The salesman raised a single eyebrow upon hearing Flandre's remark.
As an employee of Raythean Industries, he naturally understood the immense weight behind the Bronley name. However, not for a single second did he believe that the two young women standing before him actually had personal connections to anyone in that ruling family. Even the regional corporate directors assigned to Great Yan rarely enjoyed the privilege of directly meeting such high-level executives.
For a little girl to casually claim that visiting them was akin to dropping by a neighbor's house sounded like pure youthful bravado. He simply assumed she had caught wind of the corporate name somewhere and was trying to show off in front of her companion.
With the heavy tactical bundle secured, Flandre and Hong Meiling stepped out of the showroom.
"Are we heading straight down to the Lungmen Guard Department now to deliver these clothes to Rope?" Meiling asked as they strolled along the bustling pavement, carrying the shopping bag in one hand while gently holding Flandre's small hand with the other.
"No, no, no... let's head home first!"
Under Meiling's questioning gaze, Flandre led the way back toward the residential villa.
Once inside, she summoned the two estate maids, and together they set to work unpicking the discrete Raythean Industries brand labels stitched into the fabric. Even though Flandre had deliberately selected the model with the most subdued branding, safety demanded absolute caution.
"What's the reasoning behind this?" Meiling asked, carefully using a sharp needle and thread to sever the anchor stitches on the collar tag.
"Sister Meiling, didn't you say yourself that if she wears something too high-end, it might bring trouble if she's caught? Even though these emblems are tiny, someone in the underworld might recognize them. It's much safer to erase all the Raythean markings entirely and replace them with a brand-new insignia... What do you think? Should we use the Reunion Movement emblem, or maybe the shape of my sister's wings and mine?" Flandre explained while working the thread loose with nimble fingers.
"Hmm... let's go with the latter," Meiling deliberated for a moment. "After all, the Reunion Movement is still classified as an active insurgent organization in many regions. If someone mistakenly links Rope to the Infected liberation faction out of Ursus, it could draw even greater heat."
Furthermore, Meiling felt that a wing motif would serve as a subtle, elegant marker of origin—if they ever crossed paths with Rope down the line, they would instantly recognize the garments.
"Mhm, mhm! Then let's use my wing design!" Flandre beamed brightly, turning to explain the precise geometric layout to the two maids assisting them.
"Understood, young miss!" The maids were remarkably clever and dexterous.
It took them less than an hour to skillfully replace the original manufacturer tags with a clean, custom embroidery shaped like Flandre's signature wings.
As fate would have it, this meticulous modification would end up playing a crucial role in protecting Rope during a future detention.
When an inspector eventually searched Rope and discovered the professional-grade tactical gear, he initially suspected she was hiding stolen assets, assuming anyone wearing Raythean equipment must be secretly wealthy. However, upon inspecting the inner seams, he found no trace of the familiar Raythean seal—only an unfamiliar, stylized wing pattern.
He immediately dismissed his initial theory, concluding that the suit was merely a clever knockoff produced by some nameless underground workshop mimicking high-end brands. While visually convincing, a counterfeit carried negligible market value compared to authentic gear.
As for reporting the copyright infringement to Raythean? Corporate headquarters wasn't based in Yan, meaning local enforcement offered little protection for foreign industrial patents, and cracking down on regional piracy was notoriously difficult. Consequently, the investigator dropped the matter entirely.
Returning to the present moment, once the clothing modifications were complete, Flandre's thoughts drifted back to the enchanted gold chain she had previously prepared for Swire.
Sensing she still had spare raw materials left over in her crafting corner, she decided to use them to run a few practical tests.
Flandre applied distinct, specialized Enchantments across the various modular components of the tactical suit:
Jacket and Trousers: After careful calculation, she wove in Constant Temperature and Self-Repair. Given Rope's demanding environment and "line of work," her clothes were frequently snagged or torn. These two arrays would not only drastically extend the lifespan of the garments but also protect her friend from sudden, dangerous drops in body temperature during extreme weather shifts.
Boots: She inscribed Lightweight and Movement Speed Boost. The former reduced the heavy combat boots to one-third of their baseline weight, while the latter granted a subtle ten-percent acceleration to the wearer's stride, making field getaways considerably safer.
Gloves: The selected properties were Dust-Proof and Lightning Reflexes. The former ensured the fabric remained immaculate regardless of grime or mud, while the latter quickened manual dexterity and finger response times.
Headgear (Windproof Hood): This was the most critical piece. Flandre embedded two high-tier arrays: Sharp Thinking and Slow Healing. Slipping on the hood would accelerate neural processing and cognitive reaction speeds, while simultaneously maintaining a continuous, stable regenerative field.
The healing intensity roughly mirrored slicing a clean ten-centimeter wound two centimeters deep into your hand, applying a steady pressure bandage, and watching it scab over within twenty-four hours before closing entirely in three days. While it couldn't match the instant, miraculous recovery of Eirin Yagokoro's legendary pharmaceuticals, it was more than enough to keep Rope safe from lingering injuries and chronic infections.
Stepping back, Flandre surveyed her finished masterpiece with immense satisfaction.
"Flandre, your mastery over Enchantment theory has reached an impressive level. You're practically ready to graduate from basic tutelage," Patchouli's calm voice suddenly broke the silence from the corner of the room.
Flandre turned to see the scholar materialize gracefully nearby, a look of genuine approval shining in her violet eyes.
Patchouli had slipped into the room just as the enchantment process began. Initially, she had assumed Flandre's progress was largely confined to abstract classroom theory and that the lack of hands-on repetition would cause clumsy mistakes. To her pleasant surprise, although the pacing was deliberate and cautious, the little vampire had executed the complex matrix alignments flawlessly.
With a master's discerning eye, Patchouli judged that Flandre's practical work easily merited a score of eighty points or higher.
"Patchy! When did you get back?!" Flandre squealed with delight, darting across the room to bury herself happily in Patchouli's arms.
"I never left..." Patchouli gently reached out and pinched Flandre's flushed cheek, a soft, fond smile tugging at her lips. She then glanced down at the tactical bundle. "Is this the gift you prepared for Miss Rope?"
Flandre nodded proudly, puffing out her chest. "Mhm! What do you think, Patchy?"
Patchouli rested a warm hand on Flandre's head, her voice softening. "Little Flandre really has grown up. You chose the items with remarkable thoughtfulness—practical enough to provide real protection without appearing ostentatiously expensive."
"Not expensive? That set cost five thousand Lungmen dollars! Five thousand!" Hong Meiling chimed in from the doorway, her eyes twitching at the memory of the bill.
"Five thousand is five thousand," Patchouli replied coolly, entirely unbothered. "As long as Flandre is happy with it, the price is irrelevant."
After all, to residents of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, mortal currency was nothing more than passing clouds—and earning more was never a challenge.