Beastmen Are Crazy, So I Sell Them Therapy

My gaze shifted upward, seeing a pair of black fox ears. ’So.. he’s a fox beastman...’

My gaze drifted behind him. He also had a tail—

I blinked. "...Wait."

There was another one.

And another.

And another.

I blinked again, harder this time. Maybe my vision was glitching.

’One...’ I counted silently.

’Two... three...’

My expression slowly died.

’Five... seven...’

My soul quietly packed its bags.

’...Nine.’

Nine tails.

I stared at them.

Then at him.

Then back at the tails, just to confirm they were still there and I wasn’t hallucinating from lack of oxygen or excessive stress but they were still there, swaying slightly.

Soren being a dragon was already a lot to process in life, but this? This felt like the universe was collecting mythical creatures like limited-edition figurines and just throwing them into my path for entertainment.

"...What in the mythology is this?" I whispered, because my brain had officially downgraded to basic functions only.

’Does this world also have mythical beastmen now?’ I wondered, mildly offended that I hadn’t received the memo. Or at least a handbook. Preferably titled "You’re Surrounded by Legendary Creatures: A Beginner’s Guide."

I was still mentally filing a complaint to the universe when his ears twitched again.

I blinked and looked up—only to realize he was already looking at me.

Amused.

Actually amused.

Like I was the interesting one here.

"What?" I said, rolling my eyes because I refused to be the only confused person in this interaction.

"Nothing..." he murmured, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "It’s just... it’s rare to see a leopard... with red eyes."

My eyes widened before I immediately slapped my hands over my face like that would somehow undo the last five seconds of existence.

"Please don’t tell anyone you’ve seen a leopard with red eyes!" I blurted, because clearly my survival instincts had kicked in late, but at least they showed up.

"Why?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious, which was not reassuring in the slightest. "It suits you perfectly."

I slowly lowered my hands just enough to glare at him like I was personally offended by his existence. "Just don’t, or I’ll leave right here, right now."

"Understood," he said immediately, which was suspiciously obedient.

"Good." I huffed, looking away like I had just established dominance when, in reality, I was still very much stuck in his arms.

Silence settled between us, oddly calm, and for a moment, just a moment, I let my eyes close.

Big mistake.

Because my brain, which had clearly been buffering this entire time, suddenly processed something extremely important.

My eyes snapped open.

"Wait," I straightened so fast it was borderline aggressive, grabbed his face with both hands, and forced him to look at me.

"Are you fine now? Is your hysteria finally gone?" I narrowed my eyes at him like a detective who just found a plot hole.

He blinked.

Then, very calmly, he took my hands off his face like I was a mildly inconvenient accessory, placed them down, and pulled me right back into his arms, burying his face into my neck again like we hadn’t just had a breakthrough moment.

"Not yet..." he murmured.

"But you were talking fine just now," I argued, trying to tilt my head back to look at him, which was impossible because this man had decided my neck was now his pillow.

"No"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I’ll add another 50,000."

"Deal," I said immediately.

There was a brief pause, and I could feel like he was smiling against my neck, probably amused at how easily I sold my dignity for money.

I didn’t care.

At this point, I was being financially rewarded for poor decisions, and honestly? This felt like the best decision I made.

I relaxed again, closing my eyes as the earlier chaos finally caught up to me. Between the kidnapping, the biting, and the ongoing negotiation of my self-worth, I was... tired.

Very tired.

If this was a dream, it was oddly detailed.

If it wasn’t—

Well.

At least I was getting paid.

"...Wake me up when your aide arrives," I mumbled sleepily.

Because if I was going to be held hostage, I might as well take a nap.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Vesphyr glanced down when her voice faded into silence, half-expecting another demand for compensation—maybe a "breathing fee" or "emotional damage surcharge." Instead, he found her completely still, eyes closed, breathing slow and even.

...She had fallen asleep.

Just like that.

In his arms.

After everything.

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before carefully shifting his hold.

This time, his movements were careful and slow, making sure her head rested more comfortably against him instead of at an awkward angle that would definitely result in complaints later—loud, expensive complaints.

Not that he minded.

