Apocalypse Prefer the Beast World Real Estate Market (Joyread) novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Matriarch, It’s My Fault for Not Protecting You Properly

After breakfast, the beastmen lined up in front of Rosalie. She looked around, puzzled, until Leon stepped forward. “Martriach, please instruct who should go hunting today.”
Rosalie didn’t try to act brave or suggest going herself. Hunting was usually the duty of male beasts in this world, where agriculture was underdeveloped, and daily survival relied heavily on hunting.
After a moment’s thought, she came up with a good plan.
“You five beastmen will take turns in pairs for the dangerous forest expeditions. Micah’s health is weak, so he’ll stay home to handle chores.
“As for pairing, you may arrange it yourselves.”
Hearing this, Leon and Elijah exchanged a glance. Elijah then said, “Today, Cameron and I will go out.”
Without waiting for Cameron to protest, he pulled him along firmly.
Declan was new and untrusted, so someone had to stay behind. Cameron was not reliable alone either, so one of them had to remain with Rosalie.
Leon observed Rosalie. The probing from last night had been rejected—unexpected, but not entirely surprising.
From yesterday, she seemed different somehow. He checked closely: the mole on her earlobe, her face, her figure—all unchanged.
If it wasn’t a different person, what had caused this change?
Rosalie stood still and consulted the system in her mind. “System, how can I earn points in this world?”
She had only been here one day, yet had already spent most of her points just on the pills.
“Currency in this world can be exchanged for points. One ounce of silver equals ten points. Items can be converted into currency via the system.”
Rosalie casually picked up a cabbage. “How much currency can this be exchanged for?”
“Detected one cabbage. Can be exchanged for five copper coins.”
Rosalie’s heart leapt. At least she had a way to earn points, far better than doing nothing.
While she conversed silently with the system, Leon watched, seeing her stand there seemingly absent-minded.
“Matriarch,” he called.
Hiding her excitement, she replied, “You can chop firewood at home. I’ll take a walk in the forest.”
“The forest is dangerous, Martriarch. I’ll accompany you.”
She agreed to his suggestion, and the two walked together.
The forest vegetation was lush, a stark contrast to the desolate world she had known. Rosalie inhaled deeply, feeling her body and mind relax.
After enduring so much fear in the apocalyptic world, this place brought an unexpected comfort—at least she didn’t have to constantly face horrifying zombies.
She walked ahead while Leon followed quietly, the atmosphere surprisingly calm.
Rosalie’s thoughts were with Micah’s illness. A Detox Pill could cure him, but the cost was too high at the moment. Collecting herbs could also help, though the effect would be slower.
The system filtered the herbs suitable for Micah and activated a scanning mode.
“Host, medicinal herbs detected within 1 mile.”
Following the system’s guidance, Rosalie squatted and dug up a pile of herbs.
Leon, standing behind her, watched her pick up what appeared to be mere weeds, then carried some of the bundle when her arms were full.
After a while, the two returned home, each holding a large pile of herbs.
Rosalie marveled at how rich this world’s flora was; step by step, medicinal herbs for nourishing Micah had been gathered completely.
She laid the herbs out to dry, ready for later use in decoctions.
At noon, the two beastmen sent hunting had not returned. After quickly reheating breakfast, Rosalie prepared to go out again.
Leon wanted to follow, but she refused. She had discovered plenty of edible plants nearby, so there was no need for personal accompaniment.
Reluctantly, Leon agreed.
Rosalie carried a basket and dug up sweet potatoes, each as large as three normal ones, clearly mutated.
She also gathered pumpkins, chili peppers, tomatoes, and other crops along the way.
Deeper in the forest, her eyes suddenly lit up at a golden patch. Wheat!
The golden stalks swayed like waves, stirring her heart.
With wheat, she could make flour, pumpkin cakes, and even sweet potato cakes!
Beaming, she began harvesting the wheat.
Suddenly, a gust of wind flashed behind her. She rolled to the ground just in time, spotting a deep claw mark where she had just stood.
A leopard stood there, its predatory eyes glaring at her, sharp teeth dripping with saliva.
Her senses, honed in the apocalypse, saved her life once, but now she was not the nimble Rosalie of the old world—she was a young lady who struggled to walk in this realm.
Gripping her bone knife, she faced the leopard without fear. It had clearly gone hungry for a long time, its red eyes fierce with primal hunger.
Swallowing hard, she knelt slightly as the leopard pounced, lowering her stance to strike at its vulnerable belly. The leopard moved swiftly, leaving only a long scratch along her shoulder.
The leopard roared in pain, and Rosalie suffered as well—her shoulder was slashed by its sharp claws, thin streaks of blood dripping down, the searing pain draining the color from her face.
After several clashes, her body, already weak, neared collapse. Her legs trembled, and her hands stiffened around the knife.
A sense of despair crept in. Was death unavoidable, even in this new life?
As the leopard leapt again, she gritted her teeth to strike, when suddenly a black streak shot out, slamming the leopard to the ground.
Dust rose as two animals tangled. The leopard bit the black panther, but the black panther clamped its neck and flung it into a tree. Immediately, the leopard stopped breathing and died.
Cautiously, Rosalie observed the black panther.
Its sleek, shiny coat gleamed in the sunlight, and its lean, powerful body exuded strength and agility. Clearly, it was a magnificent creature.
The black panther’s eyes fixed on her, yet it did not move.
Rosalie’s legs finally gave out, but the black panther caught her steadily.
Feeling its warmth, she pressed her face against its soft, hot fur.
It carried her home. Rosalie had already lost consciousness when she heard Micah’s panicked cry, “Matriarch, you’re hurt!”
In a haze, Rosalie felt herself being cradled by the beastman, enveloped in the warmth of his body.
Opening her eyes faintly, she glimpsed black hair falling across her ear, and dark eyes fixed on her.
A heated hand covered her face. Darkness. Only a voice echoed, “Matriarch, sleep now.”