Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Points to Extend Life

Su Yan clenched her jaw until it ached. She refused to scream again, not because it hurt less, but because she couldn’t spare the breath. Her fingers clawed at the grass beneath her, tearing and twisting it into wet pulp.

Outside the hollow, the black leopard paced like thunder trapped in a body.

When her cries stopped, he turned to look again, and worry flickered across his eyes—quick, sharp, gone.

[It hurts so much!] Su Yan shouted at the System inside her mind. [Do you have anything for pain?]

The System answered with clinical precision: [Ten minutes until the cub is delivered.]

[Ten minutes?] Su Yan dragged in a shaking breath. The number hit like a hook she could cling to. [Fine. Ten minutes.]

She reached into her space and pulled out fresh fish, swallowing it in hurried bites, forcing fuel into a body that felt like it was coming apart.

The black leopard prowled the hollow’s edge, restless.

Then the air changed.

A pack of gray wolf devil beasts drifted in on silent paws, drawn by the metallic tang of blood. Yellow eyes glinted between brush and stone. They crept closer, ring by ring, tightening around the hollow.

Then they saw him.

The wolves froze, tails dropping, fear rippling through their bodies like a visible shudder. They turned to flee.

The black leopard didn’t allow it.

Lightning erupted—white, brutal, instantaneous. Bolts stitched the dark with deafening cracks. The wolves were reduced to smoking black shapes in seconds, the stench of scorched fur rolling into the hollow on the wind.

Su Yan heard the thunder, but she couldn’t see any of it. Her world had narrowed to the pounding in her ears and the crushing force inside her body.

Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure hit—sharp and humiliating, like her body was about to betray her completely.

She couldn’t hold it back.

“Ah—!”

The scream tore free, ragged and involuntary.

The black leopard lunged into the hollow at once.

And then—darkness.

The System’s voice rang through Su Yan’s mind like a bell struck in empty space: [Congratulations, host. You have delivered your first offspring. Sex: male. Beast form: Golden-Eyed Black Leopard. Talent: lightning-type, profound rank. Father: Golden-Eyed Black Leopard Beast. Reward: 1000 points and one childbearing gift pack.]

[Convert 500 points into lifespan!]

Even half-unconscious, Su Yan clutched at the numbers like a drowning person grabbing rope.

The System replied: [Confirmed. 500 points exchanged for 500 days of lifespan. blink pre-deducted 50 points. Settlement complete. host has 450 points remaining.]

Su Yan stared at the lifespan field, the number burning bright against the fear that had haunted her since she’d arrived.

500 days.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she could breathe without tasting panic.

[Activate the System Shop. 200 points.]

[System Shop activated. 200 points deducted. host has 250 points remaining.]

The gray question marks in the catalog snapped into vivid images, each one a promise with a price tag.

Su Yan didn’t hesitate. [1 point. Exchange for vitality-restoring pill.]

[vitality-restoring pill exchanged successfully. host has 249 points remaining.]

She opened her System Space and saw a pill bottle glowing like it held captured sunlight, labeled vitality-restoring pill.

When she opened her eyes, the sky above was a clean, impossible blue.

Her body felt hollowed out—weakness pooling in her limbs like lead.

She swallowed the vitality-restoring pill.

Heat rushed through her veins, fast and fierce. Strength surged back so abruptly it made her dizzy. The heaviness vanished. Her muscles answered her again.

Su Yan sat up, heart hammering. She had to see him. Her first child.

But the moment she looked around, she went still.

There was no baby.

Only flattened grass, damp earth, and the faint smell of lightning in the air.

No black leopard either.

Silence filled the hollow like water.

Then the truth slammed into place so hard it stole her breath.

Her child’s beast form was a Golden-Eyed Black Leopard Beast.

And the black leopard—

Could it really be that exact? Could he be the father?

It explained too much. Why he’d carried her, fed her, guarded her. Why he’d never shifted into human form, as if afraid she’d recognize him the instant he did.

She hadn’t even seen her baby’s face.

Her first child—gone before she could lay eyes on him.

Su Yan stretched slowly, testing her body. She felt light, almost unnaturally so, as if the birth had been scrubbed out of her bones.

“Heh. A point system.” Her voice sounded casual, almost amused. “I’m destined to give birth, not raise them. If you took him away, that just makes it easier to prepare for the next one.”

But the harder she tried to sound carefree, the colder her expression became.

No mother truly wanted to abandon her child.

Especially not her first.

…