The morning air of the lower district was thick with the scent of ozone and cheap street food, a familiar mix that usually grounded Ren before a long day at the guild. Today, however, all he could smell was vanilla and strawberries.
He pulled the collar of his faded, heavy canvas jacket up to his chin, keeping his head ducked low as he navigated the crowded sidewalks. The jacket was far too warm for the mild weather, but it was the only piece of clothing he owned that sufficiently hid the smooth, unnaturally soft skin of his neck and jawline. Every time the fabric brushed against his cheek, it served as a humiliating reminder of what he had done in the bathroom an hour ago.
Just keep your head down. Get to the guild. Cash out the credits. Pay for Sierra's books.
He repeated the mantra like a prayer, weaving through the morning commuters and the rusted-out delivery drones. The National Hunter Association branch was only three blocks away now. He was almost safe.
"Hey! Ren! Hold up!"
Ren froze. He knew that voice. He had known that voice since they were both seven years old, scraping their knees in the cramped alleyways of the district. It was a voice that possessed an uncanny ability to ferret out every secret he had ever tried to keep.
He turned slowly, forcing a rigid, unconvincing smile. "Hey, Bonnie."
Bonnie jogged to catch up with him, her bright orange combat boots splashing carelessly through a puddle of questionable grey water. Unlike Ren, she wore her hunter status with pride. She was a solid C-rank Vanguard, clad in pristine, reinforced poly-weave armor that actually fit her athletic frame. Her dark hair was pulled back into a practical, messy bun, and her hazel eyes were already scanning him up and down with terrifying efficiency.
"I thought I missed you," she said, falling into step beside him and immediately invading his personal space. "I swung by your place, but Sierra said you bolted early. You didn't even wait for breakfast. What's the rush?"
"Just... eager to get to the guild," Ren lied, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and stepped half a pace away from her. "Need to check the low-level boards before all the decent scavenging runs are snatched up."
Bonnie narrowed her eyes, leaning in closer. Ren stiffened, instinctively pulling his collar higher.
"You're acting weird," she declared, her tone dropping into the authoritative register she usually reserved for barking orders in a dungeon. "And why are you wearing your winter jacket? It's twenty degrees out here. You're sweating."
"I have a chill," Ren said quickly. "Might be coming down with a fever. Dungeon dampness, you know?"
"A fever?" Bonnie reached out before he could stop her, her calloused hand pressing firmly against his forehead.
Ren flinched, but it was too late. Her hand lingered for a fraction of a second longer than normal. Her brow furrowed in utter confusion.
"Ren... your forehead isn't hot." She pulled her hand back, looking at her palm and then back at his face. "But... why is it so soft? Did you use a healing potion?"
"No!" Ren blurted out, panic flaring in his chest. "No, just... drinking a lot of water. Hydration is key."
"Hydration doesn't make you feel like a damn silk pillow," Bonnie muttered, stepping directly in front of him and forcing him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. She crossed her arms, her eyes darting across his face with forensic intensity.
Ren felt the blood rush to his cheeks, an involuntary blush that only made the strawberry-scented disaster worse. The system's 'Charm' stat upgrade hadn't just cleared his skin; it had given him a faint, healthy glow that practically radiated through the grime of the lower district. His eyelashes fluttered nervously, casting long, delicate shadows over his eyes—another subtle change he hadn't fully processed until Bonnie was staring right at them.
"Are you wearing makeup?" she asked, her voice hushed, caught somewhere between concern and profound amusement.
"What? No! Are you crazy? Why would I be wearing makeup?"
"I don't know, Ren, why are your eyelashes longer than mine?" Bonnie shot back, leaning in until they were inches apart. She took a sudden, deep breath through her nose.
Ren stopped breathing.
Bonnie's eyes widened. She took another sniff, sniffing the collar of his heavy jacket. "Is that... are you wearing perfume? You smell like a bakery. Like... strawberries and vanilla."
"It's industrial soap!" Ren said, his voice pitching up an octave. "From the warehouse! Dad brought it home. It's supposed to cut through monster grease, but they add a masking agent so it doesn't smell like chemicals! It's very manly, highly corrosive stuff!"
Bonnie stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Industrial soap. That smells like a teenage girl's body wash."
"Exactly. To trick the monsters."
"Trick the monsters," she repeated flatly.
"Yes. Olfactory camouflage. Lower-tier beasts are confused by sweet scents." Ren was babbling now, his brain desperately scrambling for any plausible excuse. "Anyway, I really need to get to the guild, so if you'll excuse me—"
He tried to step around her, but Bonnie grabbed his arm. Her grip was tight, but not painful. The teasing amusement had faded from her eyes, replaced by a genuine, quiet concern that made Ren feel even more guilty.
"Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay? Seriously. You barely survived that trap yesterday. Jenna told me you fell into a lower crevice and nearly got crushed when the boss room destabilized. You don't have to pretend everything is fine if you're rattled."
