The village was straight out of a history textbook—no, worse. It was pure
Stone Age chaos.
Huts made of rough stone and dried leaves were scattered around, their entrances covered with animal hides.
Fires burned in the center of communal areas, crackling as they roasted chunks of meat.
Clay pots, crude wooden tools, and baskets overflowing with strange fruits lay around, and in the distance, women washed clothes in a river while kids ran around completely naked, screaming with joy.
Beastmen of all sizes filled the area—massive, towering warriors, lean and athletic hunters, older men with thick fur cloaks, and young, wild-eyed males who wrestled in the dirt like overgrown puppies.
There were females too—tall and striking, with fierce, untamed beauty. Their wild hair was thick and unbrushed, their sharp features bold and commanding.
And of course, there were
babies
—tiny, chubby little beast-kids with tails and fluffy ears, rolling around or clinging to their parents.
There was an energy to the village—
cheerful, loud, wild.
And then there was Isabella.
Limping.
Struggling.
Attracting so
much
attention.
Every step
hurt
. Her legs
still
throbbed from her earlier injury, but she clenched her jaw and
ignored
it. It wasn't like she had a choice—she had less than 5 hours to find a stupid
four-stripe Beastman.
The glowing system timer was
still
hovering in her face like some kind of
demonic countdown.
4:36:23
She scowled at it. "I get it, I'm on a time limit. Stop following me like a creepy stalker."
Unfortunately, the system didn't care about her suffering.
"User stats incoming."
A sudden blue screen
popped
up in front of her. Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, nearly stumbling over a stone again.
She stared at the stats in horror.
Name: Isabella Devereaux
Race
: Human
Age
: 21
Power
Rank: F-
Cultivation
Level
: None
MAIN
STATS:
Survival
Rate
: 1/100
Health
: 0/100
Stamina
: 0/300
Strength
: 0/1000
Agility
: 5/500
Combat
: 2/1000
Defense
: 1/100
Charm
: 100/100
ADDITIONAL ATTRIBUTES:
Intelligence
: 75/100
Survival
Instinct
: 5/100
Her breath hitched.
Was she... a
weakling?!
Her
survival rate
was
1/100
ONE?!
Her
stamina
was
zero
—like, literally
zero?!
Her combat was
2/1000
, which might as well
be negative infinity.
Even her
defense
was a pathetic
1/100
, meaning if someone sneezed in her direction too hard, she'd probably
die.
But
of course
, her
charm
was
100/100.
Because
obviously
, looking pretty was more important than
not dying.
Isabella
wanted
to
cry.
Her health was the worse
0/100?!
, and she was
pretty sure
it was because of this
disgustingly
unhygienic place that gave her this fate. The air smelled like sweat, dirt, and whatever the Beastmen used as soap
(if they even used soap at all).
And she was stuck here with no stamina,
no strength, and the durability of a soggy piece of bread.
She hesitantly glanced at the other tabs:
[ABILITIES & SKILLS]
[SYSTEM SHOP]
[SYSTEM NOTES]
Maybe she had
some
redeeming qualities?
With a flick of her mind, she opened [ABILITIES & SKILLS].
And instantly regretted it.
[ABILITIES & SKILLS]
[PASSIVE ABILITIES]
Pain Tolerance
: Low
Adaptability
: Minimal
Luck
: Standard
System
Assistance: Active
The Diva's Aura
: Increases influence over others, with variable effects.
Natural Beauty
: Enhances persuasion with males; increases hostility from females.
[SKILLS]
Cooking
: Lv.0 (1/50)
Foraging
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Crafting
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Combat
(Hand-to-Hand): Lv.0 (Locked)
Combat
(Weapons): Lv.0 (2/50)
Trading & Negotiation
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Persuasion
: Lv.0 (0/500)
Leadership
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Skincare & Beauty
: Lv.5 (0/10000)
Fitness & Training
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Beastman Culture Knowledge
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Beast Taming
: Lv.0 (Locked)
Her mouth fell open.
"NO, NO, NO—WHAT IS THIS?!"
She
knew
the system was messing with her.
Her
Pain Tolerance
was
low.
Her
Adaptability
was
minimal.
She had no
survival skills whatsoever.
But the real
insult?
Skincare & Beauty: Lv.5.
She couldn't
fight
,
couldn't forage
,
couldn't survive
—but at
least
she had flawless skin.
And to top it all off—
The Diva's Aura
: ???
Natural Beauty
: Enhances persuasion with males; increases hostility from females.
She
knew
it. She
knew
this was why those beast-women kept glaring at her like she personally insulted their ancestors.
Isabella
wanted
to
throw hands
, but unfortunately—
Combat (Hand-to-Hand): Lv.0 (Locked).
...She literally
couldn't.
Trying to calm herself, she clicked on the [SYSTEM SHOP].
Only to be hit with—
(Access Limited Due to Rank F-/low points).
Now, now, this was officially
depression-inducing.
"Was I sent here just to suffer?"
So it was either her rank got higher, or she gained enough points?
She closed the screen with her mind before the system could
hurt her feelings any further.
Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened her posture.
She needed to
focus
. She had a mission.
And no matter how
pathetically
weak she was, she was not about to die in some prehistoric village surrounded by
horny Beast-men
and
aggressive
aunties.
Isabella strode up to a group of women, their imposing figures making her feel like a malnourished gremlin in comparison.
They were stunning, but in an utterly wild way—tall, broad-shouldered, and oozing raw, unpolished strength.
Her legs ached from walking, but she ignored it. She had a mission.
"Hey," Isabella called out, stepping into their circle like she belonged. "I need to find a four-stripe beastman. Know where he is?"
Silence.
Then, one of them, a woman with dark green hair and piercing yellow eyes, let out a short, sharp laugh.
Another snorted, elbowing her friend. "What, does she think she can just ask and waltz up to him?"
"Maybe she's confused. Poor thing looks like she lost a fight with a swamp," one added, smirking.
The others chuckled, nodding in agreement.
Isabella blinked. "Okay, rude. But focus. Do you know where one is or not?"
A taller woman leaned down, pretending to inspect her. "Are you... actually a female? Or some kind of hairless beast cub that got lost?"
"I think it's a crazy beggar," another whispered loudly, though it was very much meant to be heard.
"Yeah, she smells like one," the yellow-eyed one added, wrinkling her nose. "Like old sweat and despair."
Isabella clenched her fists.
Okay. Deep breath. Don't punch anyone.