I'll Sniff You to Confirm You're a Male Beastman! Hurry and Take Off Your Clothes!
I'll Sniff You to Confirm You're a Male Beastman! Hurry and Take Off Your Clothes!
Veronia had been a warrior of the Wolf Clan — the most courageous tribe among all the beastkin races.
She was a born fighter from Lilyan, the largest city in the South.
They had a saying in the Empire:
If you want to meet the Empire's strongest, go to Croselia, the imperial capital.
If you want to meet the Empire's most vicious brawler, head south to Lilyan.
Lilyan was a city famous for its weekly arena matches.
It was just as famous for accepting every race without discrimination.
Dwarves, the handful of elves who'd fled the forest, beastkin, and every manner of demi-human.
The Empire as a whole held relatively few racial prejudices, but no place was more diverse than Lilyan.
The reason was simple: the arena.
The arena.
The single most beloved form of entertainment in the Empire, enjoyed by nobles and commoners and even slaves alike — the hottest show there was.
A colossal circular coliseum where combatants and warriors faced off with their own weapons.
Sometimes against monsters, sometimes against each other — and every year, hundreds of thousands of spectators flocked to watch.
Mostly, people from the southern provinces.
Lilyan possessed the fifth-largest arena in the Empire, but its passion for the fights outstripped every other region.
The reason was straightforward: the South was the most peaceful province.
Paradoxically, because they were farthest from the front lines, its people harbored a deep romantic fascination with combat.
The newly appointed mayor of Lilyan believed that becoming the South's premier city meant pouring everything into the arena, and he invested accordingly.
Monster vs. Warrior.
Mage vs. Warrior.
Golem vs. Golem.
Lilyan's arena staged every kind of fight there was.
People joked that if it made for good entertainment, the organizers in Lilyan would throw in a dogfight too.
Recruiting demi-humans and other heteromorphic races as arena fighters — that practice had started in Lilyan as well.
And so Lilyan became the South's iconic arena city. The city of fighting. The city of entertainment.
The recent revelation that the Golden Wagon had poured significant investment into the place only cemented its future prospects.
Participation in the arena was open to all. Anyone who could fight was welcome.
No matter their race.
Veronia was one of the arena's most renowned warriors.
Swinging a tail thick with navy-blue fur, she felled every opponent who stood before her. She had amassed a staggering number of fans — a celebrity. Or rather, a celebrity beastkin.
And now, here she was.
"Male scent!"
She couldn't stop her nose from twitching at the smell wafting off the human male in front of her. Sniff sniff.
The Wolf Clan's noses looked no different from a human's, but their olfactory sense soared dozens of times beyond any human's.
She had followed that scent all the way here from distant Lilyan.
A faint fragrance no ordinary person could detect — but a Wolf, and one of the clan's finest warriors at that, could pick it up.
It was the pheromone scent of a truly powerful male.
The aroma had struck her so intensely that she'd halted her match mid-fight. She'd tracked the smell without a plan, moving on instinct alone, and now, a week later, she was standing in front of its source.
Though, to be fair, she'd also gotten sidetracked by the scent of honey and ended up in this undignified state.
Veronia took a step closer to Lucas, nose still twitching.
Shing.
The sharp ring of a blade being drawn cut through the air.
"Wolf. Take one more step and I'll have your head."
The elf standing beside the male who exuded that powerful scent was glaring at her with murderous intent.
As if to underline that the threat was no joke, she bared her teeth and growled, sword already drawn.
Such a soft-looking face, but her eyes are alive!
The stance.
The way she watched her opponent.
Even the mana gathered at the tip of her blade.
Veronia's instincts told her the elf before her was a formidable opponent.
"Hm? Why so angry? Are you this male's mate?"
"Wha— What? Wh-what are you talking about! M-mate—!"
"If not, then why the hostility? I'm merely smelling him to confirm something."
"He is my b-boss. Dealing with anyone who approaches the boss without cause is an employee's duty."
"Is that so? What tiresome work. Fear not! I bear no ill will! I am simply confirming."
Lucas, who had been quietly observing the situation, finally spoke.
"And what exactly are you trying to confirm?"
"Whether you are a beastman or not! My nose tells me you emit an intensely powerful male scent!"
"...Is that so?"
"It is! You are giving off the thick pheromones of a male who has triumphed on the battlefield! If you are a beastman—!"
"If I am?"
"I intend to propose formally! Strong males and strong females must pair to propagate the species!"
"Wh-what?! How scandalous!"
Andrea leveled her sword.
"Andrea, calm down."
Lucas held her back and scratched his head.
"Sorry, but I'm not a beastman."
"...Is that so? But clearly — sniff sniff — the smell is..."
"This smell you're talking about — would it happen to be this?"
Lucas lifted the basket.
The basket carried a scent similar to what was coming off the man's body.
"Yes! That odor! What is this? Why does a male's scent come from a basket?!"
Lucas sighed, looking at her as if he'd known this was coming.
"That's the secret behind the male scent."
"...I do not understand."
I opened the basket.
It was the picnic lunch I'd packed with Andrea for today's honey-gathering trip.
Three items.
First, the quintessential K-fusion dish: bulgogi sandwiches.
Next, gimbap — something no picnic is complete without.
And finally, alongside the gimbap, the most commonly consumed pairing at any snack bar: doenjang-guk. A very mild spinach doenjang-guk, to be precise.
Since you can't exactly pack a stew into a picnic basket, I'd made it thinner — just a little tofu, some spinach, and doenjang dissolved into a light broth. Perfect for when your throat gets dry eating gimbap.
