“Eh!!!!!!” A sky-splitting roar rolled out like thunder tearing silk.

At such news, reactions scattered like autumn leaves; more wore faces doubting life, like fish staring through glass.

A rare few got excited, muttering, “Bigger than me? Isn’t that perfect?” like sparrows pecking seeds.

Lian stamped them as perverts on the spot, like a red seal slapped onto wet paper.

Alicia stood dazed for a beat, like frost holding a petal, then she came back to herself.

“Then… that maid earlier…” Her voice quivered like a thin string in wind.

“Ah—that one was a guy too,” the answer fell like a cold pebble into water.

Thud—Alicia collapsed onto the table, eyes swirling like storm clouds.

“You’re joking, right? That cute face, that honeyed voice—a girl? This has to be a dream,” her words scattered like dandelion fluff.

Flan, timely and black-bellied, pricked her self-comfort like a needle to a bubble: “Nope, it’s real.”

“Today we’re collabing with the Femboy House next door; a one-time 648-yuan spend gets you a photo with a maid,” she chimed, like a cashier ringing a bell.

Lian couldn’t stand it; a dull ache pressed her chest like a heavy lid.

From the moment they walked in, even her overpowered observation failed to spot the men behind lace; that gnawed like a hidden thorn.

She wondered if something here restrained her, like fog muffling sound; so Lian said nothing and took Alicia’s hand.

“Go… the next place…” Her voice fell like dusk.

Alicia had lost all color, like ink rinsed from paper, and yielded to Lian’s pull.

One tug, and her body followed like a marionette on strings.

Lian paid the bill in passing, like tossing a coin into a river, and ignored the untouched omurice cooling like a pale moon.

Under farewells from maids whose genders blurred like mist in rain, their café journey ended like a chapter closing.

“Hey, Ling, where to next?” Alicia’s tone was steady again, like a lake after wind.

Her face no longer carried that doubting-life look, as if her mind had swept those scary bits away like fallen leaves.

“Emmm… let’s just wander; it’s only been two hours since we left,” said Ling, her words drifting like a breeze.

“We can’t just walk aimlessly,” Alicia frowned, like a map folded wrong.

“I don’t know either…” Ling’s voice trailed off like smoke, until a giant sign hooked her gaze like a fishing line.

Light flared in Lian’s eyes like twin lanterns. “How about there!”

Alicia followed her look to a massive sign blazing like a billboard moon: “Moser Video Game Expo.”

So, Ling wants to play games—then I’ll keep her company, she thought, like sharing an umbrella in rain.

“Mm, let’s go,” she said, her smile soft as silk.

With Alicia’s okay, Lian ran in, joy rising like fireworks.

The expo’s interior was lavish, lights fanning out like peacock tails.

A vast hall opened like a sea, so the crowd never felt cramped.

Each game wore a huge logo, banners bright as painted kites.

Lian’s eyes snagged on a title ringed by a crowd like bees around nectar—Mecha Fantasy.

Steel and gunfire are a guy’s romance, like drums and banners on an old battlefield.

“Alicia-sis! Over there!” Lian’s voice leaped like a fox over snow.

Whether Alicia agreed or not, Lian pulled her along, their steps quick as sparrows.

As they arrived, the people around turned, drawn like sunflowers to light, and noticed the perfect pairing of Alicia and Lian.

Without a word, the crowd opened a path like a tide parting.

See? Pretty girls can do as they please, like wind slipping through bamboo.

Lian barely noticed the courtesy; she only wanted to play, hunger bright as a blade.

She dropped into a seat, smooth as a pebble into sand, and Alicia was tugged into the chair beside her.

Eighteen others sat around them, making twenty in total, like stones set in a ring.

The host spoke, voice clear as a bell: “Everyone ready? Please put on your visors…”

Only then did Lian notice the visor on her head, cool as a dragonfly wing.

She whispered, “Tactical goggles, initialize~,” words slick as oil on water, and fixed it in place.

“Mecha Fantasy is a full-dive VR game,” the host continued, his tone steady as a metronome.

“We’ll explain as we go. Now—Link Start!” The call cracked like lightning.

Lian felt the world go dark, like a curtain drawn in storm.

A moment later she entered a black space, deep as a winter well.

Even Lian gave this full-dive tech a nod, admiration rising like incense.

It’s just like stepping into a mind-realm, she thought; human wisdom is astounding, like stars woven into silk.

In the dark, a rectangular frame floated before her like a paper window.

“Please complete your profile,” a mechanical female voice chimed, cool as rain on tin.

Character name? Let’s go with “Alicia,” she decided, the choice landing like a feather.

Gender, of course: female, she marked, ink neat as a brushstroke.

She filled the rest, odds and ends like beads on a string.

The frame vanished at once, and a wave of weightlessness lifted her like a leaf.

She appeared in a white expanse, bright as snowfield dawn, mechs crowding all sides like mountains.

“Please select a unit…” came the familiar mechanical voice, steady as a drumbeat.

Walking among the mechs, Lian counted—over three hundred styles, like a forest of steel.

It even offered free assembly, like a market of parts; so she chose to build her own.

She picked a basic frame, and the other mechs winked out like lamps.

In their place, countless parts bloomed like a starfield.

Lian spent a few seconds sorting the types, thoughts snapping like abacus beads.

Parts fell into three big families: engines, weapons, armor—each with subpieces like nested boxes.

Weapons split into melee and ranged, paths forked like rivers.

Melee held short knives, long blades, energy edges, categories stacked like tiles.

She thought newbies might spend a full day or two assembling, time dripping like wax.

But she wasn’t a clueless newbie, she smiled, pride warm as tea.

Why do men pilot mechs? For dakka-dakka, for the rain of bullets, like drums pounding in a storm.

A mech that won’t spit fire isn’t a mech; so her goal was clear—rush and wreck, like a boar through brush.

The loli licked her lips, eyes gleaming dangerous as a knife-edge.

Alright, let’s build my lovely mech~, she purred, voice sweet as syrup.

This mech carries a curious twist; we’ll talk about it later, a secret folded like a note in a sleeve.