Beastmen Are Crazy, So I Sell Them Therapy

Chapter 36: Chapter 34

”—Lady... My Lady...”

A distant voice floated into my dreams, tugging me out of a very important scenario where I was being swayed gently

I cracked one eye open.

Agatha’s face hovered above me, gentle but persistent. ”My Lady.”

I yawned then I stretched—front paws extended, back arched, tail high.

”Refreshments are ready,” Agatha said softly.

Before I could respond, she carefully scooped me up—like I was both nobility and fragile porcelain—and set me down at the small balcony table.

I blinked.

The table was covered.

Pastries. Delicate fruit tarts. Small butter cookies dusted with powdered sugar. Cream puffs that looked criminally soft. A slice of sponge cake layered with something that definitely required self-control.

And instead of tea—

Milk.

A small porcelain cup filled to the brim.

I gasped. ”Nyang!”

Translation: You understand me on a spiritual level.

Agatha smiled faintly, dipping her head. ”I thought milk would be more to your liking, My Lady.”

Correct because I lack opposable thumbs.

She stepped back. ”I’ll start cleaning the room now.”

She left me on the balcony, closing the doors behind her before beginning to clean the mess I made.

I turned back to my milk and took a long, satisfied drink.

Creamy. Cold. Smooth. Perfect.

As I sipped, my brain—which refuses to rest even when I am physically horizontal—began turning again.

It wasn’t enough.

I still needed to create my own shop.

Carving in secret was fine but I still need income.

Throwing ugly stones off balconies was satisfying but it did not fund long-term ambitions.

If I wanted influence, leverage, and most importantly—funding—I needed structure, distribution, branding, and revenue.

I swallowed the last of the milk and extended a paw, summoning OmniSync.

The interface shimmered into view before me—translucent panels layered with data streams and icons.

I navigated directly to StrataLink.

StrataLink was the largest commercial platform integrated into OmniSync.

Too busy to go to the market? StrataLink.

Don’t want to deal with crowds? StrataLink.

Want to compare prices from five different cities while still in your pajamas? StrataLink.

A digital marketplace where artisans, merchants, and opportunists alike listed their goods. From energy cores and beast equipment to rare herbs and enchanted accessories—everything circulated there.

But it wasn’t just online.

If you had enough capital and approval, you could register a physical storefront under the Regional Network.

The Regional Network functioned like a massive commercial district hub—part marketplace, part trade exchange, part reputation arena. Foot traffic there was enormous. Nobles, adventurers, guild members, and traveling merchants passed through daily.

Online shop = accessibility.

Physical shop = credibility.

And I wanted both.

I flicked through the registration options.

————————————

Shop Type:

☐ Online Only

☐ Online + Regional Network Physical Location

————————————

My paw hovered.

————————————

Brand Category:

☐ Artisan Goods

☐ Alchemical Items

☐ Beast Equipment

☐ Custom Commissions

————————————

————————————

Verification Tier:

☐ Basic

☐Certified

☐ Guild-Recognized (show proof)

————————————

I narrowed my eyes and opened another tab.

————————————

Vendor Requirements:

☐ Deposit fees.

☐ Craftsmanship certification—optional, but heavily weighted in search algorithms.

☐ Customer rating integration.

————————————

High-grade stone sellers were automatically pushed higher in visibility rankings.

And I was currently a small leopard drinking milk on a balcony.

Let’s start subtle.

I opened the shop creation tab.

Shop Name: _______

I leaned back slightly, tail swaying as the gears in my brain began turning.

It had to be elegant, striking, and memorable. Something that sounded expensive even before customers checked the price tag.

A few moments later, a slow grin spread across my face as my paws hovered over the keyboard interface.

’Oh yes. This was it.’

I typed: Crimson Snow Atelier

The moment I confirmed it, the interface shimmered. A new tab slid open smoothly.

Upload Product Samples.

I glanced back toward the balcony doors.

Through the glass, I could see Agatha inside, diligently sweeping stone dust into a neat pile,

Other than the masterpiece currently stabilizing Agatha’s Hysteria, the only finished piece I had on hand was—

The cat beast energy stone.

It had been an experiment at first.

A mixed-color stone carved into a subtle feline silhouette. The ears curved slightly upward, the tail wrapped along the side of the core. When activated, faint silver threads pulsed along the spine.

Luckily, I was a professional.

Which meant I always documented my work.

I pulled up my OmniSync gallery and selected the high-resolution 3D capture file I had recorded earlier.

The video rendered into a rotating holographic model above my interface.

I uploaded it.

The platform processed it instantly.

Then—

There it was.

