UR Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“You mean, have I ever fallen in love at first sight?”

Eun Sung-jun echoed the question back. It wasn’t because he didn’t understand what Beom-ho meant—it was just strange hearing that kind of question from him.

If it were anyone else, fine. But Eun Beom-ho? Asking about love? That was the confusing part. His entire daily routine revolved around work and workouts. The man didn’t even blink at the endless stream of blind dates thrown at him. His grandfather was practically pulling his hair out with frustration.

“…Well, I guess I have.”

Sung-jun answered slowly. Anyone with even a bit of interest in dating had probably used the phrase ‘love at first sight’ at least once or twice when meeting someone who checked all the right boxes. Even someone like Sung-jun, with zero dating experience, had gone through that.

“When I was in high school in the States, there was this senior in my club—he was a dog beastman. I fell for him. And then—”

He looked up toward the ceiling, mumbling as if trying to recall something, then started folding his fingers one by one.

“What did you do?”

“That was my first love. I picked some flowers from the school garden and confessed to him. But he had a pollen allergy, so he got mad at me. Then I got dragged to the principal’s office for stepping in the flowerbed. And the next day? He didn’t even remember I confessed. Mixed me up with someone else.
Turns out dog beastmen have really bad memory. And then in college, I fell for this snake beastman from one of my general ed classes—”

“Really?”

As Beom-ho responded, Sung-jun lowered his gaze. Thinking about past crushes wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but something about it made him pause.

“…But why are you asking, sir? Are you genuinely curious about my unrequited love history?”

Since Sung-jun had a tendency to fall fast and easily, he’d had quite a few “love at first sight” moments. His crushes came from all kinds of species—snake beastmen, dog beastmen, ordinary humans, even a tiny hamster beastman once…
Whether or not he even had a “type” was a mystery. He’d been rejected so many times that he couldn’t remember most of them. And after all that? Not even a single actual romance had ever followed.

“I am. Can you tell me a bit more about one of those stories?”

But here was Beom-ho, asking seriously about such a silly, pointless memory.

“Uh… Should I explain it like a Twitter thread? Or write it up as a research paper?”

Eun Beom-ho leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes focused, genuinely intrigued.

“Falling in love at first sight is kind of like a traffic accident—you can’t predict or plan it.”

Sung-jun began, recalling a lecture from his first year of university, a general psychology course.

“What stuck with me the most was when the professor said, ‘Love at first sight is actually just a cognitive error in the brain.’”

He trailed off, his eyes drifting toward some far-off mountain view—then suddenly, he turned back with a sharp look, as if something had just clicked.

“Wait… why are you being so serious? Don’t tell me—you’ve never been in a relationship?”

Sung-jun tilted his head, his tone somewhere between disbelief and teasing. Sure, he himself had never dated either, but still—wasn’t this going too far? Why was his boss asking about other people’s love lives with sparkling eyes like some lovesick teenager?

He had gone to dinner once with Chief Jung, someone he vaguely liked, but that was the furthest he’d ever gotten. Not enough to call it experience.

But Eun Beom-ho? All throughout university, he was surrounded by people constantly. Why would he be the one asking him about love?
Beom-ho wasn’t just anyone—he was the ideal upperclassman everyone admired, the one people whispered about with stars in their eyes. Meanwhile, Sung-jun was just… the guy with a string of unrequited crushes.

And yet…

Beom-ho leaned back in his plush chair and slowly turned the handle of the teacup in his hand. Then, with a calm nod, he said,

“I haven’t.”

“But… you were super popular.”

“Being popular and being in a relationship aren’t the same thing.”
He shook his head firmly.

“Wow. Not even when you were in your beast form? With other beastmen?”

Sung-jun couldn’t hide his surprise. Beom-ho was a pureblood tiger, direct descendant of a dominant alpha bloodline. If he wanted to meet other beastmen, it couldn’t have been hard.

“I would’ve thought people fought over you. Don’t tigers do that kind of thing?”

As a serval beastman, Sung-jun wasn’t all that familiar with tiger customs. But from what he knew, a beastman’s instincts and personality often changed depending on whether they were in human form or their true beast form.
Some beastmen acted cold and disinterested when in human form, claiming they didn’t care about romance—but during mating season, when in their true forms, they’d be entirely different, cycling through partners with no emotional attachment.

“Well… I wouldn’t know,” Beom-ho replied simply.

He took another sip of his hot tea, as if he had nothing more to say. With no change in his calm demeanor, Eun Beom-ho spoke in an even tone.

“Even if they fought over me, female tigers have too much pride to do it in front of a male. It’s a matter of the mountain’s dignity, and the pride of a king.”

“Is that so?”

“Sung-jun. Tigers hate group life more than anything. They’re extremely individualistic. They’re also jealous—if their mate fools around with someone else, they can’t even stand to look. If I’d ever dated or… mated with someone, I’d already have to be married by now. And once they’re interested, the stronger one circles the weaker, waiting for a chance.
Even if it’s a female doing the circling, it starts with a power struggle. The one who wins gets to pin the other. It’s conservative—first experience is final experience.”

He placed the teacup down and let out a long sigh. His gentle smile concealed something sharp, cold—cutting.

