TRL 06

Chapter 6

The probability that a named beast inside was devouring someone and hadn’t noticed them outside? Zero.

The chance that two unarmed civilians could escape a beast and call for help without getting caught? Also zero.

The odds that she—without a gun, forcibly awakened into ODE, skipping aptitude tests, and risking rejection or side effects—could fight and win against a named beast barehanded?

‘Depends on what kind of beast it is, but… not zero.’

She made the decision in just three seconds.

Rita decided to force an awakening and fight the beast.

‘If this body lacks ODE aptitude, I could die from seizures. Or if this is another world entirely, maybe I can’t awaken at all…’

Still, she had to try. There was no other possibility for survival.

Cold sweat instantly soaked her entire body.

‘Damn it, didn’t he say there were no beasts here?!’

Just as she was about to awaken her ODE while cursing Leonhardt—

“Miss? What’s wrong? Did you see a mouse?”

Hannah suddenly popped up behind her and peeked into the dressing room.

“…!”

If this had been Rita Pascal’s trained body, she wouldn’t have let a civilian slip by like that. But the frail body of Lillietta was weaker even than Hannah, who was hardened from her maid duties.

Before Rita could react, Hannah had already stepped inside the dressing room.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything here…”

“No, wait!”

Rita cried out urgently.

“The smell! Don’t you smell that? Back away! Step back, now!”

“Smell?”

Hannah, who looked like she was about to be torn apart by a beast, stuck her head out with a confused face and held up a small pouch.

“Do you mean this smell?”

A strong, sharp scent emanated from the tiny pouch—exactly the kind that named beasts emitted while digesting humans.

‘What the hell is that?’

Rita was momentarily confused.

While she stood there, pale and frozen, Hannah opened the scented pouch and showed her the dried leaves inside.

“It’s patchouli. It’s supposed to repel insects, so we hang these in the dressing room…”

“…Patchouli?”

She blinked blankly and repeated the word.

“A scent pouch? Not a beast?”

“Huh? What’s a beast?”

“…”

Rita cautiously approached Hannah, still in a defensive stance. She took the pouch from her and thoroughly inspected it.

The pretty pouch, decorated with colored threads, was filled only with dried leaves.

She picked one out and sniffed it—her spine tensed instinctively. She wanted to draw a gun she didn’t even have.

Suppressing the wild alarms going off inside her, she tried to think clearly.

‘Is this patchouli?’

In her world, a similar scent was described as patchouli. That plant existed there too.

But because the scent was nearly identical to what named beasts gave off while devouring people, it triggered horrific memories—no one used it.

‘This really is another world. They put this revolting stuff in scent pouches?’

Careful not to touch it directly, Rita pinched the leaf by its tip and dropped it back into the pouch. Then, using just her fingertips, she handed it back to Hannah.

The smell reminded her of reaching into the guts of a beast—she didn’t want to touch it. Horrible memories kept flashing through her mind.

She said with effort:

“Take it… far away. So it doesn’t smell.”

Hannah took the pouch with a startled expression.

“You don’t like this scent, Miss?”

“No. I hate it. I never want to smell it again.”

“But it’s a popular and rare scent… It’s trendy to hang these in dressing rooms so the scent lingers on your clothes. Hold on, there are more inside.”

“There are more of these in there?”

“This is Lascaille. Of course we hang a bunch. Patchouli is imported from far away, it’s not easy to get. It’s a shame you dislike it…”

Hannah sighed, told Rita to wait, and stepped into the dressing room.

When she returned with several more of the same pouches in hand, the patchouli scent grew stronger. Even an ordinary person would’ve found the stench overwhelming.

“…!”

Rita couldn’t keep calm anymore.

‘The smell—this isn’t a person, is it? It’s not some beast disguised as a person? It’s okay. This is a different world. There are no beasts here… Right? Are you sure?’

She instinctively tried to sense with ODE. Nothing responded. Not even a flicker. She was unawakened.

She had no way to tell if someone was a person or a beast.

She felt like an ant with its antennae cut off. Or a dog with no sense of smell. Blind and lost.

She couldn’t tell what was in front of her.

She felt like she was losing her mind.

Was this civilian actually a named beast mimicking a human?

Blood. Screams. Roars. The stench of patchouli. Cries. People running. A child wailing.

A squad member returns from investigating behind the wall. Suddenly, he smells like patchouli.

A familiar face. Someone she trusts. But that scent… the smell of a beast.

As he approaches, the smell thickens. Rita remembers exactly what happens next.

A teammate steps up to greet the returning squad member. “Why do you smell like a beast?” she asks.

The patchouli-scented squad member grins.

He grins so wide it tears his cheeks. Then, in an instant, that grin swallows the teammate whole.

The beast bursts out of the squad member’s skin.

Codename: Mimic.

The beast, chewing her friend’s head like a candy, turns to her. The stench is unbearable. She gets dizzy—

No.

“Aaahhh! Cough Please! I’m sorry! Help…!”

“Lillietta! Stop!”

A panicked female scream. A terrified male voice. That snapped Rita out of it.

She wasn’t in a battlefield soaked in blood and patchouli. She was in a warm hallway filled with sunlight.

Someone forcefully pried her hand away.

That’s when Rita realized—she had almost snapped Hannah’s neck. If she’d been in Rita Pascal’s body, not Lillietta’s, she might have killed her for real.

‘Dammit. Get a grip, Rita Pascal. Get a grip…’

The beast’s smell was gone. No—it wasn’t. The beast opened its mouth. Her friend’s head rolled out of it…

“…Get rid of it.”

“What?”

“Get rid of it! Now!”

Rita clutched her face with both hands and screamed.

“What? Get rid of what? Rita, what’s going on?”

Leonhardt’s panicked voice. Hannah, panting, cried out,

“Pa—Patchouli! It’s the patchouli, I think!”

There was a loud commotion. Urgent whispers, a tearful voice, then finally, the scent receded.

Rita sat down in the hallway corner with her face covered. Her shoulders trembled like she’d just sprinted a marathon. She held herself tightly, taking ragged breaths.

“Rita. Shh. You’re okay now.”

“The beast is gone. We’re all safe.”

“You killed it. You won. So you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

The voice of a comrade who used to comfort her echoed in her mind.

“Take a deep breath, okay? Then slowly let it out… Good. That’s it.”

Breathing deeply in and out, she gradually calmed down.

When reason returned, so did fury—at herself. Rita clenched her jaw and pressed her forehead.

‘Damn it. What the hell was that, Rita Pascal.’

Her rational mind reached a conclusion immediately.

The problem was the ODE.

If she’d been using ODE to sense her surroundings like usual, she wouldn’t have spiraled like this, no matter how strong the beast’s scent was.

Every child of the Pascals, raised on battlefields from youth, carried some kind of psychological trauma.

Among fellow Pascals, those quirks were overlooked—but among outsiders, things often got messy.

That’s one reason the Beacon Squad was composed entirely of Pascals.

Rita wiped her sweat-drenched face and thought,

‘Forget learning the mansion layout—I need to awaken my ODE first.’

“Lillietta.”

She slowly lifted her head. Leonhardt was looking down at her with a hardened expression.

“You… are you okay?”

He had been about to say something else, but when he saw her face, he swallowed his words and asked with concern. Then he quickly crouched to her level.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? You’re pale. Tell me what’s going on, please?”

He gently brushed the hair stuck to her sweaty face, his voice urgent.

She wanted to slap his hand away reflexively, but had no strength left. So instead, Rita responded weakly.

“Even now, I still have to play the role of ‘Lillietta’? Just say it. Say this is insane.”