Strangely.

Other than the energy stone, nothing had ever managed to steady him like this before. Not medication, not isolation, not sheer force of will.

Just—

her.

This absurd, money-grubbing woman who had the audacity to negotiate prices mid-crisis and then casually fall asleep like she wasn’t currently being held hostage by a stranger with nine tails and questionable mental stability.

He exhaled quietly, his grip loosening just a fraction, not enough to let her go, but enough to keep her comfortable.

He had met people like her before.

Men, mostly.

Greedy. Calculating. Always trying to squeeze out more.

But they at least tried to pretend.

This one?

She didn’t even bother.

She demanded money like it was her birthright, stacked conditions on top of conditions, and accepted deals faster than most people blinked.

No hesitation.

No dignity.

Absolutely shameless.

And yet—

his gaze softened slightly as he looked at her sleeping face—

she hadn’t once tried to take advantage of his current state beyond that.

No probing questions.

No opportunistic schemes.

Just straightforward transactions.

Simple and honest, in its own ridiculous way.

"...Troublesome," he murmured under his breath.

Women, in his experience, were... different.

They didn’t ask for money.

They asked for something far more complicated.

Commitment.

Marriage.

Things that came with expectations he had neither the time nor patience to entertain.

But this one—

A quiet huff of amusement escaped him before he could stop it.

She only wanted money.

Clear. Direct. Negotiable.

He could work with that.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he adjusted her slightly again, making sure she wouldn’t slip.

"...At least you’re simple," he murmured.

The curtain suddenly slid open with far too much enthusiasm, revealing a very cheerful Sykelion who clearly had no idea what kind of situation he was walking into.

"Duke! We’re done with shopping, where do you wanna go ne—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Mid-breath.

Mid-life, probably as his gaze slowly dropped to the woman peacefully asleep in Vesphyr’s arms.

Then back up.

Then down again.

"Wha—" he started.

Paused.

"How—"

Paused again.

"Where—"

Another pause.

"...Why are you holding a stranger?"

Vesphyr didn’t even blink.

"This is all your fault," he said, smiling dangerously and just threatening enough to suggest that Sykelion’s life expectancy had suddenly decreased.

Sykelion pointed at himself. "What? Me? Why is it my fault?!"

"If you didn’t insist on going to the Capital," Vesphyr continued in that same eerily composed tone, "I wouldn’t have completely lost my mind and kidnapped someone."

Sykelion stared at him then at the lady, back and forth.

"You—you kidnapped someone?" he repeated, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it less insane. "Why would you even do that?!"

"The energy stone started to crack."

A pause.

Sykelion blinked.

"...Okay," he said slowly, like he was trying very hard to be reasonable. "And what does that have to do with kidnapping a stranger?"

"She calms me down," he simply said.

Sykelion gave him judgmental looks. "...You found a random woman," he said carefully, "and decided she was your... what? Emotional support human?"

"Yes."

"No!" Sykelion snapped, immediately losing whatever composure he had left. "That’s not a yes situation! You can’t just pick up a person like a stress ball!"

Vesphyr frowned slightly. "I didn’t pick her up."

Sykelion gestured wildly. "You are literally holding her!"

"She fell."

"...Into your lap?!"

"...Yes."

Sykelion went quiet.

He looked at the ceiling.

Then back at Vesphyr.

"...I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Fine. Let’s say—hypothetically—I believe you."

"You should."

"I won’t," Sykelion shot back. "But for the sake of my sanity, let’s move on. Why is she still here?"

"She’s waiting for compensation."

"...Compensation," Sykelion echoed weakly.

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Give her 200,000"

Sykelion choked. "TWO HUNDRED—?!" He clamped a hand over his mouth, glancing at the sleeping woman like she might wake up and increase the price out of spite.

He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "You’re paying her that much?!"

"There are additional charges if you take longer," Vesphyr added calmly.

Sykelion looked like he was about to collapse.

He stared at her again, this time with a mix of disbelief and reluctant respect.

"...She’s asleep."

"Yes."

"In your arms."

"Yes."

"After kidnapping her."

"She agreed to compensation."

"That does not make it better!"