“What about servals?”

“…Wow, is this the Joseon Dynasty or something? We’re not like that. We date freely. Waiting for a chance and overpowering someone—that’s because you’re a pureblood, isn’t it?”

Sung-jun had heard rumors that tiger beastmen were absurdly conservative and old-fashioned. Now he was realizing what that actually meant. “First experience is final experience?” In a world where casual dating was the norm, what kind of line was that?

“I’m not entirely sure, but maybe. We share the same genes, so maybe it’s similar. Anyway—what about servals?”

“Servals… I mean, nothing special. Us general beastmen are pretty much the same as humans.”

Sung-jun thought of his parents’ love story. Both Libyan serval beastmen, they had met on a business trip to the Middle East and fallen for each other at first sight. It wasn’t their first relationship, just a casual connection that led to dating. They exchanged numbers, went on dates—it was all very normal.

Not all beastmen were driven by weird instincts. Most general beastmen, the kind who only had visible ears or tails, were barely any different from humans. Sung-jun even lived his life believing he was no different from a human himself.

“If we fall in love at first sight, we just express interest like normal. Of course, the one who falls first usually ends up as the ‘submissive’ party. So we throw ourselves out there, show off our charm.”

“……”

“The one courting is supposed to ask for a number, give gifts—that’s how you express attraction, right?
If I were a bird beastman, I’d gather twigs or feathers to build a nest together, but servals these days are modernized. Usually we just follow them on social media, or—”

“……”

“Invite them out to a meat buffet. Carnivores eat a lot of meat, after all. So, the best approach is to use food.”

In Sung-jun’s opinion, the most natural response to falling in love at first sight was simply showing affection. Share something you enjoy. Exchange fun conversations. From there, it would naturally develop into a relationship.

“Is that so? But I only know one thing they like.”

That mumble made Sung-jun’s ears twitch with curiosity. He perked up, lips curling into an excited smile.

“Wait… CEO. Are you seriously telling me… you’ve fallen for someone at first sight and you’re asking me for dating advice?”

His eyes sparkled. The idea that the seemingly perfect CEO was this flustered over love? It was way too interesting. Who on earth could it be?

“Yeah. We’re not close yet, but there’s one more problem.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t think they’re a pureblood beastman.”

Beom-ho’s expression grew serious.

It was easy to assume that being a pureblood beastman came with only advantages. But that was a shallow view. The truth was, their strength came from the sheer force of the pheromones they gave off—what people often called energy.
While that energy helped during mating seasons by intensifying attraction, it also had a dark side: the aura of a predator that could physically overpower or paralyze others.

Someone unaccustomed to those pheromones would inevitably collapse under the weight of it. In ancient times, it was a survival advantage. But in modern society, where humans and beastmen coexisted, it was more like a punishment.

“…CEO. Wait. You didn’t think they were a pureblood and—”

“What?”

“You didn’t… mount them or anything, did you?”

“Not quite… I’ll explain later.”

Haa. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
Watching him like that, something tugged at Sung-jun’s heart. The man who always seemed perfect—handsome, flawless, enviable—suddenly looked like an ordinary person with worries. Someone struggling to connect, just like everyone else.

“Yeah, it’s hard for purebloods to find a partner, right? If someone can’t handle your energy, they could literally pass out just from eye contact. And if you try to overpower someone who’s not even a tiger? That could end really badly.”

He even felt… a little sorry for him.

“Ah—I think I know a solution. Prusten!”

Sung-jun’s eyes lit up, thrilled by the sudden idea.

“Prusten?”

Beom-ho’s brow twitched at the word.

Prusten—a form of vocalization used by large cats like tigers or leopards. Among beastmen, it was a kind of emotional expression. Specifically, a form of courtship behavior that showed affection and friendliness.
In short: transform into his beast form—or something close to it—and gently release his pheromones to help the other person adjust.

The worry on his face vanished. His sharp features lit up with interest. He nodded slowly, as if the idea made sense.

“I’ve heard of it.”

“The problem is the pheromones, right? That energy? You need contact to share it, but if you dump too much at once, they’ll pass out.”

“Exactly.”

Beom-ho’s expression grew serious again. Though he lived as a human, half of him was still beast.
He knew he carried both hunting and mating pheromones—but clearly didn’t know how to use them properly.

“Then there’s only one answer. Make contact in your beast form. I read this in a research paper once—when a pureblood beastman wants to bond with a non-beastman or general beastman, they need to release pheromones through touch in their original form to help them adapt.”

“……”

“Remember when you told me people mistake you for a serval when you’re in your juvenile form?”

“Yeah.”

“And how you said most people can’t even tell the difference between a serval and a regular housecat.
That could work in your favor. Although… I guess it’d be hard to go around touching a human like that. Ah, but…”

Sung-jun trailed off and glanced sideways at Beom-ho.
He knew full well how humiliating it must be for a beastman to lower themselves like that—to expose their beast form to a human just to share pheromones. They weren’t animals begging for treats at a zoo. They had pride.

But to his surprise, Beom-ho didn’t look offended. Quite the opposite—his brow arched upward in interest.