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Chapter 06
The probability that the named magical beast inside—currently eating people—had failed to notice those outside? Zero.
The probability that two people with no special abilities could escape the beast, avoid being caught, and go call for reinforcements? Also zero.
The probability that she—a gun knight—would skip the aptitude test, forcibly awaken her Ode immediately regardless of side effects or rejection, and then defeat a named magical beast bare-handed, without even a gun?
“That depends on what type of beast it is—but it’s not zero.”
It took exactly three seconds to reach that conclusion.
Rita decided to forcibly awaken her Ode and fight the beast.
“If this body has no aptitude for Ode and I go into convulsions, I’m done for. Or maybe this is another world and awakening won’t even work in the first place…”
Even so, she had to try. There was no other chance of survival.
Cold sweat flooded her entire body in an instant.
“Damn it—didn’t you say there were no magical beasts here?!”
She was about to curse Leonhardt and awaken her Ode when—
“Why, miss? Is there a mouse or something?”
Hannah suddenly popped up behind her, poking her head into the dressing room.
“…!”
If this had been the trained body of Rita Pascal, she wouldn’t have let a civilian slip by like this—but Lillietta’s frail body was even weaker than Hannah’s, hardened by maid work.
In other words, before she could react, Hannah had already stepped into the dressing room.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything here…”
“No!”
Rita shouted a warning in panic.
“The smell! There’s a smell! Get back—get back now!”
“The smell?”
Hannah, who should have been torn apart at any moment, calmly poked her head back out of the dressing room and held up a small pouch.
“Do you mean this smell?”
A thick, sharp scent wafted out of the little pouch—the smell of a named magical beast digesting humans.
‘What is that?’
For a moment, Rita couldn’t comprehend the situation.
While she stood frozen, Hannah opened the sachet and showed her the dried leaves inside.
“It’s patchouli. They say it repels insects, so I hung a sachet in the dressing room, but…”
“…Patchouli?”
Rita blinked blankly.
“A sachet? Not a magical beast?”
“Huh? What’s a magical beast?”
“……”
Still on guard, Rita cautiously approached Hannah, took the sachet, and examined its contents carefully.
Inside the pretty pouch decorated with colored thread were nothing but completely dried leaves.
She picked one up and sniffed it—and her spine tensed reflexively. An overwhelming urge surged up to draw a gun she didn’t even have.
Suppressing the screaming instincts barely, she forced herself to think.
‘Is this really a patchouli leaf?’
In her own world, this scent had also been described as patchouli. There had been a plant by that name there, too.
It was just that the smell was so similar to that of a named magical beast devouring humans—and brought back such horrific memories—that no one ever used it.
‘This really is another world. They actually stuff something this creepy into a sachet and use it.’
Using only her fingertips, as little contact as possible, Rita put the leaf back into the sachet and returned it to Hannah the same way.
Because of the smell, it felt like sticking her hand into a beast’s guts—she didn’t want to touch it. Horrific scenes kept flashing through her mind.
She spoke with difficulty.
“Please… put that far away. Somewhere it won’t smell.”
Hannah took the pouch back, looking confused.
“Miss, you don’t like this scent?”
“Yeah. I hate it. I never want to smell it again.”
“It’s popular and expensive, though… People hang it in dressing rooms to keep bugs away and let the scent soak into clothes—it’s the trend these days. Just a moment, there’s more inside.”
“There’s more of that in there?”
“Well, this is Lascail, after all. They hang up plenty. Patchouli has to be imported from distant lands, so it’s not easy to get. What a shame that you don’t like it…”
Sighing, Hannah told Rita to wait and went back into the dressing room.
When she came out holding several identical sachets, the patchouli scent grew even stronger—strong enough that even an ordinary person would find it overpowering.
“…!”
Rita couldn’t calm herself in the face of that smell.
‘It’s too much… Is she a magical beast wearing human skin? Is she really human? This is another world. There are no magical beasts here… right? Are you sure? Really?’
Out of habit, she tried sensing with her Ode. Nothing moved. No—there was no response at all. She was unawakened.
