Apocalypse Prefer the Beast World Real Estate Market (Joyread) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Today’s Lunch Is You, Mr Potato

The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only Rosalie and her beastmen inside the room.
The room was deathly silent—only Declan’s furious breathing could be heard.
“Matriarch, are you all right?” a weak voice called from outside.
“Ahem!” A violent cough rang out.
Cameron rushed out within a few steps, then shouted anxiously, “What do we do? Micah is vomiting blood and unconscious!”
Rosalie followed behind Leon and entered the room next door.
The house didn’t even have an intact door. The broken window let in harsh wind, and the room was shabby, filled with a pungent medicinal smell.
The man lying on the bed was skinny. Every inch of exposed skin looked like icy melted snowwater from a sacred mountain, carrying a holy, pristine aura.
Yet this beautiful male kept bleeding from the corner of his lips, the bright red staining the pure white scene like a brutal slash of color.
Rosalie remembered: the one lying there was Micah Simmons—the only beastman who had followed her willingly.
And she had disliked Micah’s frail body, venting her temper on him often, punishing him by making him stand in the freezing snow at the slightest displeasure.
Rosalie looked at the barely breathing male and sighed.
She stepped forward. Just as she placed her fingers on Micah’s wrist, Cameron swept her hand away, warning sharply, “What are you trying to do now?”
“I just want to check his pulse to see if there’s a way to treat him.”
Cameron didn’t believe her at all. He shielded Micah behind him, glaring with hostility. “Do you even know medicine? The only thing you know is eating. Don’t make things worse!”
Rosalie could only feel helpless. After all, in these beastmen’s hearts, the original Rosalie had close to zero credibility.
“I really do know. Just trust me this once.”
Cameron still refused to move. Suddenly, a large hand grabbed him by the collar and tossed him aside.
Rosalie hadn’t expected it to be Leon.
“We are already Matriarch’s beastmen, so we should obey her. You should not repeatedly defy Matriarch.
“What? Did you not learn anything?”
Cameron wanted to retort, but Leon cast him a cold glance. He swallowed his grievances and shut his mouth unwillingly.
“Get out.”
“That’s not necessary.” Rosalie was taken aback. Cameron’s eyes reddened slightly, looking as if he had been grievously wronged. Still, he walked out.
“Thank you,” Rosalie murmured.
She placed her fingers on Micah’s wrist. His skin was icy and smooth.
Her expression grew solemn, and she had no intention of taking advantage of him.
Leon studied Rosalie, as if trying to catch her acting out of character.
Micah’s body truly was in terrible condition. The cold energy inside him had accumulated for years, reaching a terrifying level, but it wasn’t incurable.
As long as there was a method, it was just a matter of time.
Rosalie exhaled in relief, then painfully used the system shop to buy another Detox Pill and slipped it between Micah’s lips.
He was unconscious, so he was unable to swallow. Out of a healer’s instinct, Rosalie lowered herself, her red lips gently covering his, transferring the medicine into him.
Leon saw her actions, and the temperature around him instantly dropped. His gaze was ice-cold, his heart full of scorn.
Matriarch was still the same Matriarch after all. He had only imagined any supposed change.
He turned to leave, planning to find a doctor. There was no way Matriarch, who was usually arrogant and reckless, knew anything about healing.
He had placed expectations on Rosalie that he never should have.
“Matriarch, did you just save me?”
The faint voice made Leon freeze mid-step.
Micah slowly opened his eyes, revealing clear, pure pupils. He looked at Rosalie, who was so close, with a complicated expression.
Just yesterday, Matriarch had punished him under the scorching sun, and today she saved his life.
In the moment he lost consciousness, Micah had thought: maybe this time, he should simply stay asleep forever.
A beastman unloved by his Matriarch was worse off than a stray wild dog. And the Matriarch’s hot-cold temper, her irritability and rage, had long exhausted the last shred of hope he had held for her.
He thought she would scold him again, but instead, Rosalie placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back onto the bed. “You’re weak. Your blood and energy are depleted, so you should lie down first.”
Micah stared blankly at her, as if seeing a stranger. After a long moment, he mumbled, “Thank you for your care, Matriarch.”
Leon stood by the doorway the whole time, watching their interaction.
Rosalie tucked Micah in, then walked out—until she stood before Cameron, who was standing there facing the wall.
Sensing Rosalie’s approach, Cameron squeezed his eyes shut, thinking more whipping and humiliation were coming his way. However, Rosalie’s voice was calm. “You can go now.
“We still need to move out today and find a place to stay. I don’t plan to sleep on the streets tonight.”
Meeting Cameron’s puzzled gaze, she added a reasonable explanation.
“Matriarch,” Leon offered, “there’s a deep forest outside the tribe. There’s an abandoned house there. The family who lived there migrated to another village, so we can stay there temporarily.”
His words were like salvation. In the beast world, tribes lived in clusters. Being driven out meant it was nearly impossible to join a new tribe.
Moreover, it was already close to noon, so finding shelter before sunset was nearly impossible.
A temporary place to stay was a blessing. When they had the ability later, they could build a home of their own.
Rosalie nodded slightly in thanks. She had a favorable impression of Leon. Despite him rejecting her behavior and words, he still respected her.
She knew the original Rosalie had gone too far; she didn’t expect the beastmen to harbor feelings for her. When the right time came, she would let them go.
Lost in thought, she looked a little lonely. In Leon’s eyes, this looked like she had been hurt by Cameron. Studying Rosalie’s slightly chubby silhouette, he felt like she truly seemed different somehow.
Rosalie counted her belongings—100 copper coins, some broken pots and bowls, and a few quilts. That was all she owned.
She almost collapsed. Hadn’t the original Rosalie been the tribe leader’s daughter? How did she end up this impoverished?
But reality was reality, and she had no choice but to accept it.
The sun was now high overhead. Her stomach growled loudly. She walked to the kitchen, picked up a potato, and weighed it appreciatively.
“Today’s lunch is you, Mr. Potato.”