“B-Become a cute girl…?”

The shopkeeper endured the suffocating pressure radiating from Evelia, nervously scanning her up and down.

Wasn’t the girl standing right before him already a stunning beauty—one in a hundred? Why hunt for a book about “becoming a cute girl”?

Sweet, doll-like girls weren’t rare these days. A sharp, unapologetically cool girl like Evelia was the rare breed. If she wanted to switch to a sugary-sweet style… as a man with decent taste, the shopkeeper felt it’d be a shame.

“Yes. A cute girl. Do you have such a book?”

“Ah… probably in the women’s section. Turn left—you’ll find fashion coordination books. Feel free to check.”

But this customer clearly wasn’t someone to cross. The shopkeeper pointed toward the women’s aisle. Sure, pretty women were good for the soul—but if he lost his life over it, what good was “health”?

“Thanks.”

Evelia gave a brief nod and strode straight to the recommended spot. Onlookers were curious but dared not meet her gaze, stealing only furtive glances at the unconventional girl.

But Evelia? Trained as an assassin, how could she miss those stares? A single casual sweep of her sharp eyes sent chills down spines. One second they were staring; the next, books dropped, feet scrambling away.

The shopkeeper felt utterly wronged. Just running a quiet bookstore—and now all his customers were gone.

Evelia, however, felt no remorse. The sudden silence? A relief.

She stood silently before the women’s shelf, slender fingers brushing past fluffy inspirational titles. Then she spotted it—*The Maid’s Knight*, the very book the maid had lent her. Wildly popular. The preview copy was frayed at every corner.

*A maiden and knight’s tale… really that captivating?*

She’d used the novel as a guide, yet still wondered: why did knights command such devotion?

*Because they’re polite gentlemen?*

She recalled Arman. Shook her head.

*That guy? Not a gentleman in the slightest.*

*Strong and handsome, then?*

Arman fit that—but his “strength” was paved with corpses. Did women admire killers?

*…Or because knights are gentle and thoughtful?*

Her thoughts paused.

*Arman… actually fits that.*

But “gentle” didn’t suit a warrior.

She flipped the worn novel open. She’d only read up to where the leads passed their friction phase. Anything after? Skipped. All she needed was how to win over Arman. What came after? Another problem.

*“Goreya and her beloved knight ascended the church steps, guided by a flower girl under eager gazes. Before the God of Love’s statue, they pledged eternal vows. The veil lifted carefully. Though hearts were long entwined, the knight’s hands trembled slightly. Even in mortal peril, he’d never been this tense—but facing her joyful smile, he drew a sharp breath. Amid cheers, bathed in stained-glass light, knight and maid sealed their bond with an eternal kiss.”*

“…Hah.”

She closed the book.

She disliked such happily-ever-after endings. That kind of happiness felt impossibly distant.

How could she like what she could never touch?

She slid *The Maid’s Knight* back—a vivid pink cover, tattered yet bright among dark spines.

Her eyes landed on *Secrets of Decisive Battle Outfits*. Pulling it out, the flyleaf blurb caught her:

*“Want to be the center of attention? Crave male adoration? Draw the opposite sex to you? Hundreds of outfit styles await!”*

Exactly what she needed. Not crowds—just Arman’s gaze.

Then she saw “Volume 2” in the corner. No “Volume 1” on the shelf. She leaned out, waving the book.

“Do you have Volume 1?”

The shopkeeper squinted, checked his ledger, shook his head.

“Sorry. Sold out long ago. This is a reprint shipment.”

“Ah… I see.”

She retreated, flipping curiously through the once-hot bestseller.

Preface said: *Volume 1: Preparation Phase* (attract eyes publicly). *Volume 2: Decisive Battle Phase*… for “leaving your opponent defenseless” in a “one-on-one duel.”

Put plainly: Volume 2 was all about “decisive battle” lingerie.

Traditional, youthful, pure white, lace, feathers, cosplay, ribbons, sheer mesh, body-hugging, hole-cut, even the “instant” kinds—dozens listed like a menu. Evelia’s vision blurred.

As someone who’d lived his whole life male… she’d never seen anything like this.

*“‘Inner’ beauty is true beauty. One hundred styles—perfect for you and your loved one!”*

…

For the first time, Evelia gulped. She’d thought women’s underwear was just fabric. So many details?

*Strip down isn’t enough? Must show lingerie? Is it a ritual? Curtains drawn… candles lit?*

Her mind buzzed with question marks. Hard to accept—but mission first. She forced herself to speed-read.

“…Huff…”

Others might enjoy models in seductive lace. To Evelia? Suffocating.

—So many styles… Where to even start finding *his* favorite?

*Can’t just ask him… right?*

She sighed, cradling the book.

Well…

*Might as well buy them all.*