Blanca Frostine transmigrated into the very beast-world novel she’d been reading.

Great.
Fantastic.
Even better? This world had a massive problem.

In this empire, beastmen suffered from a condition called Hysteria. When their emotions spiked, they lost control and turned into rampaging monsters. When their emotions dipped too low, they reverted into small, helpless beast cubs. Therapy existed, technically, in the form of rare energy stones—but there was a catch. The stones only worked if they were hand-carved into the exact animal form of the beastman.

The more realistic the sculpture, the stronger the calming effect.
The more lifelike the carving, the more times it could be reused.

Which was where Blanca’s luck kicked in.

In her previous life, she’d been a legendary sculptor—wealthy, talented, and famously difficult to deal with. Her works were so vivid they felt like they were breathing. People waited months just to beg for a commission, and because she had zero patience for nonsense, the art world had crowned her with a fitting title:

The Sculptress.

So when Blanca realized she could carve energy stones better than anyone in this world, romance was not her first concern.

Powerful beast husbands?
Fated mates?
Tragic, handsome generals with emotional damage?

She waved all of it away. “I’ll date later,” she decided calmly. “After I get rich.”

And so, instead of a love story, she opened a shop.

A small, suspiciously low-effort store suddenly appeared on the Regional Network, selling palm-sized sculptures carved with terrifying realism. Just looking at the screen was enough to calm raging emotions. The empire lost its mind overnight. Orders flooded in. Nobles panicked. The military took notes.

Unfortunately, the shop owner was… Lazy, sharp-tongued, and deeply uninterested in customer satisfaction.

“No rush orders.”
“No refunds.”
“Stop messaging me at 3 a.m.”
“And stop flirting in the reviews.”

Still, her sculptures sold out within seconds.

What Blanca didn’t expect was the growing number of powerful beastmen who began appearing in her life—each claiming they just needed emotional treatment, each lingering a little too long, each staring at her hands like they were something far more dangerous than weapons.

After all, in an empire full of beasts who lost control when their emotions ran wild, Blanca Frostine was the only one who could calm them with a touch.

And while she kept insisting she wasn’t interested in love—

Love, unfortunately, seemed very interested in her.

“Screw finding a husband,” Blanca thought, carving another masterpiece. “…Why do they keep lining up anyway?”

Soren's lips curved upwards. "Did you miss me?"


Translation: No. I was just relieved that you came late or else you would have seen the drones flying away. 


He studied me suspiciously. "Why do I feel like you just said something incriminating?"


By the way, why didn't Agatha tell me he was inside?


I glanced around the room, scanning for her presence—but she was nowhere to be found.


"Are you looking for Agatha?" Soren asked.


He pushed off the wall and walked further inside the room. "She still had work to do."


I padded toward him, my steps soft against the carpet. He crouched instinctively when I stopped in front of him, one hand resting on his knee.


His fingers rested lightly on his knee as he studied me. "What did you do while I was gone, huh?"


Chapter 39 - Chapter 37