The morning after that disastrous night, Eurie awoke feeling as though she had been trampled by a horde of rampaging beasts. Every muscle ached, and her thoughts moved sluggishly, as if her mind were struggling to catch up with reality. Then, with sudden, horrifying clarity, she remembered, the fools of Tengetsu Street had mistaken her for a sexaroid of all things!
The very idea was absurd. She was no pleasure doll, she was a Modified Maiden, a warrior engineered for combat, not… that. Her enhancements were meant for slaying monsters, delivering justice, and solving problems, not catering to the baser impulses of hormone-driven simpletons. Yet here they were, their minds apparently incapable of processing anything beyond the most vulgar assumptions.
Between ragged breaths and involuntary, humiliating noises she couldn’t suppress, Eurie managed to choke out:
“I’m n-not a s-sexaroid, you fools! I’m a Modified Maiden! A monster hunter! Not—nngh—not some… sex doll!”
Did they listen? Of course not. Their collective intelligence seemed to rival that of inanimate objects. Just as one might begin to grasp the truth, another would arrive, eyes glazing over with the same misguided assumption—”Oh? A free pleasure unit?”—and the cycle of indignity would begin anew.
At this rate, Eurie was beginning to suspect that the greatest threat in Tengetsu Street wasn’t some ancient demon or rogue beast—it was the sheer, unrelenting stupidity of its residents. And worse yet… she was losing ground.
Would she ever convince them of her true purpose? Or was she doomed to remain trapped in this endless, mortifying misunderstanding?