She had no way to tell whether the person in front of her was human or a beast.
It felt like being an ant with its antennae cut off. Or a dog with a numb nose. A seeing blind person.
She couldn’t tell what was in front of her.
She felt like she was losing her mind.
What if this civilian is actually a named magical beast mimicking a human?
Blood. Screams. Howls. The nose-stinging scent of patchouli. Shrill cries. People running. A child wailing.
A squadmate who had gone to check beyond the wall comes back. Suddenly, an unfamiliar patchouli scent wafts from their body.
A familiar face. Someone she knows. But that smell is there—the smell of a beast.
As the squadmate approaches, the patchouli scent grows stronger. Rita knows what happens next.
A friend steps forward to greet the returning squadmate. Why do you smell like a beast? The patchouli-scented squadmate smiles.
They smile until their mouth splits, opening all the way to their ears—and in an instant, they swallow her friend whole.
The beast bursts out, tearing apart the skin it had been wearing.
Codename: Mimic.
With her friend’s head clamped in its jaws like candy, the beast turns to look at Rita. The stench grows even stronger, dizzying—
No.
“Kyaaah! Ngh—please! I’m sorry! Please spare me! Plea—!”
“Lillietta! Stop it!”
The suffocating scream of a woman and the horrified shout of a man finally snapped her back to reality.
Instead of a world drenched in blood and patchouli, she saw the corridor of a sunlit mansion.
Someone was gripping her wrist tightly, forcing her hand away.
Rita realized she had almost snapped Hannah’s neck. If this had been Rita Pascal’s own body rather than frail Lillietta’s, she might really have killed her.
‘Damn it—get a grip, Rita Pascal. Get a grip…’
The beast’s smell was gone. Gone—no, it wasn’t. The beast opened its mouth. Her friend’s head rolled inside—
“…Get rid of it.”
“What?”
“Get rid of that! Right now!”
Clutching her face with both hands, Rita screamed.
“Get rid of what? What’s wrong with you, Rita?”
A panicked man’s voice—it was Leonhardt. Hannah, gasping, hurriedly told him,
“I—it’s the pa-pa-patchouli! I think it’s because of this!”
There was a loud clatter. Low, questioning voices. Tearful voices. And finally, the smell faded away.
Rita slumped down in a corner of the corridor, covering her face. Her shoulders heaved as if she’d been sprinting at full speed. Hugging herself, she took ragged breaths.
“Rita. Easy. It’s okay.”
“The magical beast is gone now. We’re all safe.”
“You killed it. You won. So you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
The voice of a comrade who had once comforted her echoed in her mind.
“Take a deep breath. Then let it out slowly… Good. You’re doing well.”
Breathing in deeply and exhaling, she gradually calmed down.
As her reason returned, anger at herself surged up. Rita clenched her teeth, pressing a hand to her forehead.
‘Damn it. Look at the state of you, Rita Pascal.’
Her now-clear mind immediately identified the problem.
It was the Ode.
If she’d been able to sense her surroundings with Ode as usual, no matter how strong the beast’s smell was, she wouldn’t have lost control like that.
All of the Pascal children, who had fought desperately on the battlefield since a young age, had mental issues of one kind or another.
Among Pascals, they understood each other, so even overreactions or strange behavior were brushed off—but among others, things often escalated.
That was one of the reasons the Beacon squad was made up entirely of Pascal children.
Rita wiped her sweat-soaked face and thought,
‘Forget mapping the mansion. I need to try awakening my Ode first.’
“Lillietta.”
She slowly lifted her head. Leonhardt had returned and was looking down at her with a stiff expression.
“Are you… okay?”
He swallowed whatever he’d been about to say the moment he saw her face and asked anxiously, quickly crouching down to meet her eyes.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? You’re pale as a ghost. Tell your brother what happened, okay?”
He brushed the sweat-stuck hair away from her face, his voice urgent.
She instinctively wanted to slap his hand away, but she had no strength left. Rita replied weakly,
“Do we really have to keep up this ‘Lillietta’ role-play even now? Just ask me outright. What kind of insane stunt this is.”
