Chapter 46: Make Three Holes There

Chapter 46: Chapter 46: Make Three Holes There After a few minutes of calming down, Isabella begrudgingly used the last bit of water from one of her hollowed-out gourds to wash the fruits. Was it a waste? Yes. Did she care? No. She had earned this. After all, she had just survived a massive, red death noodle. She ate to her fill, letting the sweetness melt her nerves away. Each bite chased away the lingering panic, replacing it with satisfaction. When her stomach was full and happy, she finally leaned back, picking at her options. She had to complete a task. The question was—which one? She scrolled through the mental list, ignoring anything that sounded too physically exhausting. — "Make a primitive mirror" → Absolutely not. — "Make Soap" → Ugh. Work. — "Make clay pots" → Hmm... That one sounded doable. But would she have enough time? The sun was just starting to set, dipping low on the horizon. Would she even be able to finish one pot today? "Only one way to find out," she mumbled, dusting off her hands and getting up. Isabella rummaged through her hut, shoving aside smaller gourds until she found the biggest ones she had. They were hollowed out, smooth, and sturdy. Perfect. Grabbing two, she slung them under her arms and marched out toward the river. As she approached, the familiar stench hit her first. Then came the sight. The river was just as disgusting as ever, murky and full of things she didn’t want to name. She paused. Did she really have to do this? Her hands twitched, her stomach twisted. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with gross things before, but at this moment, she just wasn’t in the mood. Maybe if she stood here long enough, the clay would magically walk to her. Ding! "Random task: Quit being dramatic and get the clay. +5 foraging points." Isabella scowled. Bubu could fight her. She inhaled deeply, preparing to suffer, when she heard whispers. The villagers at the river had stopped what they were doing, their eyes locked on her. "She’s really pretty." "Her skin is so smooth..." "Her hair is different..." Isabella ignored them. She had bigger problems. Like the contaminated nightmare she had to dip her hands into. Just great. She was still lamenting her life choices when movement from the side caught her attention. Two boys, maybe sixteen or seventeen, approached hesitantly. One had a slight gap between his teeth, the other had a scar on his brow. They exchanged a nervous glance before one of them, the braver one, spoke. "Do you... need help?" Isabella blinked. Did she? Absolutely. Would she refuse? Not a chance. She nodded, already handing them the gourds. "Yes, actually. I need a lot of water from this exact . Fill these to the brim." The boys seemed surprised by her bluntness, but they took the gourds without hesitation. While they got to work, she got to inspecting. Her sharp eyes scanned the riverbanks, searching for damp, soft earth. The kind that looked like it held something valuable beneath. A patch of reddish-brown soil caught her attention. She bent down, scooped some up, and squeezed. It held its shape perfectly. Good. She needed a lot since clay shrank as it dried. By the time she finished checking, the boys had already filled the gourds to the brim. Perfect. She stood, brushing her hands off. "Alright, follow me." And just like that, she led them back to her hut—hands clean, work done, and dignity intact. Isabella stood in front of her small hut, arms crossed, watching the two boys awkwardly shift from foot to foot. The sun had already started dipping toward the horizon, casting warm, golden light on their slightly dirt-smudged faces. They looked at her expectantly. "Uh... so, is that all?" one of them finally asked, rubbing the back of his head. "No, no," Isabella waved her hands dramatically, almost smacking herself in the face. "I can’t just leave things like this!" The boys glanced at each other. "...Leave what like this?" Isabella pressed her lips together. That was a good question. She had no idea what to do next. She knew beauty, skincare, and self-care. But clay preparation? Ha! That was so not in her field of expertise. So she did what she always did when faced with a problem: she used her superior knowledge of beauty routines and hoped it applied to, well... dirt. Think, Isabella. Think. Clay was used in skincare, right? Face masks. Mud baths. Expensive products people slathered on their faces for that "natural glow." What did people do when they wanted clean clay for face masks? Filter it? Soften it? Remove the nasty bits? She tapped her chin. If she treated this like a luxury spa day, maybe she’d actually get useful clay instead of just slapping dirt onto her future pots and hoping for the best. With a newfound sense of confidence (and slight delusion), she spun toward the boys. "Alright!" She pointed at the taller one. "You, dig three holes. Big ones. Over there." She gestured to a spot near her hut. The boy blinked. "Uh... holes?" "Yes. You know, like—" Isabella mimed digging, complete with exaggerated shoveling movements. "Holes." The shorter boy coughed into his fist, holding back a laugh. "And what do I do?" "You," she turned to him, "go get me the biggest banana leaves you can find." He hesitated. "Why?" Isabella straightened, lifting her chin. "Because I am a woman of vision." The boys exchanged looks again. One shrugged. The other sighed. "Alright, fine." With that, they got to work. As the taller boy dug, Isabella hovered nearby, giving very unnecessary advice. "Not too deep," she warned. "I don’t need a swimming pool." He muttered something under his breath, but she ignored it. The second boy returned with a handful of banana leaves. Isabella clapped her hands. "Perfect! Now, line one of the holes with them." He gave her a look. "Do I... just lay them in there?" She exhaled, patiently (but dramatically). "No, genius. Line the hole properly. Like you’re making a bowl out of leaves." Grumbling, the boy did as she asked. Soon, the setup was ready: 1. One big hole lined with banana leaves. 2. One empty hole for separating. 3. One hole just in case she needed it (because why not).