The "male scent" Veronia was talking about was almost certainly this.
I'd already been through this exact headache once, back in the capital.
Years ago, when I was still a first-year cook knight, a group of beastkin mercenaries had come to the capital to collect their war pay. Back then, I didn't know Camilla yet, so I'd been testing a new batch of homemade doenjang by myself.
- Male! Male! Male!
- Grrrrr! Bring out the male! A high-quality, delicious male!
- Breed! Mate! Grrrrr!
I still had vivid memories of those beastkin mercenaries going berserk and storming our cookhouse while I was boiling doenjang-guk. They'd tried to pounce on me. I'd subdued every last one of them.
That was when I learned: some beastmen share a resonant frequency with this fermented soybean paste.
I'd completely forgotten about it since nothing like that had happened since...
Now, years later, another beastkin on the same wavelength had come knocking. At least this one was lucid, unlike those others who'd lost all reason and attacked with nothing but instinct.
"This is doenjang. The smell probably resembles your males' pheromones, and that's what you're picking up."
"Is that... so?"
"Yes."
She clicked her tongue in apparent disappointment and studied me once more.
After confirming I had neither ears nor tail, she said,
"Ahem. My apologies. That was discourteous. It has been so long since I caught that scent, I grew excited without meaning to."
Though, judging by appearances, she'd gotten excited over something else entirely.
I looked at the honey smeared stickily around her mouth. Globs of honey clung to her lips alongside broken beeswax, glistening.
"Did you eat all that honey?"
"Ah, not all of it! About half remains, so you may take what is left!"
"We can't take it."
"Why not?"
"I only take half of other bees' honey."
"...I do not understand!"
"So the bees don't starve to death."
"Ah. Understood! Now I comprehend!"
She had good energy, at least.
"Since you ate it, we'll have to harvest from somewhere else."
"The work has increased because of me, so I shall help!"
"I'd appreciate that."
"In exchange, I have a condition!"
"What?"
"I wish to share the food in that basket! I find myself intrigued!"
Instead of answering, I glanced at Andrea.
"Why are you looking at me?"
"You okay with it? It'll cut into your share."
"Wh-what kind of pig do you take me for?"
"Not like that. You just like eating."
"Eeek!"
"Oh! You enjoy eating too? I enjoy it as well! We have discovered common ground!"
"I do not enjoy it!!"
"Really? A pity! But it is fine! Common ground can always be found!"
After hearing Andrea's shrieking protest, I turned back to Veronia.
"She says it's fine."
"Excellent! Then I shall render my assistance!"
Veronia licked the honey from the corner of her mouth with her tongue.
Something about this didn't inspire confidence, but she had found the pumpkin-bee hive faster than we could have, so she'd probably do a decent job.
Leading the way, Veronia used her tail to wipe honey off her backside, then licked her tail clean. Looking pleased, she swayed her tail gently and swept it across her honey-slicked rear once more.
Each time she did, the swelling from the pumpkin-bee venom subsided a little further.
Kind of reminded me of a bear tearing into a beehive.
That recovery speed made me wonder if she was Wolf Clan or Bear Clan.
"Boss, are you seriously going to wander around with that beastkin? She seems a bit... off."
"Better than the elf who asked if I was a racist the first time we met."
"Th-that... that was..."
Bright red and flustered, she hung her head.
"I-I'm sorry. I must have eaten something strange that day."
"Just don't do it again. But are you sure you want to hang back like this?"
"Huh?"
"Elven pride and all. If a Wolf finds the honey before you do, that pride's going to take a beating, isn't it?"
"If I find it first, don't you dare give that beastkin a sandwich."
"Got it. I'll take it under advisement."
At that, Andrea surged ahead.
Thanks to Andrea and Veronia both throwing themselves into the hunt with competitive fervor,
"Human male! Found it!"
"Ah! I found that first!"
"I was the one who shouted discovery! Therefore, my victory! Mwahahaha!"
"Hey!"
We located the honey much faster than expected.
"Alright, alright, let's call the fight there."
I drew a knife for cutting out the hive. Using a butchering blade on a beehive felt wrong, so I pulled out a small dagger I kept for personal use — the same blade I'd been using since my cook-knight days, worn smooth with use, held in a reverse grip.
Bzzzzzzzz!
The bees kicked up a storm and swarmed at the sudden intruder, but honestly, what could they do?
I carved out the hive with surgical precision, then placed the harvested honeycomb into the sealed container I'd brought along with the picnic basket. A substantial haul.
This'll easily last two months.
This world's bees really did produce staggering quantities. The quality might be a bit lower than cultivated honey, but these bees had fed on the essence of the mountain itself — the flavor would be superior to anything farmed. Wild-harvested always tastes better.
The pumpkin-bees stung my skin sharply, but their thin stingers couldn't pierce me. I was a knight, after all, in my own way.
"Sweet. My mouth is idle. May I eat?"
"No. This is ours."
"A pity. Understood! Then may I now eat this so-called doenjang-guk and the rice rolls? Though I concealed it earlier, I have been starving for a full week!"
I looked at Andrea again.
"Wh-why do you keep looking at me? I s-said it was fine, didn't I?"
"You sounded pretty serious for someone who says it's fine."
"..."
We waited until we were clear of the bees' territory before opening the picnic lunch.
Bulgogi sandwiches, bulgogi gimbap, and a doenjang-guk with tofu and spinach bobbing on the surface. I'd gotten up early on my day off just to make all this...
Sssssizzle.
The phantom sound of bulgogi hitting a hot griddle echoed in my ears, as if I were back at the restaurant on my morning off.