Flandre nodded thoughtfully after listening to Hong Meiling's explanation.
Hong Meiling looked down into her eyes and asked softly, "Do you remember how the people you saw in the Slums were dressed?"
That single question made Flandre realize everything in an instant.
The coats she had picked out were indeed magnificent in both fabric and craftsmanship, but they possessed one fatal flaw: they were far too bright and eye-catching. If Rope were an ordinary citizen living in the commercial sectors or a wealthy district, wearing those clothes wouldn't cause a single problem.
But Rope was a pickpocket who drifted through the gritty underbelly of the Slums and crowded market stalls every single day.
In her world, those gorgeous clothes wouldn't protect her—on the contrary, they would turn her into a walking target, drawing unwanted attention, suspicion, and violent envy. After all, in the depths of the Slums, dressing too well was a crime in itself.
Flandre had initially only considered buying something nice for her friend, completely forgetting that people in Rope's position often couldn't afford to wear anything that looked "too nice."
"Then what should we do..." Flandre looked up at Hong Meiling. Since Meiling had stopped her, she was bound to have a much better alternative in mind.
"Hmm... follow me!"
Hong Meiling led Flandre through a series of winding commercial lanes until they arrived in front of an unpretentious, low-profile storefront.
Flandre tilted her head and immediately recognized the sleek emblem above the entrance—Raythean.
Raythean Industries.
It was an international industrial conglomerate with an exceptionally broad business portfolio, dominating markets in electrical hardware, heavy mining machinery, personal protective gear, and high-tier defense weaponry. Their supply chains spanned across every corner of Terra, and their specialized retail hubs could be found in virtually every major Mobile City. It was, by all accounts, a titan of industry.
Of course, for a player of Arknights, the most famous figure associated with this corporate empire was naturally the youngest daughter of the Bronley family—one of the core ruling dynasties behind Raythean—Jessica Bronley, affectionately known by fans as the "Rich Cat."
That Feline, who in Flandre's remembered lore was constantly on the verge of tearing up from anxiety, was also one of Rhodes Island's legendary trio of "Rich Cats." Another member of that club was, naturally, Swire herself.
Flandre couldn't help but wonder if that Jessica girl was really as prone to crying in person as the stories made her out to be.
Ahem... Flandre is definitely not a little devil! She wasn't thinking about teasing the poor girl until she cried at all! Not even a little bit!
At the thought, the corners of Flandre's mouth curled into a subtle, playful smirk—only to be promptly tapped on the back of her head by Hong Meiling.
"Flandre, what's gotten into you? What are you standing there grinning like an idiot for?" Meiling eyed her suspiciously.
Flandre shook her head quickly. "Nothing! I just noticed that while a lot of stores in Lungmen use Victorian signage, at least they put up flashy billboards. This one doesn't even have a main banner."
Hearing her observation, Meiling glanced at the understated building facade. "You're right about that, but as the saying goes, 'true quality hides in plain sight.' When I walked past here earlier, I peeked inside. Although the exterior looks low-key, the gear they stock inside is top-tier."
Flandre held back a silent chuckle. Raythean Industries specialized in survival gear, tactical wear, and heavy industrial support equipment—of course the quality was top-tier! To be precise, as long as your wallet was thick enough, anything purchased from Raythean was built to military-grade standards.
Because their target clientele consisted of field operatives, dangerous environment workers, and mercenaries rather than fashion-conscious shoppers, their products strictly prioritized utility, durability, and functional concealment over flashy aesthetics.
Come to think of it, tactical survival wear from Raythean was actually the absolute best gift she could buy for Rope.
As the two stepped into the climate-controlled showroom, a broad-shouldered, muscular Feline clerk walked over with a professional smile.
"Welcome to Raythean Industries, ladies. Are you looking for mountain trekking gear, wilderness expedition suits, or long-distance travel equipment? We carry everything from multi-environment tactical tents to emergency survival kits."
The clerk didn't dismiss them simply because of their young appearance, nor did he make wild assumptions about their background. He simply assumed they were young travelers prepping for an outdoor camping trip and enthusiastically began pointing out various adventure setups.
Flandre glided over to a rack of durable, brownish-black camouflage outerwear. "Does this suit come in this specific size?"
She proceeded to recite the exact height and structural measurements Beatrice had sent over from Rope's LGD intake record.
"Ah, yes, we have that size in stock," the clerk checked his pad and nodded. "Though if you're purchasing this line, I strongly recommend getting the complete integrated set—including the reinforced trousers and all-terrain boots—so the environmental camouflage remains seamless. We also offer matching windproof hoods, modular backpacks, grip gloves, and tactical altimeter watches..."
In a flash, the clerk produced a neat catalog from a drawer, displaying a detailed schematic of the full tactical ensemble.
"Just the coat, trousers, boots, gloves, and the windproof hood... nothing else," Hong Meiling interjected smoothly from the side.
"So, a complete core apparel set. No problem at all," the clerk replied crisply. "However, could you double-check those measurement figures? Our sizing parameters are precise down to the millimeter. If the numbers are off, the mobility seals might feel uncomfortable during active movement."
Judging by the data, he could tell the two weren't buying for themselves, so he offered a polite reminder.
"No problem, those were measured just this morning," Flandre replied confidently.
"Understood. Will there be anything else for you today, ladies?" he asked, maintaining an impeccable sales posture.
"That's all!" Flandre and Meiling exchanged a glance; neither of them had any personal interest in wearing heavy industrial tactical gear.
"Then please follow me to the counter."
The clerk led them over to the register, rechecked the item codes against the inventory log, and finally stated the total price.
"Wh—Five thousand Lungmen dollars?!" Hong Meiling's eyes popped, her fur practically standing on end on the spot.
Having lived in Lungmen for a while now, Meiling had developed a solid grasp of local prices. Five thousand LGD credits was roughly equivalent to an average worker's full monthly salary! Spending that much on a single set of clothes felt outrageously steep no matter how you sliced it.
"Ma'am, please don't be discouraged by the figure—there is a very good reason for the price tag," the clerk explained calmly, completely unbothered by her reaction. "The materials utilized in our apparel are exceptionally solid. Take this outer weave, for example: it's cut-resistant and can easily withstand scrapes from standard blades or sharp debris. This set is rated for almost all harsh climates, balancing breathability with high-grade thermal insulation. When summer comes, you can simply detach the inner thermal liner, and it functions as a lightweight summer field jacket."
In truth, eight out of ten customers walking into a Raythean outlet for the first time winced at the price tags, so he was thoroughly accustomed to explaining the value proposition.
"We'll take it!"
Just as Meiling was rolling up her sleeves to begin a heavy bargaining session, Flandre spoke up decisively. She pulled out her sleek gold bank card and tapped it onto the counter. "Charge it!"
"Right away, ma'am! One moment please." Seeing Flandre's effortless, wealthy posture, the clerk accepted the card with both hands and immediately went to process the transaction.
"Sigh... so expensive," Meiling muttered, her teeth aching slightly at the cost. "Are we really not going to shop around a bit more?"
"No need! Raythean's quality is definitely worth the price tag," Flandre replied with a bright, mischievous grin. "And if it turns out it's not worth it, we can just find someone from the Bronley family and get a refund later!"