Beastmen Are Crazy, So I Sell Them Therapy

I excitedly jumped down, landing lightly on the smooth metal floor, my claws barely making a sound. My eyes immediately locked on a black mech armor tucked slightly to the side.

Unlike the other suits that reflected the overhead lights and gleamed with sharp edges, this one absorbed the light, matte and ominous, yet magnificent. A black dragon pattern snaked across its chest and shoulders, curling and twisting as though alive, making it look both regal and terrifying.

’So they also wear suits like Iron Man, huh...’ I thought, my tail flicking with excitement.

I padded closer, my paws making soft thuds against the metal floor, my ears perked up as I inspected every detail. The armor wasn’t just functional; it was artistry. The plates fit together seamlessly, the joints engineered for both flexibility and strength. Even the tiniest grooves and ridges seemed purposeful, as if the designer had thought of every possible movement a wearer might make.

I couldn’t help but reach out a paw to touch the smooth surface. The black matte coating was cool, almost silky under my touch. My whiskers twitched as I traced the edges of the dragon design, marveling at the way the scales seemed to flow naturally over the armor’s contours.

Glancing up, I saw Soren a few meters away. He was bent over a holographic display, fingers dancing through the air as lines of energy combine into shapes. His eyes were narrowed in focus.

’What is he doing?’ I wondered, tilting my head.

My ears twitched as I watched him, noticing the small, intricate plates he was working on. Unlike the heavy, menacing look of his own armor, these plates were streamlined, sleek, and delicate. They seemed designed to fit a much smaller, much more agile form... my form.

I looked down at my own paws. And now, as I glanced back at Soren’s work, it hit me—he was building this armor for me.

I went back to Soren, leapt onto the seat beside him, and settled there obediently, my tail curling around my paws as I stared intently at the worktable. A translucent holographic screen hovered above it, layers of blueprints overlapping one another. He had just completed the final round of fine-tuning; streams of data stabilized, and the flickering lines finally aligned into a clean, precise structure.

He enlarged the image with a flick of his fingers, then suddenly reached out and picked me up, holding me in front of the projection. One hand supporting my body while the other manipulated the hologram.

"Look," he said calmly. "Is there anywhere that feels wrong?"

The enlarged image displayed a pair of mechanical leopard paw arms, every joint, segment, and internal structure magnified in astonishing detail. I stared, momentarily stunned, then cautiously stretched out my claws.

The hologram reacted instantly.

The image rotated smoothly, following the exact angle of my paw. Lines highlighted pressure points, flex angles, and response curves. I blinked, then moved my paw again—slower this time. The projection adjusted with perfect synchronization, revealing the underside, the articulation of the digits, and even the simulated tension in each joint.

Soren held me with one arm while sliding the image with the other, pulling it closer until the holographic paw arms directly overlapped my real paws.

The moment they aligned, the system locked in place.

The simulation artificial paw arms fit snugly over my own. When I flexed my toes, the mechanical digits responded immediately. When I extended my claws, sleek metallic claws slid out in perfect harmony, their motion smooth and silent.

My breath caught.

’Woah... It’s like I’m Iron Man.’

No—better. This wasn’t clunky or heavy. It felt like an extension of my own body.

Soren’s fingers traced the hologram, pointing to each bone in my paw as it was mapped onto the mechanical structure. "Each joint mirrors your skeletal movement. Each paw can independently control a tool," he explained. "Try it."

I hesitated for only half a second before experimenting.

I shifted my paw slightly to the left.

With a soft mechanical hum, a slender carving blade extended from the end of the robotic arm.

I twitched my wrist.

The blade retracted, replaced by a precision chisel.

I curled my claws inward.

A fine engraving needle slid into place.

My eyes widened.

The shapes, the proportions, the balance—these tools were painfully familiar. They weren’t random attachments. They were sculpting tools. High-grade ones, refined and specialized, the kind I had once owned but these are more high-tech and more improvised!

’OMG! OMG! OMG!’

My heart practically exploded with excitement.

