The truth was complicated.

Grayson had attended exactly one singles party in his entire life. He had lasted approximately eleven minutes after entering the floor where the event would happen.

The mixed pheromones had hit him like a wall of humid, rotting scent the moment he entered the corridor leading to the venue.

Grayson quickly and unhesitatingly turned on his heel and walked directly back out. He got into his hovercar, drove home, and blocked his mother’s contact for three days.

He really had no experience.

None. Zero.

Not that he was ashamed of not having one. It was just that because of his extreme dominant trait, his hair-trigger pheromone sensitivity, if unregulated. He made sure to strictly regulate the pheromones in the company.

Plus, his general distaste for most of the intelligent beings had made it functionally impossible.

But how could he say that to Neville, who was the object of his affection and obviously compatible with him to some high degree, even without testing?

That would surely terrify Neville or maybe even call him a liar, given how innocent he was in these kinds of things.

His temples throbbed. He pressed two fingers against the side of his head and said nothing.

Neville interpreted Grayson’s silence as confirmation and nodded slowly to himself.

It just made sense, didn’t it?

In this ABO world, ruts and heats were biological necessities. Not addressing them was seriously dangerous—health-damaging, even.

And Grayson, as an extremely dominant alpha, would have had it worse than most.

The full moon transformations for beastmen on top of ruts? That was a double whammy of physiological stress.

Of course, he would have someone to... manage it.

Neville’s thoughts circled back to a certain recent incident.

This also explained why Grayson had been so bold during his rut. No sense of boundaries at all.

If the man had prior experience with partners from those singles events and the like, then naturally he would approach physical, sexual proximity with a certain... familiarity.

Nodding to himself, a strangely sharp and unpleasant feeling twisted briefly in Neville’s chest. He told himself that it must have been the culture shock.

After all, as a transmigrated human from Earth with human-like co-workers, all this time just felt like he transmigrated in the high-tech fantasy world with pheromone and mermaid maintenance.

Even if he briefly forgot about it from time to time, that was just how it was.

This was an interstellar ABO world.

He now lives in a world with slightly different rules. He had to do what Romans do, keep his own beliefs to himself and not judge.

Although when he thought about it, wasn’t it a bit unfair?

Neville was the only one between the two of them who had gone into a certain situation completely green.

Hadn’t Grayson even had the decency to be awkward about it?

The man had acted like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Which, apparently, he did.

As these thoughts sank in deeper, the indignation settled deeper. But in the end, he decided to just let go and call it cultural adjustment.

Neville reached over and patted Grayson on the shoulder twice.

"I understand," Neville said solemnly.

Grayson’s eye twitched.

Neville withdrew his hand and gazed blankly into the distance.

Speaking of which—he had never actually figured out whether Grayson was a beastman or human.

So far, everyone he had encountered walked around in human form all the time. There was no visible indicator, no convenient tail sticking out or ears poking through anyone’s hair.

Being in human form must be the norm in here, he reasoned. He agreed with that since it was more convenient for daily life—offices weren’t exactly designed for tails and wings and whatever else beastmen had.

But it made him wonder if there were other mermaids on this planet, too, or even at work.

As he was in his thoughts, Sarah was already dying.

She had both hands clamped over her mouth. Her shoulders shook. Her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that tears were forming at the corners.

A sound escaped her, strangled and high-pitched, that she desperately tried to swallow back down.

Bryan had turned to the side; his lips were pressed together so hard they had gone white. His eyes were bright with the strain of suppressed laughter.

Iris was the most composed, but even she had brought one hand up to cover her mouth. Her dark violet bob swayed as her shoulders trembled with barely contained laughter.

But as the scene repeated in their minds.

Their laughter exploded out of them.

Sarah’s were loud, gasping, completely uncontrolled. She doubled over, forehead hitting her knees. The sound that came out of her was somewhere between a wheeze and a shriek.

Bryan crumbled next, a low, rumbling laugh breaking through. He leaned forward and pressed his fist against his mouth, but it was futile.

The laughter came in waves, each one louder than the last. At some point, he slapped his own thigh.

Iris managed to hold on for approximately three more seconds before she lost it. Her laugh was sharp and clear, like a bell. She covered her face with both hands as her shoulders heaved.

"His face—" Sarah wheezed between gasps, clutching Iris’s arm. "Did you see his face? AHAHAHA!"

Bryan made a sound that might have been an attempt to say something, but dissolved into another round of helpless laughter.

Grayson looked at them indifferently. But if one looked very carefully, one could see a vein pulsing steadily at his temple.

He did not laugh.

He did not speak.

He just watched silently.

"What—" Neville looked around them, innocently. Utterly lost and confused about why they were laughing. "What did I say?"

But this action only made it worse.

Sarah howled. Bryan actually wiped his eyes. Iris was making small, helpless sounds into her palms.

Neville looked at them in annoyance since no one was answering him. He looked at Grayson, looking for answers, but Grayson just turned his gaze away without answering.

Slightly pouting, he folded his hands, waited, and looked at the coastal view in the distance.

Whatever they were laughing at, they would still stop laughing eventually.