I'm a smell doctor.
Instead of treating colds and fevers, we only treat "smell allergies" - some people want to kill people when they smell roses, some people laugh uncontrollably when they smell gasoline, and some people are so scared that they want to scrape off their skin when they smell their own sweat.
I can enter the patient's odor memory, trace the source of the trauma, and unlock the truth sealed in the odor.
Until I met a girl named Su Wan. She was afraid of the smell of her own sweat. I traced the origin and discovered that she was not afraid of the smell of sweat—she was afraid of herself. Because she is a clone, and the last smell her "body" smelled before dying was her own sweat.
What makes me even more devastated is that in my own scent file, there is a bottle that has never been opened, with two words written on it: body.
Who I am? Where is my "body"?
When I started to ask for the truth, I discovered: There is a kind of fear in this world that does not come from trauma, but from the fact that you should not exist at all.
