When I visited Room 503 of the apartment complex, I was told that Michael was in Room 603. I went there and received what looked like a credit card from Michael, along with my next set of instructions.
Apparently, if I went to a shop called Dick Sakura in front of the station, bought something, and showed this card at the checkout, I would be able to reach the exam site. I immediately headed toward the shop.
Being a shop located right in front of the station, it had a rather sophisticated atmosphere. It carried a wide selection of fashion-related items, including clothes, accessories, bags, and shoes. I'm not usually familiar with these kinds of shops, but even I could tell this wasn't the sort of place someone in a track suit should step into.
Looking at the price tag of a nearby piece of clothing, a single T-shirt was priced at 15,000 Jenny. Seeing things like this makes me realize how truly difficult human values are to understand. Well, I was only told to buy something, so I should just pick anything and head to the register.
"Welcome, are you looking for something?"
While I was looking at the shelves, thinking a hair clip might at least be practical, a female shop clerk approached and spoke to me. Since I hadn't come here to enjoy shopping, I gave her a "no thank you" gesture.
"With your black hair, this one would—"
However, the clerk didn't seem to care at all and began introducing products. She launched into a fashion lecture so detailed I wondered how there could be so much to say about a single hair clip, all while actually holding products up to my hair in front of a mirror and recommending one after another.
"Oh? This stain is..."
There, the clerk noticed a thick black smudge on her hand after touching Six's hair. It was the black hair dye used to keep the silver hair from standing out. Since the pigment didn't soak into the hair, the dye was just sitting on the surface. I had completely forgotten about it.
"...Please wait a moment."
The clerk said that and retreated to the back of the shop. She didn't run, and she didn't even make a sound or a breeze, yet her speed was considerable. I even wondered how she could move like that.
Thinking about it, entering such a high-end fashion shop with greasy hair might have been bad common sense. In fact, several hair clips had been stained by the dye. I worried she might be angry, but then again, she was the one who had recommended the products without permission. As I was agonizing over this, the clerk returned.
"Pardon me."
As soon as she returned, she took a spray from the items she was carrying and began spraying it onto Six's hair. The loosened dirt was wiped away with a towel. The speed was such that there wasn't even time to voice a protest.
Using several different types of sprays, she not only removed the stains but also combed through every single tangled strand and even used a hairdryer to set the style. All of this happened in about a minute.
"What a beautiful hair color... despite being in such a terrible state of maintenance, it hasn't lost its freshness and retains its luster right down to the tips. A natural beauty like light reflecting off water droplets, a color and texture that could never be reproduced by artificial means... Hehe, hehehehe..."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. This woman is clearly abnormal. Could she be a Nen user? As far as I could see, her aura flow seemed to be that of an ordinary person, but there was a possibility she was faking it. I immediately moved away from the clerk.
"Ah!? Please wait! To wear such heartless clothing while possessing such materials! A track suit! It's an act of barbarism, like grilling a diamond over industrial waste oil! Please, please let me handle the coordination!"
There was no need to deal with this any further. I'd just grab any product nearby and go to the register. That's what I thought, but then I remembered the last words the young man who served as our guide had said.
'Press the intercom for Room 503 and ask, "Is this Mr. Michael's residence?" After that, just follow the instructions and you'll reach the venue.'
'Just follow the instructions and you'll reach the venue.'
Following the guide's instructions, I met the man named Michael and ended up at this shop. And then, I met this abnormal shop clerk. This clerk must surely be one of the Hunter Association's people, just like the guide and Michael.
In other words, I was still in the middle of being tested. If I didn't act as the clerk said here, I might not be guided to the exam venue. I can't believe they'd set a trap like this. It must mean I shouldn't let my guard down until I enter the venue.
No, it's quite possible that even more difficult challenges would be presented during the actual exam. Since I can use Nen, it's dangerous to have the easy assumption that I'll be able to pass without much trouble. I spoke to the clerk, who was crying and collapsing.
"Do as you like."
In that instant, the clerk, who had rebooted with a mysterious "whir-clack" sound effect, silently took my hand and led me straight to the fitting area. Immediately after the curtain was closed, the clerk began stripping Six's clothes while making a groan like a predator.
"Hyaa! I can't take it! It's dress-up time!"
Six was stripped naked at high speed. I couldn't completely shake the doubt about whether this was really the right choice.
"...I wonder if this was truly the best choice. No, to maximize the fantastical charm of a young lady who looks as though she stepped out of a fairy tale, this is the best. I feel like I might have gone a bit too far, but looking at it now, it was a completely needless worry. The sense of incongruity peculiar to this kind of fashion... it's surprisingly not 'cringeworthy' at all. It's as complete as a single painting. As expected of a young lady."
I was made to try on dozens of outfits. The track suit I had been wearing had been taken away somewhere before I knew it. I hadn't been wearing underwear like panties under the track suit (I didn't feel the need for them), but for some reason, the clerk, who had been infuriated by that fact, had procured women's underwear from somewhere and made me wear them.
