Beastmen Are Crazy, So I Sell Them Therapy

While Soren drove, he casually explained our destination as if he were talking about an ordinary apartment.

"We’re going to my place," he said. "I have a small manor here in the Imperial Capital."

Small.

That word immediately made my ears twitch in suspicion.

He continued, tone calm and matter-of-fact. It was apparently his only manor in the capital, since he spent most of his life stationed with the military. He rarely stayed here, rarely slept here, rarely even visited.

Still, the place was always maintained—there was a butler, several maids, and a full maintenance staff on standby so he could return at any time without worrying about a thing.

I listened quietly, filing all of this away in my head.

A "small manor."

Maintained year-round.

With permanent staff.

...Yeah. I already knew this definition of small was going to be deeply offensive.

When the car finally stopped, I eagerly hopped down, tail flicking with excitement as I looked around—

And froze. "...?"

There was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Just a clean, open parking area. Smooth stone flooring, perfectly aligned markings, a few sleek lighting pillars... and that was it.

I slowly turned my head, staring at the empty space. ’This is his... house???’

My expression must have been priceless, because Soren paused, glanced at me, and said calmly, "Look up."

I tilted my head back.

And then—

Oh.

Ohhh...???

OOOOH!!!

My jaw practically unhinged.

Above us floated an entire island.

A whole floating island—suspended in the air like a fragment of the heavens that had decided to stay behind. Mist curled around its underside, waterfalls spilling down endlessly into nothingness. Sunlight reflected off its edges, making it look unreal, like something pulled straight out of a fantasy illustration.

I slowly turned back to Soren.

"...Does that mean," my brain whispered in disbelief, "he owns the whole thing?"

"Hold still," Soren said, already lifting me with ease.

Before I could fully process what was happening, he transformed.

Black scales rippled into existence, wings unfurled, and in the blink of an eye I was airborne.

Wind rushed past my face as we ascended, the city shrinking rapidly beneath us. Floating vehicles drifted by at a respectful distance, none daring to come too close to the commander’s dragon form. The higher we went, the more breathtaking the view became—entire districts laid out like miniature models, rivers of light weaving through the city.

We reached the island and landed smoothly on a massive terrace carved directly into stone.

The moment his claws touched down, Soren easily shifted back into his human form.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then I turned around.

Behind me stretched a dense forest, lush and alive, with towering trees and winding paths. A clear river cut through the land, feeding into shimmering waterfalls that cascaded off the island’s edge. There were sprawling gardens bursting with rare flowers, carefully shaped hedges, and—was that—

A maze garden?

I turned forward.

And my brain officially short-circuited.

A grand manor stood before me, elegant yet imposing, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. Wide terraces, tall arched windows, intricate stonework, and subtle energy formations embedded into the structure itself. It wasn’t flashy in a gaudy way—it was refined and unmistakably expensive.

I slowly looked back at Soren. "...You said," I thought faintly, "this was small."

Small?

SMALL?!

This place was twice—no, hundred times the size of the mansion I lived in during my previous life!

He didn’t just own a house.

He owned a floating island.

Forests. Rivers. Gardens. Waterfalls. A maze. An entire ecosystem.

In the sky.

Just how rich is this guy?!

My tail flicked uncontrollably as I stood there in silence, staring at what was apparently—according to Soren—

"A small manor."

Soren walked into the spacious room with long, unhurried strides. The interior was vast yet warm—high ceilings, soft lighting embedded into the walls, and furniture arranged with military-level neatness rather than fancy. Near the door stood a man in a perfectly pressed uniform, posture straight as a ruler.

The man bowed deeply the moment Soren entered. "Welcome back, Master."

His gaze flicked briefly toward me. There was no surprise in his eyes, no curiosity that lingered too long, and certainly no questions. He simply acknowledged my existence and immediately returned his attention to Soren.

Yep. Definitely the butler.

"Have you prepared what I asked for?" Soren asked calmly as he lifted me and set me gently on the bed before taking a seat on the nearby chair.

"Yes, Master. Please wait a moment," the butler replied. He reached out and rang a small bell beside the door.

Almost immediately, there was a knock.

The butler opened the door and accepted a tray from someone outside before closing it again. He walked toward us with steady steps and stopped in front of me, lowering the tray to my eye level.

"This will be yours," he said politely. "It is called OmniSync."

I leaned forward instinctively, about to inspect the item—but then paused. My head tilted to the side, ears twitching slightly.

