Beastmen Are Crazy, So I Sell Them Therapy

BlancaFrostinetransmigratedintotheverybeast-worldnovelshe’dbeenreading.Great.Fantastic.Evenbetter?Thisworldhadamassiveproblem.Inthisempire,beastmensufferedfromaconditioncalledHysteria.Whentheiremotionsspiked,theylostcontrolandturnedintorampagingmonsters.Whentheiremotionsdippedtoolow,theyrevertedintosmall,helplessbeastcubs.Therapyexisted,technically,intheformofrareenergystones—buttherewasacatch.Thestonesonlyworkediftheywerehand-carvedintotheexactanimalformofthebeastman.Themorerealisticthesculpture,thestrongerthecalmingeffect.Themorelifelikethecarving,themoretimesitcouldbereused.WhichwaswhereBlanca’sluckkickedin.Inherpreviouslife,she’dbeenalegendarysculptor—wealthy,talented,andfamouslydifficulttodealwith.Herworksweresovividtheyfeltliketheywerebreathing.Peoplewaitedmonthsjusttobegforacommission,andbecauseshehadzeropatiencefornonsense,theartworldhadcrownedherwithafittingtitle:TheSculptress.SowhenBlancarealizedshecouldcarveenergystonesbetterthananyoneinthisworld,romancewasnotherfirstconcern.Powerfulbeasthusbands?Fatedmates?Tragic,handsomegeneralswithemotionaldamage?Shewavedallofitaway.“I’lldatelater,”shedecidedcalmly.“AfterIgetrich.”Andso,insteadofalovestory,sheopenedashop.Asmall,suspiciouslylow-effortstoresuddenlyappearedontheRegionalNetwork,sellingpalm-sizedsculpturescarvedwithterrifyingrealism.Justlookingatthescreenwasenoughtocalmragingemotions.Theempirelostitsmindovernight.Ordersfloodedin.Noblespanicked.Themilitarytooknotes.Unfortunately,theshopownerwas…Lazy,sharp-tongued,anddeeplyuninterestedincustomersatisfaction.“Norushorders.”“Norefunds.”“Stopmessagingmeat3a.m.”“Andstopflirtinginthereviews.”Still,hersculpturessoldoutwithinseconds.WhatBlancadidn’texpectwasthegrowingnumberofpowerfulbeastmenwhobeganappearinginherlife—eachclaimingtheyjustneededemotionaltreatment,eachlingeringalittletoolong,eachstaringatherhandsliketheyweresomethingfarmoredangerousthanweapons.Afterall,inanempirefullofbeastswholostcontrolwhentheiremotionsranwild,BlancaFrostinewastheonlyonewhocouldcalmthemwithatouch.Andwhileshekeptinsistingshewasn’tinterestedinlove—Love,unfortunately,seemedveryinterestedinher.“Screwfindingahusband,”Blancathought,carvinganothermasterpiece.“…Whydotheykeepliningupanyway?”