Neria (2)

Reading a blurb that oddly reminded me of an adult-site advertisement, I sank into thought for a moment.

Whining about discrimination or wallowing in self-pity wasn't going to solve a single thing. I needed to sort through the problems in front of me, starting with the urgent ones.

First: Mana Pollution.

It was labeled Stage 1, which suggested there might be a Stage 2 and Stage 3 — and that I might not die immediately. Still, the certainty that I would die if I failed to discharge mana over time sat heavy in my chest.

Second: identification.

Without papers, I couldn't even land a dishwashing job. No ID meant no employment. Take the wrong kind of work and I could end up dragged onto some island or ship before I knew it. The situation was so dire I didn't even have the luxury of figuring out whether this was before the novel started or somewhere in the middle.

And going to a public office for identity documents? That was a non-starter. This body was the problem. Humans didn't exist as a species in this world, and with race registered on every ID here, there was no telling what would happen if I tried.

"So the only thing I can do right now is find a beastfolk in heat."

Even if I found one, there was no guarantee they'd sleep with me just because they were in heat — and the idea of jumping into bed with someone I had no feelings for left a sour taste. I glared at the status window with a deeply furrowed brow, then finally let out a long sigh.

"Haah… Still. I have to live. But how am I supposed to find anyone when all it says is 'within a five-kilometer radius'?"

It wasn't like a dating app that would drop a pin on a map. The status window managed to look useful while being completely useless, and it was giving me a headache.

"Guess I just wander around at random."

This was a world crawling with beastfolk. If I kept walking, maybe I'd run into one by pure chance.

"I'm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going insane… How long have I even been walking?"

I'd scoured every corner I could find, and not a single beastfolk in heat had shown so much as a shadow. The sun had long since set. I was wandering a park that had grown thoroughly dark, trying to decide where to search next, when a voice called from behind me.

"Um… e-excuse me…"

"…?"

I turned toward the voice. Beneath a streetlamp stood a woman in a black trench coat, her face flushed red, smiling at me with a soft, sly little grin.

The lamplight caught her so clearly I could almost see the veins beneath her pale legs. Violet-black hair spilled long down her back, and a pair of black wings — dark wings — sprouted from her waist. There were multiple bloodlines among the dark-winged, though, so I couldn't tell what kind of bird beastfolk she was.

Ah… Something about her feels familiar.

In that instant, a soft ding chimed in my head and the status window opened on its own.

Wait — for real?

Only then did I notice that her outfit was the classic flasher look, trench coat and all. She was clutching ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the coat's collar tight with both hands, her expression a mix of exhibitionist thrill and eager anticipation of my reaction.

"I-I'm looking for a place, but I don't really know the way…"

…Ah. So that was the setup.

I could play along with something like this all day. After hours of wandering, my body and mind were too exhausted to care about the awkwardness of sleeping with a complete stranger.

"I know this area pretty well, actually. Ask me anything."

A complete lie, of course. I'd walked around, sure — but one circuit of the neighborhood didn't mean I'd memorized the streets. Still, situations had their own logic. It wasn't the harsh wind that peeled a traveler's coat away, but the warm sun. If I approached her smiling like this, she'd think her guard was down and shrug that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coat off… right?

"W-wait a second."

"Hm?"

Her face changed color all at once and she shifted into a defensive stance. The moment I took a step forward, she took a step back.

…Why was she retreating?

"Hey, don't back away. Let's just talk for a bit."

"N-no, I'm sorry! I think I know the way now…!"

What the hell, all of a sudden? You're in heat. Why are you running? If this goes wrong, I actually die.

Her wings flared and beat as if she were about to take flight. In the end, I abandoned human dignity and dropped to my knees. If this chance vanished, who knew when the next one would come?

"W-wait! Please just listen! The truth is, if I don't have sex right now, I might die!"

"E-eh? What??"

"I know how completely insane that sounds. I know. But that's genuinely the situation I'm in!"

"H-hold on—"

"My body was born unable to process mana properly, so it just keeps piling up inside me, and now I've got this Mana Pollution thing and I'm about to die! Please, just have sex with me once!"

"Okay, okay — just, p-please lower your voice…!"

She shrieked at me to quiet down under the weight of my desperate explanation. After a moment of suspicious staring, she straightened from her awkward crouch and slowly opened her mouth.

"C-could you… turn around for a second…?"

The power dynamic between us was already crystal clear, so I spun around for her without hesitation.

"Should I, uh… take my clothes off too?"

"N-no. The clothes can stay…"

"…Got it."

A moment later I heard her footsteps approaching, then felt something like a palm press against my back through the fabric. A stretch of silence followed.

"Whoa… i-it's real…"

"Right? I'm not the type who goes around lying about this kind of thing."

"Ah. Th-that part's a lie, though. Y-your heart rate is…"

"…Anyway. Please. Just once. Would that be okay?"