The carved cat-shaped energy stone now sat proudly on the virtual shelf of Crimson Snow Atelier.

In StrataLink’s real-world projection mode, customers could activate the 3D display and view the item in full dimensional space. Beastmen could zoom in and out, rotate it midair, examine the resonance veins, inspect the polish quality, and observe micro-lattice alignments up close.

I tapped the preview button.

The projection activated.

The stone floated before me, slowly turning in a soft halo of light. The carved feline outline caught the glow beautifully, shadows accentuating the smooth precision of each curve.

I zoomed in then flexed my claws lightly and began typing.

Product Name: Low Grade Energy Stone for Cat Beastmen

The next tab popped up immediately.

Price: _______

Ah.

Yes.

The part where I either become a visionary entrepreneur... or a delusional scammer.

I stared at the blinking cursor.

Now normally, in my past life, pricing my sculptures was easy. Galleries handled it. Collectors fought over it. Wealthy patrons dramatically whispered things like, ”Price is no issue,” while pretending they weren’t checking their bank balance internally.

But here?

I don’t even fully understand how this world’s economy functions.

Imperial Crown. IC.

’Is 100 IC a lot? Is it lunch money? Or is it ”sell your kidney” money?’

I refuse to ask Soren. Absolutely not.

”Hello, hypothetically, what is the appropriate price range for energy stones carved by secretly talented beast who is absolutely not planning a hidden side business?”

No. I have dignity.

And secrets.

So I did what every responsible business owner does when they don’t understand the market.

I stalked the competition.

I browsed StrataLink’s carver apprentice section and my brows immediately shot up, almost hitting the ceiling.

I scrolled through listings of low-grade energy stones. Most were... how do I say this politely?

Abstract.

Some carvings were uneven. Some shapes looked like they lost a fight with a spoon. Some were just... stone. With ambition.

Still, they were labeled ”artisan style.”

Sure. Let’s call it that.

The materials? Similar to mine.

Low-grade energy stone and mixed hues.

Prices?

100 IC.

120 IC.

150 IC.

A bold one at 200 IC.

I leaned back.

So the market baseline for ”low-grade carved energy stone” floats around 100–200 IC.

I returned to my product page and stared at the blank price field.

Then I typed: 500 IC.

And hit enter.

Silence.

No lightning struck.

No system warning popped up saying: ”Ma’am, be serious.”

Because here’s the thing.

Yes, I said the price should be a bit similar.

But I never said my skill level was similar.

My carving wasn’t ”abstract.” It wasn’t ”rustic.” It wasn’t ”energetically asymmetrical.”

It was precise, balanced, and perfect.

And unlike those apprentice pieces, mine actually cured Hysteria.

That feels worth an extra 300 IC, don’t you think?

If anything, 500 IC is generous.

Honestly, if this world had art collectors with functioning taste buds for aesthetics, I could’ve gone at least 1000.

But I am merciful.

For now.

If it sells quickly, I’ll know I underpriced it.

If it doesn’t sell...

Then clearly this world just isn’t ready for me.

Either way—

Crimson Snow Atelier is officially open for business.

Which means...

We require inventory.

You can’t be a luxury brand with one item. So obviously, the only logical solution was:

Mass production.

Artistic, refined, elegant mass production.

I hopped off the balcony railing, rolled my shoulders (well, as much as a small albino leopard can), and gathered the remaining low-grade energy stones Agatha had stored in a velvet pouch.

They clinked softly against each other.

”Alright,” I muttered to myself, flexing my claws. ”Let’s diversify the portfolio.”

For the rest of the afternoon, I carved.

Each cat and fox shaped energy stone had a different posture, a different personality.

One was curled up, tail wrapped neatly around its body — elegant and serene.

One was mid-stretch, back arched, as if it had just woken from a nap.

One sat upright with regal composure, ears sharp, gaze forward — that one felt expensive.

Another had its paw raised playfully, like it was about to bat at invisible string.

Stone dust began collecting on my whiskers. My paws were coated in fine powder. My tail flicked whenever I had to redo a line.

Even if the material is ”low grade,” my technique is not.

By the time the sun dipped lower and golden light filtered through the balcony doors, I had carved eight additional pieces.

Nine total products.

I lined them up on the table.

Different postures, different tones but same signature.

Behind each tiny carved ear, etched carefully:

B.F.

I opened OmniSync again and began uploading them to StrataLink.

Each product got its own 3D rotational preview. I made sure the lighting highlighted the smooth finish and sharp detailing. The interactive model allowed users to zoom in on the paws, the ears, even the faint energy veins running along the body.