I moved my paws faster now, testing angles, rotation, pressure. Each subtle motion triggered a seamless transition between tools, all without delay.

I almost laughed.

With these mechanical leopard paw arms, I could carve with precision far beyond human limits.

No injuries.

Better carvings.

Higher quality.

More money.

So much money.

Profit really was the best.

My tail lashed behind me as I spiraled into shameless fantasy. ’How much would sell my art for?’

After several rounds of testing and a few subtle adjustments—micro-calibrations to response speed and force feedback—Soren finally nodded in satisfaction and started the machine tool.

The holographic paw arms dissolved into streams of data.

Below us, the fabrication unit activated.

The leopard claw arms were broken down into countless components, each part mapped, layered, and cast with accuracy. The machine hummed deeply as alloys were shaped, refined, and assembled piece by piece. Internal frameworks formed first, followed by joint systems, then outer plating.

Soren set me aside on a padded surface nearby and began assembling the parts manually.

I watched in silence.

His hands moved fast—faster than I expected. Flexible, precise, unhesitating. Each component clicked into place with mechanical certainty, as if he already knew the final shape by instinct. Screws tightened, plates aligned, circuits embedded.

I’ll admit it was impressive.

...But sculpting is still more impressive.

In my previous life, if not for my family heirloom protecting me, I would have died long before achieving anything. I would’ve missed the chance to become the most sought-after sculptress, the one whose works were whispered about in elite circles.

I sat there quietly, watching him work, my thoughts unusually calm.

Finally, he finished assembling the leopard paw arms.

He lifted them, inspected them once more, then reached for the spray unit. A fine mist coated the mechanical surface—black and white layers applied with care, matching the patterns of my fur almost perfectly. The finished arms looked less like weapons or machines and more like a natural extension of my body.

The mech technicians who had been pretending to focus on their work were completely stunned.

They had originally assumed their commanding officer had come to the assembly room with a new combat configuration or a modified mech blueprint. That was usually the only reason Soren personally appeared here.

Yet instead of optimizing weapons systems or reinforcing armor plates, he had calmly occupied the smart machine—designing and assembling leopard-shaped mechanical paw arms with meticulous care.

’So what Spade told us wasn’t a joke...’

Their commander really was treating this little beast with exceptional consideration.

This realization hit them harder than any battlefield shock. The man who could stand unmoved amidst explosions and bloodshed was now carefully adjusting claw articulation for a little beast.

Soren gently fitted the mechanical arm onto my left front paw first. I was too busy playing with it to notice anything else. I flexed my toes, extended my claws, and watched the metal mimic me perfectly. The tools shifted at my command, unfolding and retracting with soft mechanical sounds. My eyes sparkled with pure joy.

I was so absorbed that I didn’t even notice when Soren picked me up again—along with the remaining tools—and carried me straight out of the armor assembly room.

By the time I realized what was happening, we were already back in his quarters.

He set me down on the table, then reached into his pocket and took out the transparent energy stone. The thumb-sized crystal caught the light, its surface clear and flowing like condensed spring water. He placed it gently in front of me.

"Here," Soren said. "Carve your own energy stone."

I froze.

My gaze flicked from the stone to him, then back to the stone again.

’So... this is why he made the mechanical paw arm for me?’

The realization made my chest feel strangely warm.

As if sensing my confusion, Soren reached for his armband and removed the black dragon energy stone. It rested in his palm as he extended it toward me.

"There is your smell on it," he said evenly.

"...?"

I stared at the stone in disbelief.

My smell? How? I hadn’t even held it properly. There was no way—

He glanced at my expression and continued calmly, "Saliva, little beast. It dripped from your mouth onto it."

Then, without the slightest hesitation, he placed the stone back into his armband as if nothing were wrong.

"...!"

My ears flattened instantly.

’Shouldn’t you wash that first?!’

That was literally my drool!

"Keek—kee—keek?"

The ridiculous squeaking sound betrayed me again.

Soren’s lips twitched, though he mercifully said nothing this time.

Realizing that attempting to argue verbally was pointless, I huffed softly and turned my full attention to the transparent energy stone instead.