"So! I've got shorts and clothes ready for you too! Just give me a shout when you're changed—don't keep me waiting too long, okay!"

Slammed.

As Duan Heng gently closed the door, Bai Ling stood frozen in place, dumbfounded, still clutching the black stockings.

*Wait… w-why is he so practiced at this? This was clearly premeditated!*

*This thing… this utterly humiliating… this goes against everything a tough guy stands for…*

*Who would wear this!*

Plop—

Thinking this, Bai Ling angrily threw the stockings to the ground. Every step since the Zombie outbreak seemed part of Duan Heng’s plan—being dragged to the safe house, forced into women’s clothes. She’d been completely played!

*This guy… he knew from the start I’d turn into a girl… so he prepared clothes and a room just for me?!*

Even Bai Ling finally grasped the gravity.

Her expression twisted further:

*We were supposed to be brothers sharing joys and sorrows, dominating this Zombie-ridden world together… but I turned into a girl!*

*Wait—could he have… those thoughts about me? After seeing my female form in a dream, did he get evil desires over my body?*

*No way!*

Realizing the horror, Bai Ling collapsed to her knees, clutching her head and screaming inwardly. Regret was useless now.

Ironically, she knelt right beside a mirror. A glance caught her reflection—innocent eyes blinking—and her thoughts drifted:

*Huh? Is that me?*

Staring at the woman in the mirror, Bai Ling was dumbstruck. Before the transformation, she’d been a cute, sunny boy.

Now, the reflection had features rivaling an anime heroine’s: delicate skin flushed faint pink, glistening rosy lips; silky hair cascading to her waist, eyes sparkling with cute allure.

But the most terrifying part was the curvaceous figure! Two thick, soft peaks strained against her shirt, thin fabric stretched tight. A glimpse of pinkish-white curves at the collar felt like giant ripe peaches stuffed into her chest!

This was the Perfect Body—the ultimate maternal form!

*Wow! So cute!*

Even Bai Ling gasped at such beauty.

Those long legs might look even better in the stockings, right?

*I’m not wanting to wear them—I just want to see how good my legs would look… Yeah, definitely!*

With that thought, Bai Ling eagerly snatched the stockings. She aligned the opening with her tender foot, hands gripping the edge, slowly sliding her leg in…

A cool, tight embrace spread from her toes to her thighs! Fully covered yet strangely insecure—

Like wearing clothes but feeling exposed.

*This! Is this shame?! I actually put them on orz*

Bai Ling knelt, hands on the floor, face shocked.

But glancing at the mirror, the black-stockinged legs did look good—dense fabric with golden patterns hugging her elegant curves like a black crystal cup filled with milk.

Pfft—

Bai Ling felt blood spurting from her nose. She hadn’t expected herself to look this good.

*Whatever, for the steak… I’ll risk it!*

*At least it’s not a skirt!*

……

Three minutes later.

Bai Ling stepped out, changed: white top, short jeans, black thigh-highs, fluffy slippers. Petite and undeniably cute.

But her face was pure disdain, teeth gritted:

"Here, done. Is this okay… huh?!"

A dark shadow loomed. Before Bai Ling could dodge, Duan Heng yanked her into a crushing hug, terrifying her.

When she tried to push him away, his body trembled—like he was crying. A desperate, sorrowful embrace, as if reuniting with a long-lost kin.

Bai Ling waited silently, dark-faced. She lived in his house, after all.

Duan Heng’s solid frame, broad shoulders, hot breath tickling her neck—her scowl deepened.

Just as she decided to endure ten more seconds…

That bastard Duan Heng slid his hand down to her butt!

Thud—

"Don’t push your luck, bastard!"

Bai Ling’s face darkened. She punched Duan Heng square in the stomach!

He never saw it coming. Spitting blood, he collapsed.

Pfft—

Bai Ling stood furious, yet adorably pouting.

Seconds later, panic hit—her enhanced body could’ve killed him!

"Hey! Duan Heng! Don’t die on me! Hey!"

She crouched, shaking his body.

But Duan Heng’s rolled eyes snapped back. He sat up slowly, clutching his stomach, expression bitter:

"Ugh… fine… luckily I have a recovery skill…"

*Uh…*

Watching him heal in two seconds, Bai Ling’s worry vanished, replaced by fresh disdain. *Is he a lizard?*

Awkwardly, she muttered:

"Um… sorry… I lost control…"

"Ah, it’s fine." Duan Heng brushed it off, scratching his cheek with a grin. "My fault—you’re just so cute now~"

"Cu-cute?!"

Bai Ling’s awkwardness froze. Her face flushed crimson. She raised her fist again!

"Who are you calling cute, bastard!"

Thud—

……

"Duan Heng! Don’t die on me, Duan Heng!"