’Omni... Sync?’

I vaguely remembered hearing that word earlier—Varek had mentioned it—but I had absolutely no idea what it actually was. My confusion was probably written all over my face.

The butler noticed immediately.

He bent down slightly so we were at eye level. "Miss...?"

"Blanca," Soren said before I could react. "Her name is Blanca."

A faint smile appeared on the man’s face. "I see. Hello, Miss Blanca. My name is Mikael, but you may call me Kael. I am the butler in charge of maintaining this manor."

I nodded at him in acknowledgment, tail flicking once.

Kael straightened slightly and began explaining, his tone smooth and patient, as if he had rehearsed this explanation countless times—but still delivered it with genuine care.

"What Master prepared for you is an OmniSync," he said. "It is a wearable personal data synchronization device. In simple terms, it serves as the central repository for all of an individual’s vital information."

He gestured lightly toward the device.

"It securely stores financial records, identification credentials, medical and health data, academic registrations, access permissions, and even personal preferences. It is designed to be worn at all times and integrates seamlessly with the user’s body, allowing constant access without inconvenience."

I blinked, listening intently.

"The OmniSync is uniquely bound to its owner," Kael continued without pause. "It uses biometric authentication—such as fingerprints, retinal patterns, and neural signal recognition—to ensure that only the rightful owner can access or modify its contents. Even if stolen, it would be completely useless to anyone else."

Oh. That’s... actually kind of insane.

"It can wirelessly connect to other compatible systems," he went on, "including personal terminals, academic networks, payment systems, and official verification devices. This allows instant transactions, identity confirmation, and data synchronization without manual input."

He paused briefly, then added, "All data is protected by advanced encryption protocols. Unauthorized access, hacking attempts, or forced intrusion are virtually impossible."

Finally, he looked at me again, tone softening. "In short, Miss Blanca, this device will act as your identification, your wallet, your academic record, and your personal data hub—all in one."

There wasn’t a single unnecessary word in his explanation. No rushing. No impatience. No treating me like a child—or a beast.

I stared at him for a second.

Then I clapped my paws together, clearly impressed.

Mikael blinked, slightly startled, before smiling politely again.

Honestly? If I were in his position, I would’ve just shoved the thing at the recipient and said, "It’s important. Go figure it out yourself."

But this man? He explained everything in excruciating detail, calmly and respectfully, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

’...Soren’s household staff were terrifyingly competent.’

Seeing that I seemed to understand Kael’s explanation, Soren naturally assumed the next step was simple. He lifted the OmniSync from the tray and reached toward me, clearly intending to place it around my neck.

The moment the cold, unfamiliar object got within danger distance, my fur stood on end.

"Hiss—!"

I snapped my head up, ears flattened, eyes sharp. A low warning sound escaped my throat as I recoiled backward.

Soren paused mid-motion. "...You don’t like it?" He glanced at the device, then at me, brows lifting slightly. "What, do you want me to put a bell on it instead?"

Bell.

’BELL?!’

My soul nearly left my body.

’HELL NO.’

Does this man seriously think I’m his pet?!

I was a human—a dignified, educated, once-wealthy human—trapped in a tragic, fluffy leopard body, not some decorative mascot meant to jingle when walking!

Also—necklace? Collar? Anything tight around the neck? Absolutely not. Hard pass. Instant rejection.

Before he could even blink, I leapt backward off the bed and scurried straight behind Mikael, clutching his leg like my life depended on it.

"Nyang! Nyarng! Nya-aang!!" I hissed furiously, baring my tiny sharp teeth.

Translation: "Change that damned cursed thing or I’ll destroy it myself!"

Mikael stiffened, clearly not expecting to suddenly become my human shield.

Soren looked down at me, expression unreadable. "You really won’t wear it?"

I shook my head violently. Then, to really drive the point home, I hissed again and crossed my little arms in front of my chest, turning my head away in dramatic defiance.

This was my final stance.

No collar. No necklace. No negotiation.

He smiled.

And then—

Soren smiled.

Not a gentle smile. Not a patient smile. But a teasing smile.

...Oh no.

It was only then that realization struck me like a thunderbolt.

’This bastard is making fun of me.’

My eyes narrowed dangerously. Fine. If he wanted to tease me, then I would simply ignore him.

With that decision made, I jumped fully behind Mikael and clung to him instead, glaring at Soren like an offended aristocrat.