a mont, he sighed dramatically and turned, much slower than necessary.
Isabella glared at the back of his head, just in case he dared peek. Then, moving cautiously, she slowly erged from the water.
The air hit her bare skin, sending a chill down her spine, but she moved quickly, grabbing the top piece of clothing and shaking it out.
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.
They were... cute.
White, soft, and made entirely of fur, but the real shocker was the craftsmanship. The stitches were clean, the design was actually stylish, and—hold on.
She flipped the fabric over in disbelief. The people in this era could sew like this? What happened to Stone Age fashion being leaves and animal skins crudely tied together?!
She wasted no ti slipping into the first piece, relishing the warmth. Then, out of nowhere, her system’s voice chid into her head.
"Congratulations, you opened a space."
Isabella froze mid-adjustnt. What?
Nope. Nope, she was not dealing with that right now. She shoved the thought aside and quickly continued dressing, ignoring the new magical wardrobe dinsion she had apparently unlocked.
She had bigger issues to deal with—naly, the half-naked panther-man standing a few feet away.
When Zyarn finally turned, his expression imdiately shifted. His red eyes widened slightly, taking in the sight of her fully dressed in the white fur outfit. His gaze moved slowly, from her rosy lips to the way the outfit hugged her figure.
His jaw tightened.
Then, in a deep, serious voice, he announced, "I want to pursue you."
Isabella choked. She imdiately took a step back from shock and fear. "What—NO. Absolutely not."
Zyarn tilted his head, unfazed. "I see. You don’t want . You don’t want this. You don’t want that." His tone was light, teasing, but his eyes glead with sothing unreadable.
She scowled. "Exactly."
He humd. "I won’t force you, then." But there was sothing in the way he said it, like he wasn’t completely convinced. "Still... I have a feeling we’ll et again."
She crossed her arms. "That’s not a feeling, that’s a threat."
He smirked. "Call it what you want."
Isabella narrowed her eyes, but before she could argue, she noticed sothing—he seed rushed. His usual leisurely attitude had a new edge to it. Like he had sowhere to be.
She frowned. "You’re in a hurry."
He exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. My sister is waiting for ."
She blinked. Sister? That was unexpected.
"I’m not from here," he continued. "I was just passing through so villages. Guess I got lucky." His smirk deepened. "Not every day I get to et a goddess."
Isabella rolled her eyes, but her cheeks betrayed her. Warmth blood across them, traitors.
Zyarn didn’t miss it. "I hope we et again," he murmured.
Before she could snark back, he stepped forward and—without warning—leaned down, pressing a quick, warm kiss to her cheek.
Isabella froze.
Her brain shut down.
By the ti she snapped back to reality, he was already shifting mid-air, transforming back into a panther, and taking off into the trees.
Isabella watched him go, eyes slightly wide, her hands absentmindedly touched her cheeks, but then she shook her head as if realizing what she was doing.
Slowly, she exhaled, rolling her eyes.
Of course, she was beautiful. She knew that.
But still...
She had better things to worry about.
Turning on her heel, she firmly ignored the warmth lingering on her face—and went straight back to the system.
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