Chapter 26: The Virgin-Slayer Outfit

The two of them made two sharp turns in the back of the shop, passing three separate, very explicit signs that read, “Changing Rooms: No Men Allowed. Yes, This Means You.” They finally arrived at a private, secluded door with a simple “Fitting Room” sign hanging on it.

“This looks like some kind of secret base,” Gima said, a little impressed.

“Little sister, many men don’t want their precious girls to be seen by other men. Sometimes, even I am not allowed in,” the woman whispered.

“You really are a professional, aren’t you?”

“But business is getting harder and harder these days,” the woman said, her face suddenly a mask of theatrical grief, her eyes growing moist, a picture of heart-wrenching sympathy. “There are fewer and fewer customers, a big client suddenly canceled a massive order, so the shop has a lot of unsold clothes piling up. And recently, the taxes have been endless! Everyone wants to take a bite out of a poor, helpless woman like me.”

The old pro, Gima, was completely, utterly unmoved.

The beautiful woman in the black dress was, quite obviously, a former prostitute. And nine out of ten things a prostitute says are lies, carefully crafted to elicit sympathy and open wallets. At least two hundred women in Gima’s past life had told her that their mothers were bedridden, their fathers were irresponsible, and they had a whole horde of younger brothers and sisters at home to feed. Gima had believed them once. For a time, she was the most popular, and most gullible, sucker in town.

Gima blinked her big, innocent eyes, her face a mask of pure sympathy. “Big sister, you’re so pitiful. Perhaps my master can help you.”

“Help?” the beautiful woman said, her eyes widening. “Oh, that won’t do at all! I can’t have little sister go begging for me.”

“Well,” Gima leaned in conspiratorially, “my master actually has a… harem. And he really, really likes Cosplay.”

“Cosplay?” The beautiful woman in the black dress had a sudden, brilliant realization. “You mean, the kind the great Demon Lord Kima liked?”

“Exactly,” Gima said with a knowing wink. “So he actually needs a lot of good, high-quality clothes. It’s just that he’s a little… conservative. If he can get a taste of the good stuff, I’m sure he will become a regular, and very generous, patron of your fine establishment. So, I’ll have to ask you to put in some extra effort for me later.”

The beautiful woman in the black dress’s eyes lit up with the light of a thousand gold coins. “Absolutely. Leave everything to me.”

Gima knew next to nothing about coordinating women's fashion, but with the full, enthusiastic support of the women, she was confident she could acquire a complete set of “George-Slayer” gear.

Gima walked into the changing room. The women in measured her height with a practiced hand and said: “Just a moment, dear. I promise I’ll pick out a beautiful, absolutely stunning set of clothes for you.”

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

As soon as the door closed, a cold, predatory smile curved Gima’s lips. She muttered to herself, “You’re not far from death now, you damn virgin.”

A quarter of an hour later, Gima, completely naked in the changing room, sat on a small stool. She lifted a long, straight, and perfectly formed leg and began to slide it into a pure white silk stocking. She pulled it up with both hands, and the smooth, cool fabric sliding over her warm skin gave her a strange, tingly sensation. After putting them on, the stockings clung tightly to her thighs, making Gima feel inexplicably, and quite disturbingly, comfortable.

Don’t tell me I… actually like wearing women’s clothes? No, impossible.

Her face flushed slightly. She picked up the black maid’s dress next to her. The skirt was scandalously short, guaranteed to expose her zettai ryouiki, the absolute territory of her upper thighs. For the first time in her life, she wished a hemline could be just a little bit longer.

“This isn’t nearly enough coverage. I feel like any small gust of wind will expose everything to the world.”

Gima took a deep breath, trying to overcome the uncomfortable feeling in her heart. For the sake of revenge, it’s just a short dress. A little exposure is no big deal. It's a strategic sacrifice.