At first, they were clothes that could be called decent even by my standards, but they gradually became incomprehensible, gaudy outfits, and finally arrived at what the clerk called 'Lolita fashion.' In short, it was an outfit like an anime character's cosplay.
"Lolita is a street fashion born from an unquenchable longing for the existence of a girl. It is innocent, like an undefiled infant, yet simultaneously contains a charm that deludes the opposite sex. An innocent simplicity like a dog, a mischievous freedom like a cat, and a graceful elegance like a bird—characteristics that one wouldn't normally associate with sexuality unconsciously stir up perverted desires in those around them. A girl who can embody this 'nymphet' charm is extremely rare. It is a pinnacle reached precisely because it is you, my lady; it must not be confused with mere cosplay."
While listening to the grand lecture the clerk was giving, I checked my whole body in the mirror of the fitting area. First, this thing on my head.
"It's a ribbon headband, my lady."
That. The headband had a large blue ribbon decoration tied in a bow. I wonder what the point of it is. If it's for holding hair, shouldn't a more practical hairband be used? As for the white ribbon wrapped around my neck, I had no impression of it other than that it was annoying.
The white blouse had an excessive amount of frill decorations. And for some reason, despite it being a short-sleeved blouse, lace-trimmed cuffs were attached to the wrists. But well, I can tolerate it up to this point. The problem is the skirt.
"It's a jumper skirt, my lady."
It's a white skirt, and this one also has a lot of frills. Blue ribbons are woven into it and tied at the hem. The length is about below the knee. And pushing up from under that skirt is this...
"It's a pannier, my lady."
That's what makes the skirt spread out into a dome shape. I can only say it's a nuisance. Furthermore, I'm wearing white tights under it, and then these things that look like pants...
"Those are bloomers, my lady."
Because of those, my lower body feels bulky. Then there are the blue shoes.
"Those are round-toe shoes, my lady."
The hard, glossy blue leather shoes have platform soles and are difficult to walk in. I wonder if the sneakers I was using until now were no good. Probably not. I can see the situation where if I suggest it, I'll be subjected to a long persuasion.
Even so, I at least got my own way on the minimum. I was almost at the point where even the plushie containing my main body was confiscated. Against the clerk who tried to take it away, saying she would prepare something cuter, I resisted by desperately hugging the plushie. For some reason, the clerk, who got excited (?) seeing Six like that, seemed to have changed the coordination to a white and blue theme to match the penguin plushie.
The backpack was also rejected, and a replacement was prepared, but it wasn't large enough to hold the plushie. They were all things that prioritized design and had little capacity. Carrying it would mean one hand would be occupied, but considering it dangerous to resist any further, I decided to compromise by not having a backpack.
All other requests from this side have been rejected. However, if I think that this clerk is trying to test me as an examiner, I can at least accept this difficult-to-move clothing.
Presumably, they're adjusting the difficulty of the exam relatively by intentionally making me wear clothing that limits my movement. Is it a challenge to overcome this much of a handicap? If that's the case, I'd like to say I have no complaints, but I wonder if something can be done about these tights.
I'm being made to wear white tights, but the tightness that clings snugly to my lower body has an indescribable discomfort. I can tolerate the rest, but these tights... I hate them. Suppressing the urge to strip them off right now, I thrust my hand into my crotch and adjust the position of the underwear and such.
"Aaah!? What an immodest thing to do, my lady! I can't suppress the pounding of my heart at that boyish, audacious behavior! How do you intend to take responsibility! This is a punishment, this is..."
With that, the clerk got on her knees, clung to Six's body, and buried her face in her chest.
"Fsssh—! Fsssh—! Honestly, my lady! Fshururururu! Such a fragrant, elegant smell! Sniff, huff, sniff, huff! I wuv you! I wuv you, my wadyyyy!!"
What is this. What should I do.
"Customer!? Did something happen!? Excuse me!"
While I was at a loss, another clerk opened the curtain of the fitting area, perhaps because the commotion could be heard outside. Then, they were speechless at the sight inside. After freezing for a moment, they immediately began to pull off the clerk who was clinging to me.
"Stop it! What are you doing!?"
"Noooooo!! My ladyyyyyy!!"
She was put in a half-nelson and hauled toward the back of the shop. Exiting the fitting area in a daze, I was met by customers pointing their smartphones at me. Stop it, don't take pictures.
"Our clerk has caused you a great deal of trouble! We are very sorry! As for those clothes, we will provide all of them to you free of charge!"
I handed the card I had received from Michael to the clerk, who was bowing and apologizing profusely. In that instant, the clerk's complexion turned visibly pale.
"This is...! Y-Yes, please, this way..."
Guided with a humility that made me feel sorry for them, I was shown into a room with [STAFF ONLY] written on the door. There was no one in the room. The clerk just told me to wait here and left.
After a while, along with the sound of some machine operating, there was a sensation like my feet were floating lightly. It felt like being on an elevator. This whole room is descending rapidly. Apparently, we're heading underground. Don't tell me the exam venue is underground. If that's the case...
As I thought, do I have to take the exam while wearing these strange clothes...?
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