Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 621: We're So Screwed
Without hesitation, Steven grabbed Irene—who was still frozen in shock over the disappearance of her scars—and pushed her into a nearby fitting room.
Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
Pulling up his minimap once more, he double-checked the identity of the girl browsing clothes outside.
It really was the little white horse he'd spent the entire night hanging out with.
Wasn't she supposed to be sleeping soundly at home right now, recovering and putting on some healthy weight? Why had she suddenly come out?
Hadn't she said she disliked crowded places?
With the festivities just around the corner, what exactly was she doing here?
"Sir, while we don't mind gentlemen helping customers choose clothes, could you please be a little more restrained? This is a public place."
Just as Steven was pondering Centaurea's unexpected appearance, a store clerk peeked her head into the fitting room.
After confirming that Steven wasn't doing anything inappropriate with Irene, she lowered her voice and gave him a cautious reminder.
Young couples seeking excitement in public places were hardly uncommon these days, but this was still a clothing store. She couldn't simply ignore suspicious behavior.
The clerk's interruption didn't attract Centaurea's attention.
It did, however, snap Irene out of her daze.
Only then did she realize Steven had dragged her into a tiny fitting room.
Her face instantly turned bright red.
With all the force she could muster, she punched him in the chest.
"What are you trying to do?! Just because you helped remove my scars doesn't mean I'll agree to anything outrageous! Don't get any funny ideas!"
She didn't know exactly what Steven was planning, but judging from the clerk's embarrassed expression, she could make a pretty good guess.
Steven didn't seem like the type to lose control so easily...
But who could guarantee he would stay rational all the time?
"I was just thinking that since you're taking forever to decide, it'd be easier if you simply wore whatever I picked out. Saves you the trouble of overthinking it."
"And besides, didn't we already agree? What you wear today isn't really up to you."
Releasing Irene from his arms, Steven naturally had no intention of doing anything inappropriate in broad daylight.
Quickly coming up with an excuse, he pressed Irene gently back into place and headed for the fitting room door.
"Wait here. I'll bring you some clothes that suit you."
After giving her a reason to stay put, Steven slipped quietly out of the fitting room and made his way toward Centaurea.
Sneaking away without her noticing wouldn't have been difficult.
Doing so while bringing Irene along—and somehow convincing her to cooperate—was another matter entirely.
Trying to explain that situation afterward would be far more troublesome.
In that case, it was easier to simply let Centaurea discover he was here.
As he approached, Steven finally noticed what the little white horse was examining so intently.
It was the exact outfit that had caught his eye the moment he entered the store.
A dark-themed little devil costume.
The ultra-short skirt and mischievous design gave it a distinctly provocative charm.
Holding her chin thoughtfully, Centaurea compared the outfit against herself, completely oblivious to Steven's presence behind her.
Naturally, Steven seized the opportunity.
He casually picked out several cute office-lady-style short skirts—the same ones Irene had been staring at the longest earlier—and carried them back to her fitting room.
After delivering the clothes and firmly instructing Irene to choose whichever suited her best before calling him in for a second opinion, he stepped back outside.
By then, Centaurea had already taken the dark little-devil outfit off the rack and was heading toward the fitting rooms herself.
"Hm?"
One stepping out, the other stepping in.
The two met face-to-face.
Their gazes collided.
Letting out a puzzled sound, Centaurea slowly swept her eyes up and down Steven's body, inspecting him with a distinctly investigative look.
"I think you owe me an explanation."
Tilting her head slightly, Centaurea fixed Steven with a calm stare.
"Specifically, an explanation for why a grown man is hanging around a place like this."
She paused.
"Don't tell me your curiosity has reached the point where you're exploring women's fitting rooms now?"
As expected of someone who had spent so much time with Steven—and had gradually begun to adopt some of his way of thinking—Centaurea accepted his presence here almost instantly.
Rather than questioning why he was here, her mind had already moved on to helping him come up with an excuse.
Steven offered a somewhat awkward smile.
"What if I said I was looking for some equipment for tonight's sparring session?"
He pointed toward the dazzling display of stockings beside her.
There were stockings of every imaginable color, along with fishnets and all sorts of unusually designed hosiery that leaned heavily toward novelty and fashion.
"You know, experimenting with different colors and... sensations."
"Mm."
Centaurea nodded thoughtfully.
"That does sound like something you'd do."
Then she added:
"But I don't think that's the whole story."
Her eyes drifted toward the fitting room behind Steven.
"I even thought that since I couldn't come shopping with you today, I'd have to make it up to you tonight."
She let out a small sigh.
"But it looks like you've already found yourself a date."
The moment Steven subconsciously shifted to block her view of the fitting room, Centaurea had already figured out exactly why he was here.
For all his brilliance, this seemed to be the one area where Steven could never achieve perfection.
A more experienced womanizer wouldn't have reacted so obviously.
"That's not—"
Steven started to argue before stopping halfway.
Looking at the expression on her face—the unmistakable look of someone patiently waiting for him to continue digging his own grave—he finally gave up.
Shrugging helplessly, he admitted defeat.
"...Fine. It's exactly what you think."
Since there was no hiding it anymore, there was little point in trying.
He really wasn't good at this sort of thing.
"Well, at least you're honest."
Centaurea narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Maybe I shouldn't be angry."
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Maybe I should reward you instead."
Steven immediately felt a chill run down his spine.
Seeing him wear such a rare expression of defeat was surprisingly satisfying.
After all, this was the same man who seemed capable of anything.
The same knight who could practically challenge all of Kazimierz by himself.
Yet here he was, completely cornered.
"Come on, that's not fair."
Steven stuck out his tongue.
"Besides, I did ask you first. You're the one who said you didn't like crowded places, so you didn't come."
"Oh?"
Centaurea nodded slowly.
"So it's my fault, then."
"No, that's not what I mea—"
Before Steven could finish his sentence, the fitting room door behind him suddenly swung open.
"What do you think of this outfit?"
Irene peeked out from inside.
She had changed into an exquisitely tailored JK-style schoolgirl outfit, and her sudden appearance instantly interrupted the private conversation.
"..."
The atmosphere froze.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to stop.
Steven considered himself thick-skinned enough that even Młynar activating his Arts probably wouldn't break his composure.
Yet at this exact moment, he sincerely wished he could find a hole in the ground and bury himself.
At first, Irene didn't understand why Steven was standing outside talking to an unfamiliar Kuranta girl.
But then she noticed the outfit in Centaurea's hands.
The very same outfit Steven had pointed out earlier.
And suddenly, everything else felt irrelevant.
Her small hands clenched into fists.
Before she could even ask who this mysterious girl was, Centaurea struck first.
"His fashion sense is terrible."
The smile on her face remained gentle.
The words, however, were anything but.
"He'll call anything he likes 'cute.'"
She glanced Irene up and down with a practiced eye.
"But personally, I don't think that style suits you."
"Hm?"
"How should I put it..."
Centaurea rested a finger against her chin.
"It lacks a certain innocence."
"I think you'd look better in something with a more androgynous style."
She paused briefly before adding:
"Or perhaps something more mature."
"A stronger contrast might suit you better."
Then, with a perfectly pleasant smile, she delivered the finishing blow.
"And it would probably be more to his taste as well."
The moment those words left her mouth, the tiny clothing store became saturated with enough tension to rival a battlefield.
The smell of gunpowder practically filled the air.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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Tn: I updated the story daily, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 689: Impossible to Refute[1]
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/arknightcraft-169789182?collection=55713
[2] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/arknightcraft-169789182?collection=55713