* * *

We made our way to the Solet Memorial Hall, which was within walking distance from the alley.

Rainwater trickled over uneven cobblestones, forming ripples in the puddles.

The air was thick with the scent of rain.

A puppy festival. I hadn’t heard of it in my past life, so I had no idea what to expect.

“What do they do at the puppy festival?”

“They sell treats and toys. Lots of families bring their puppies to visit. They also sell puppy-themed souvenirs. Next month, there’s a cat festival, and the month after that, it’s a combined animal festival.”

A place selling snacks, toys, and other pet-related items… So it was a dog fair after all.

I was slightly curious about the cat festivals and integrated animal events, too.

I don’t particularly like animals, but since we’re here, I thought I’d check it out.

But can raccoons even eat dog treats?

“Bell, which family do raccoons belong to?”

“They’re in the canid family.”

“Oh. Foxes too?”

“Yes, probably.”

Luckily, this world also had zoologists, and their classification of species, genera, and orders seemed pretty much identical to what I was familiar with.

I decided to pick up some toys and snacks on the way back.

Thankfully, I had brought money.

Once the rainy season ends and they’re back in the greenhouse, I’ll sneak the items in and pretend someone else left them.

The Solette Memorial wasn’t far from the back alley, and the drizzle lightened as we walked, so I managed to arrive in relatively good shape without needing magic.

Despite the pouring rain, the massive memorial was bustling with people accompanied by dogs.

Everywhere I turned, there were adorable dogs showing off their charm.

My eyes darted all over.

Ugh, I’m not a fan of shedding animals.

“Whoa, look at that! That’s fur from last year’s Softest Dog Fur Contest champion!”

“…”
I turned to Bell with an expression of disbelief.

She was pointing at a cushion that looked as if it had been made from a piece of the dog itself, its fluffy fur eerily lifelike.

How on earth did they get fur from the Softest Dog Fur Contest champion?

“Magic is amazing. They can even create things like that.”

What?

A magically preserved fur cushion?!

Horrified, I stared at it while Bell clasped her hands together in delight.

“They say it feels exactly like the champion’s fur. Oh, look! There’s the dog! It’s barking at its own fur!”

…Thank goodness.

It wasn’t what I thought.

The cushion seemed to be magically created.

What was I even thinking?

Next to the line of people waiting to touch the fur cushion, a small dog with identical fur was barking furiously.

It seemed displeased with its replica.

The little dog bared its rice-sized teeth, growling menacingly.

We joined the line to feel the cushion.

Since people were only brushing it a few times and moving on, the line moved quickly.

Despite being touched by countless hands, the magically sustained fur cushion remained as fluffy as a freshly bathed dog.

Running my hand over it, I had to admit—it was worthy of winning the Softest Dog Fur Contest.

It was impossibly soft.

As Bell stroked the cushion, I glanced at the original champion.

The dog, suddenly cheerful, had tucked away its teeth and was wagging its tail, smiling brightly.

The man, presumably its owner, stared at his dog in confusion.

“Why is it suddenly in such a good mood?”

Without thinking, I stepped closer.

The dog wriggled out of its owner’s arms, eager to come to me.

“Um, could you hold him just once? He’s incredibly stubborn. If you don’t, he’ll sulk all day.”

“Ah.”

Do I really have to?

But then again, there’s no reason not to.

As I extended my arms, the dog practically launched itself at me, snuggling in and licking my face and lips under my robe.

“Haha, this is strange. He usually avoids strangers, but now he’s acting like this again.”

He doesn’t seem to avoid strangers at all.

If anything, it seems like the opposite.

Are you sure you’re interpreting your dog correctly?

Awkwardly, I patted its sides, belly, head, nape, and bottom before handing it back to its owner.

The dog whimpered in protest, clearly dissatisfied that our time was over.

I deliberately avoided looking at it.

“Bell, let’s go now that we’ve seen everything.”

“Yes! Wow, Yuri, you got to hold that dog! I’m so jealous.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

“How was its fur? The same as the cushion?”

“Yeah. Exactly the same.”

It really was.

The only difference was that the dog was warm and softer.

I briefly considered how the cushion would feel if it were warm and squishy too, but that idea seemed unsettling, so I let it go.

The massive hall was filled with things to see.

There were hundreds of handmade snacks and types of pet food, and the variety of toys was overwhelming.

People carrying dogs under their arms, on their backs, or in tiny cushioned carts were frantically grabbing items left and right.

I joined the fray and picked up a few bags of treats, planning to sneak them to the animals later.

I got some meat treats for the raccoon and fox, as well as dried vegetables that even the rabbit could eat.

After wandering around for a while, the pockets of my robe were noticeably full.

Since I wasn’t particularly into animals, it made sense that I’d never been to a festival like this.

But if I’d known about it in my previous life, I might’ve visited once.

While stuffing a bag of dried Brussels sprouts into the remaining space in my pocket, Bell tugged at me.

“They’ve got a dog playground over there. Let’s go!”

“We don’t even have a dog.”

“Most people here are just watching the dogs play.”

A quick glance confirmed that he was probably right.

As we were about to head over, a loud gasp erupted, followed by a swarm of dogs rushing toward something—or someone.

They pounced on a person who seemed fairly tall and well-built, but under the sheer number of dogs, he stumbled and fell backward.

What was going on?

Did the person smear themselves in sweet potatoes or something?

Dogs love sweet potatoes.

“What’s happening?”

Curious, Bell dragged me closer.

The dogs were acting as if they’d discovered buried treasure, wagging their tails furiously.

Maybe it wasn’t a person but a human-shaped sweet potato?

But my guess was wrong.

Amid the crowd of dogs, a hand emerged.

No sweet potato residue.

“Who is that? Do they own all those dogs?”

That didn’t seem likely.

Families were frantically calling their dogs’ names, trying to pull them away.

But the dogs, as if they’d unearthed a hidden fish during a walk, stubbornly stayed put, sniffing the fallen person.

Who in the world is that?

My curiosity peaked, and I frowned slightly.

Soon, I got my answer—though not in the way I wanted.

“Ah, Yuri!”

Bell’s alarmed voice reached me just as I felt warmth against my ankle.

Before I could react, another pack of dogs rushed at me, their fluffy bodies knocking me over.

I toppled forward, perilously close to the already fallen person.

‘Great, just my luck.’

Thanks to a sudden turn of events, I ended up being the strange guy who hurled himself over someone else.

A few startled puppies leaped to the side as obstacles toppled from above.

And just like that, I found myself sprawled on top of someone, only for the puppies to pile on us again.

Their excited panting, whining, and wagging tails added to the chaos, leaving me utterly dazed.

“Ugh…”

In the fall, my robe’s hood slipped back slightly.

Forget about apologies for now—I just wanted to fix my hood.

But before I could, the person beneath me casually brushed aside a medium-sized dog that had been licking their face.

“…”

Our eyes locked.

Is this even possible?

The furrowed expression on his face gradually eased, his eyes widening in recognition.

For a moment, I forgot about the dogs bouncing around and licking me.

The crimson eyes fixed intently on me belonged to none other than Ateol.

* * *