The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 49: Leadership skill

Isabella took a deep breath, hands on her hips, as she stared at the muddy, half-dug hole that was supposed to be a well.

This was great news. It meant her instincts were superior. Genius-level instincts. Clearly.

But now... there was a problem.

She had no idea what to do next.

Sure, she knew about a lot of things but well-making? That was so far outside her expertise it was practically on another planet.

Still, there was no way she was going to let these clueless villagers think she didn’t have a plan.

So, like any confident woman in charge, she pretended she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Alright, listen up!" she clapped her hands, making the ten males stand straighter. A few passing villagers slowed down, watching with interest.

A random old man scratched his head. "What’s this hole for?"

"A well," Isabella answered smoothly.

The villagers blinked at her.

"A what?"

"A well. For water."

"...Isn’t water just in rivers?" a confused woman asked.

Isabella pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, but do you really want to walk all the way to the river every time you need water? What if it’s raining? What if something dangerous is lurking? What if you’re lazy?"

The woman still a bit confused nodded at the last point.

Isabella turned back to her workers. "Alright, let’s get serious. The faster we do this, the faster I stop nagging you."

A few of the men nodded enthusiastically, clearly motivated.

"Now, we’re digging deep," she continued, pacing in front of them like a military commander.

"Deep wells mean cleaner water, less risk of it drying up, and most importantly—less chance of anything disgusting ending up in it."

One of the males looked down at the hole. "How deep?"

"At least 40 to 50 feet," Isabella declared confidently, even though she had just decided that number two seconds ago.

There was a collective groan.

"Do you want to drink clean water or do you want to drink water filled with dirt, bugs, and whatever else decides to take a bath in it?" Isabella asked sweetly.

Silence.

"That’s what I thought," she said smugly.

She took a step forward, rubbing her chin like she was deep in thought. "Now, obviously, we can’t just dig like wild animals. We need a system."

The men waited.

"...Which I will now create," Isabella added, thinking very hard about what little she knew about construction.

Step one: Tools.

"Okay, show me what we have."

The men obediently held up sharp stone picks, wooden and bone shovels, big baskets, and some stretched-out animal hides.

Isabella nodded approvingly. "Perfect. You’ll use the sharp stones to break through the harder soil, the shovels to scoop it out, and the baskets to carry it away."

She turned to the group. "Alright. You, you, and you—" she pointed at three of them. "You’ll be the diggers. Use the stone picks to break through the soil."

They nodded.

"You four—" she pointed to the next group, "—you’ll be on shovel duty. Once the diggers break the soil, you scoop it out."

More nodding.

"And the last three—" she turned to the remaining men, "—you’ll be carrying the dirt away with the baskets. I don’t want to see any piles of dirt near the well. Take it far enough so it doesn’t collapse back in."

A few villagers watching gasped as if they had just witnessed an act of divine wisdom.

"She’s making them move the dirt," someone whispered in awe.

"Why didn’t we think of that before?" another murmured.

Isabella smirked, flipping her hair. That’s right. Bow before my genius.

"Now, we’re not digging like maniacs without thinking," she continued. "Every two hours, you take a break. I don’t care if you feel fine. We don’t want this thing collapsing because someone got too tired to dig properly."

A few men exchanged sheepish glances, realizing they had been planning to dig nonstop until they passed out.

"Also," Isabella continued, "if it gets too deep, we’ll test the air before going in. If there’s no oxygen, we’re not making a death hole."

A few impressed grunts.

One of the men hesitantly raised his hand. "How do we test the air?"

"We’ll use fire," Isabella said. "If the flame goes out, it means there’s not enough air down there."

The men nodded seriously, as if she had just taught them the secrets of the universe.

A few villagers started muttering amongst themselves.

"She knows so much..."

"She’s like a great leader."

(Ding: Congratulations on unlocking leadership skills. +10 leadership skills)

Isabella smirked at the new skill she unlocked. She planned on checking how far she has gotten later, but for now she districtly listened to the comments about her.

"I bet she has secret wisdom passed down from the gods."

Isabella, hearing this, smirked internally.

"Oh, and another thing," she added, turning back to the workers. "We’re stabilizing the sides with logs or large stones. No one wants to dig for days just for the well to collapse back in."

The men immediately rushed to get the logs and stones, suddenly treating this like a sacred mission.

Isabella dusted her hands off. Mission accomplished.

After an hour, she saw that the system was working perfectly. The men followed their roles, the digging was progressing smoothly, and most importantly—she no longer had to do anything.

Seeing that they no longer needed her direct guidance, Isabella stretched her arms. (For now)

"Alright, I’ll leave you all to it."

A few heads snapped up. "You’re leaving?"

"Yes," Isabella said. "You don’t need me breathing down your necks every second. Besides, my beauty needs rest."

One of the men opened his mouth, possibly to question her, but Isabella held up a finger.

"Ah-ah. No complaints. Work hard, and soon, you’ll have the best well ever."

With that, she flipped her hair dramatically and left, heading back to check on the clay with Ophelia.

As she walked away, she smirked to herself.

Normally, a well this small took four to seven days to complete.

But with how fast they were working? Isabella was already seeing they’d be done in three days.

These beastmen were really beasts.