Larry got excited, waving his arms as he spoke: "Hey, how could you forget? We agreed—after this Demon King mission, our adventuring careers would be complete. Then, we’d marry the perfect wife. Didn’t you say Sig, the City of Slaves, has every type of girl? Just spend money, buy one home. Making her a wife is like saving a damsel in distress! It skips the scary dating process, and you can raise her as you like. I’ve been waiting for this forever!"

Alicia: (expressionless stare)

Alicia understood Larry’s wish—it was her own idea originally. Sig was the world’s largest legal slave trading city. Slaves there came in every imaginable type; nothing was unavailable. For people like them—craving a comfortable life partner but hating dating, overly picky, practically destined to be alone—buying a well-trained woman from Sig, with a personality perfectly matching their desires and no risk of betrayal, was the best and only choice. Adventuring was just part of life, and extremely dangerous. Alicia had planned early: after clearing a batch of Demon Kings, their adventuring itch would fade. Then, they’d count money, hug their wives, and live a lazy life. As S-rank adventurers, they had savings. Alicia entrusted it all to Larry, a former social elite, to invest. It was nearly profitable.

But plans change! What was she doing in a slave city now?

"Larry, we did agree on that," Alicia said, trying to make him understand. She pointed at herself. "But look at me now?"

Larry examined her carefully from head to toe. Her purple hair flowed like a waterfall, shimmering in the sunset. Her doll-like delicate features, slender figure, and pearl-white legs were flawless—except for the tacky standard female adventurer’s outfit. His gaze made Alicia’s scalp tingle, but she endured it. "Do you get it?"

Larry nodded knowingly. "Got it. You look way better now—totally my type. Are you offering yourself in return? I might skip Sig. But first, change into something sexier. If I’m in the mood..."

Alicia: (fuming with rage)

"Die!"

Before he finished, Larry flew backward under Alicia’s "guaranteed face punch," crashing into a shop and triggering curses.

...

"So the money we just earned? Gone—another third spent on damages. You’re such a money-wasting woman; I’m scared of you."

Watching Larry, unrepentant and shameless, Alicia clenched her fists until they cracked.

"Stop! No jokes. I get it. Let’s restore your body first. Book a double room with a private bathroom."

At the inn, seeing Alicia ready to unleash her "peerless iron fist" again, Larry waved in surrender and told the waitress their needs.

The waitress’s eyes darted between them. A couple?

She timidly asked, "Two beds?"

"Of course! What, you want a single bed? You don’t have doubles?" Alicia brushed her off, then snapped at Larry, "Keep your EQ online, or I can’t promise your IQ won’t crash someday."

"We have them," the waitress said.

"Then book it! Stop dawdling. I’m exhausted and need a shower."

Why book a double room with a private bathroom if staying together? The waitress opened her mouth but stayed silent. Customers knew best—they’d paid. Maybe the couple was arguing.

"Any other requests?"

Alicia thought. "A quiet spot. Good soundproofing. I don’t want disturbances."

Such a request made the waitress assume—they were definitely a couple. She selected a room. "Here’s the key. Second floor, stairs to the right. Enjoy your stay."

Alicia and Larry bickered upstairs. The waitress shook her head at her colleague. "Modern couples are so hard to understand."

"But that guy’s lucky. She’s feisty but stunningly beautiful."

"He’s handsome too—a good match. Hope they don’t fight in the room."

The colleague grinned slyly. "They might fight—but the battlefield’s the bed!"

"You scoundrel."

...

Alicia hadn’t realized the implications. Having just become female today, she hadn’t adapted. Out of habit and frugality, she booked a double room.

"Ah, a comfy big bed. Mmm, so good. After a day out, nothing beats this softness."

Alicia lounged lazily, snuggling into the pillow.

Larry tossed the inn’s robe onto the bed. "Go shower. Wear this before lying down, or you’ll dirty the bed."

"You go first. I’ll rest a bit longer."

Alicia didn’t want to move. The bed pinned her down with irresistible force. In her heart, she resisted—but her body betrayed her. She hummed, "So conquered by you..."

Larry: "...I’ll shower first."

"Go ahead."

Soon, water ran from the bathroom. Larry had started. Alicia should get up—he’d be quick. But she was tired. Mentally exhausted. Just a little longer... She fell asleep.

Minutes later, Larry finished. He walked out naked, casually put on the robe, and called, "I’m done. Your turn."

No reply. No movement. Larry glanced at the bed. Alicia was covered by the robe. He pulled it aside—she was sound asleep.

Before, Larry would’ve kicked her off the bed. But today, he couldn’t. He crouched, gazing at his transformed best friend. During the day, one extra look sparked "What are you staring at?" "Staring at you—problem?"

"So beautiful," Larry murmured. He’d said it before, but couldn’t stop. He gently poked her soft cheek. It dimpled, then sprang back. So satisfying. He did it again. And again.

Alicia finally woke, blinking up at him. "What are you looking at?"

Larry snapped up, flustered. "I’m done. Your turn to shower."

"Okay."

Alicia sat up, yawning. Larry seemed odd, but she didn’t dwell. She felt sticky and uncomfortable.

Then, Alicia did something that left Larry utterly dumbfounded.