This time I went further — past kneeling, all the way into a full forehead-to-the-ground prostration, packing every ounce of pathetic desperation I could muster into it. I poured the full tragedy of a man dying for lack of sex into the pose, trying to look as pitiful as humanly possible.

When I snuck a glance up and our eyes met, she looked faintly appalled.

"W-well… um. F-for now… want to come to my place…?"

"Wow. You live somewhere really nice."

Neria, the crow beastfolk, sat on the sofa and studied her first overnight guest of the night.

A black-haired, black-eyed man who looked like he hadn't showered in days. Under ordinary circumstances she would never have brought a stranger she'd just met — someone she hadn't even exchanged names with — into her home. But…

That anomaly in his body. Mana Pollution.

Neria had found herself genuinely intrigued by it.

And if things went sideways, well — a civilian who couldn't use so much as a speck of mana was nothing she couldn't subdue without lifting a finger. She was a direct descendant of the Crow clan and a student of Manryeong Academy. Even if this man turned out to have ill intentions, it wouldn't matter.

Still… how is he even alive?

Death Sense.

The innate ability of crow beastfolk. She could feel the aura of death — from the death approaching her own self to, if she deepened the skill, the deaths of others.

This man carried a dense mass of mana inside him and couldn't circulate any of it. The aura rolling off him was the thick, heavy presence she only ever felt from people on the brink of dying.

She had a rough idea why.

The high-purity mana she'd just seen inside his body. Mana that entered a living vessel always took on that vessel's color — yet what filled him remained completely unstained, extremely pure, and extraordinarily dense.

It should be circulating on its own.

Mana naturally settled into the body and naturally left it again. That was the way of the world. This man's body only trapped it, never releasing a drop.

No matter how hardy a beastfolk's physique might be, without circulation he should already have been dead. A phenomenon she'd never seen before — the very kind of anomaly she'd been searching for — had hooked a crow's curiosity hard.

Ah… just thinking about earlier is making the heat flare up again… I need to put clothes on…

The moment she remembered that until minutes ago she'd been walking through a public park naked under nothing but a trench coat, heat flooded her body all over again.

The heat that began when a beastfolk turned twenty. Coincidentally, every dose of suppressant she'd been prescribed had run out — and the first real act of rebellion in her life, going outside exposed like that, had been driven by the heat itself.

A mind that had been holding onto reason through sheer curiosity began to go numb.

Ah… this wasn't good.

Born a crow beastfolk, she couldn't let her most important first experience be with a man she barely knew.

She'd been so focused on his constitution that she'd completely failed to account for her own heat.

"Sorry, but would it be okay if I took a shower first?"

"Y-yes…"

She gave a vague answer to the man, who seemed oddly attentive to her mood, then staggered up from the sofa and walked to her room, water already beading on her skin.

She couldn't… hold on any longer.

"Oh man. That's warm."

I'd barely washed during the whole stretch of holing up at home, and then I'd been dumped onto the street — the grime had been unbearable. I'd been dying for this. A real shower after so long…

Washing myself in high spirits, I wiped the fog from the mirror and studied my body and face.

"How old is this…? Right before the military, maybe?"

It felt like I'd been rolled back seven or eight years. Every unsightly scar was gone, and the face looking back at me was more than decent.

"Shame about the last of the muscle, though."

I hummed under my breath and scrubbed for maybe twenty minutes, then roughly towel-dried and stared at the filthy clothes I'd been wearing all day.

"Ugh… Do I really have to put those back on?"

The thought of wrapping a freshly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cleaned body in dust-caked rags was revolting. Fortunately, while rummaging through the bathroom shelves I found a large towel, so I wrapped it around my waist and poked my head out the door.

I'd hoped there might be something wearable waiting outside — but the hallway was empty. Of course a woman's apartment wouldn't stock clothes that fit a man.

The living room lights were already off. Clinging to a single towel, I took a few steps into the dim corridor.

I knew it was shameless to wander a stranger's house like this, but she'd been the one strolling outside in nothing but a coat — a flasher in her own right — so she'd understand. I had no intention of staying like this forever, so I carefully called toward Neria down the dark hallway.

"Excuse me — do you have anything I could wear?"

No answer came, no matter how long I waited. Then, far down the hall, light spilling from under a bedroom door caught my eye.

Maybe she was inside and just hadn't heard me?

"Hmm…"

I didn't want to put my own clothes back on, and calling again didn't seem likely to bring her out.

…

Nothing to lose, right?

With that thought, I approached the door at the end of the hall and carefully pushed it open — and my body locked up on the spot.

Anyone who saw this room would have frozen the same way.

Hundreds of notes and countless photographs of people filled the space. Papers covered in personal details were packed so densely across the walls, the ceiling, even the desk that it looked like the work of someone with a severe compulsion.

"…What the hell is this."

In that instant, someone hot pressed against me from behind, and sharp nails caught the towel at my waist. I had no idea when she'd gotten so close. Hot breath forced itself against my ear.

"Y-you shouldn't… look at other people's rooms without permission. You were the one who messed up first… r-right?"

…Somebody save me.