Ren looked away, the guilt twisting in his gut. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell his oldest friend that he hadn't hidden in a crevice. That he had transformed into a lethal, terrifying succubus named Carmine, slaughtered the boss single-handedly, and was now being blackmailed by a glowing blue interface into doing a daily skincare routine.
But he couldn't. Not just because it was humiliating, but because it was dangerous. If anyone found out he possessed a taboo, shape-shifting system that absorbed life force, he wouldn't just be a laughingstock—he would be a target. The high guilds would dissect him. The Hunter Association would brand him a monster.
"I'm fine, Bon," he said softly, offering a more genuine, albeit tired, smile. "Just shaken up. And maybe my skin is just reacting weirdly to the mana exposure from the trap."
Bonnie studied him for a long moment before letting out a sharp sigh. She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Alright. But if you start showing up to raids in high heels for 'tactical advantage', we're having an intervention."
Ren laughed weakly, though his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. If she only knew.
They continued the rest of the walk to the guild in relative peace, though Ren caught Bonnie casting sidelong glances at him every few minutes, her nose twitching whenever the wind blew in her direction.
The Hunter Association branch was a massive, brutalist concrete structure that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding slums. Inside, the grand lobby was a chaotic swarm of armed mercenaries, glowing holographic quest boards, and the constant hum of tense negotiations.
Ren pulled his collar down just enough to breathe properly and made a beeline for the automated teller kiosks lining the far wall. Bonnie shadowed him, leaning against the adjacent terminal.
"You're grabbing a solo scavenging ticket today?" she asked, punching in her own credentials to check the C-rank party listings.
"Something like that," Ren muttered.
He swiped his cheap plastic ID card through the reader. The screen flickered, displaying his pathetic E-rank hunter profile. He glanced nervously at Bonnie, making sure she was distracted by her own screen, before he mentally opened his system interface.
[SYSTEM MENU ACCESSED]
He navigated to the obscure sub-menu he had found the night before: the Currency Exchange.
[CURRENT SYSTEM GOLD: 550]
[EXCHANGE RATE: 1 GOLD = 10 HUNTER CREDITS]
[INPUT AMOUNT TO TRANSFER TO REGISTERED ACCOUNT]
Ren typed in '500'.
[TRANSFERRING...] [5000 HUNTER CREDITS DEPOSITED.]
His heart leaped into his throat. He quickly checked his official hunter bank balance on the kiosk screen. Where there had once been a pitiful 42 credits, the number 5,042 now glowed in bright, undeniable green.
It worked. It actually worked. He let out a shaky breath, feeling a profound, crushing weight lift off his shoulders. He could pay for Sierra's books today. He could pay the electricity bill.
Suddenly, a familiar blue box materialised directly over the kiosk screen, blocking his view of his new wealth.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[HOST HAS SUCCESSFULLY UTILISED SYSTEM FUNDS. THE SYSTEM HOPES THIS DEMONSTRATES THE IMMENSE VALUE OF OBEDIENCE AND BEAUTY.]
Ren scowled, wishing he could punch the floating text.
The box flickered, and a new message appeared.
[QUEST AVAILABLE: A LADY'S FOUNDATION]
[A true succubus understands that beauty requires a proper foundation, both inside and out. The host's current undergarments are crude, unsupportive, and lack any aesthetic appeal.]
[TASK: Purchase one (1) set of feminine undergarments (matching set required). The host must wear this set beneath his standard clothing for the duration of his next dungeon raid.]
[REWARD: 250 EXP, +2 Agility, 100 Gold.]
[FAILURE PENALTY: -20% Agility, System lock on all Hunter Credit withdrawals for 72 hours.]
Ren stared at the floating text, his blood turning to ice.
Undergarments? Under my clothes? In a dungeon?
He gripped the edges of the kiosk console so hard his knuckles popped. The system was escalating. It wasn't just making him do things in the privacy of his own bathroom anymore. It was forcing him to carry the humiliation out into the real world, into a life-or-death combat zone where one wrong move could tear his clothes and expose his secret to everyone.
And the penalty... a twenty percent hit to his agility, plus locking his funds. He had just gotten a taste of financial security, and the system was immediately using it as a leash.
"Hey, earth to Ren," Bonnie said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. She peered over his shoulder at his blank kiosk screen, thankfully unable to see the glowing blue system prompt hovering there. "You look like you just saw a ghost. You good?"
Ren swallowed hard, dismissing the prompt with a trembling swipe of his hand.
"Yeah," he choked out, his voice sounding hollow and distant. "Just... checking my balance. I need to go run an errand before I sign up for a raid."
"An errand? What kind of errand?"
"I have to buy... supplies."
Bonnie raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "More strawberry soap?"
"Something like that," Ren whispered, his stomach twisting into a sickening knot as he turned away from the kiosk.
He had to go shopping.