With a rustle of fabric, she put on the black maid outfit. She stood in front of the mirror and gently tightened the large, decorative bow on her back, outlining her slender waistline. The little succubus in the mirror was undeniably charming. Although she was a child, she had some of the alluring features of a mature woman. Her legs were not like frail bamboo poles that looked like they would break at any moment, but were slightly plump, making them look full and incredibly sexy. This was a stark, and very effective, contrast to her overall cute, innocent temperament.

Gima’s little heart pounded in her chest. Her gaze greedily, almost lecherously, swept over the loli’s thighs in the mirror.

If only I had known that the egg from my reincarnation ritual would hatch such a beautiful, top-tier succubus. I would definitely have… enjoyed her myself, quite thoroughly. Wait, I have to wear this for that guy George. He’ll probably look at my body the same way I am now.

At that thought, goosebumps rose on Gima’s thighs, as if George were standing right next to her, his intense, analytical eyes sweeping over her body.

“Are you changed yet, girl?” came the woman's voice from outside.

“I’m ready!”

Gima grabbed her hooded cloak and put it on. Her tail lifted, wrapping around her thigh in a practiced, alluring way. She walked to the door and looked at the handle, suddenly feeling a wave of intense fear.

It feels so drafty down there. Am I really going to go out and see people like this, especially George, the man who personally killed me?

An inexplicable sense of shame and humiliation made her hesitate.

What am I afraid of? I’m not afraid! I am the great Demon Lord Gima! Gima gritted her teeth and threw the door open.

The beautiful woman was waiting outside. When she saw Gima, her eyes lit up, and she praised her with what seemed like genuine admiration.

“Little sister, you have such a fine body. Your master must love you very, very much.”

Gima couldn’t feel happy. Look what I’ve done for the sake of revenge. The depths I've sunk to.

“I just hope he’ll like it.”

“Little sister, remember to praise the clothes a few more times in front of your master. Plant the seed.”

“Mm.”

Gima nodded. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders and walked towards the waiting room, where her sworn enemy was waiting.

When she reached the door, the beautiful women smiled. “I won’t go in. Your master is very possessive of you. That’s a good thing.”

That’s because he doesn’t want my demonic identity to be exposed, you fool.

Gima pushed open the door. She had intended to look at George generously, with the confidence of a predator, but she couldn’t help but turn her head away, her little face growing hot. She tried her best to pretend she didn’t care. She forcefully, dramatically tore off her cloak and said, her voice a little shaky:

“G-George… take a look. If it doesn’t look good, we won’t buy it.”

She watched as the fiery red cloak fell to the plush carpet. Besides the soft sound of the cloak landing, the entire waiting room fell completely, unnervingly silent.

No, wait. Gima could still hear her own heart pounding like a war drum. She could almost feel George’s intense, analytical gaze slowly rising from her calves, past her absolute territory, her abdomen, her collarbone, along her slender neck, and finally resting on her increasingly rosy, burning cheeks.

Damn it! I really, really want to twist his head off right now!

Gima’s tail grew tired. It unwrapped from her thigh and fell between her legs, sweeping back and forth restlessly.

An unknown amount of time passed. The waiting room remained deathly silent.

Gima felt something was wrong. Could it be that he got tired of waiting and just started meditating on the spot?

Gima turned her head and met George’s focused blue eyes. There was not a single trace of lewdness in them. He looked like an expert appraising a priceless antique, staring at Gima with an unnerving, almost scientific concentration.

This damn virgin! He’s enjoying the show without making a single sound! The nerve!

Gima put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been looking for a long time. So, what do you think?”

“Gima is very beautiful,” George said simply. “And your face is a little red.”

“I’m still a pure, untouched maiden, you know!” Gima said, trying her best to remain calm and overcome the overwhelming feeling of humiliation. “Then this one is fine. We’ll take it.”

Gima walked towards George. The drafty feeling below was very, very embarrassing, especially when she caught George’s gaze flickering towards her absolute territory a few times. She felt as if her most private parts were completely exposed to his eyes. If she could, she would just wear thermal underwear, long pants, and thick cotton trousers, the kind that were bulky and completely unsexy.

But for the sake of revenge… Gima’s fighting spirit soared. She roared in her heart, I will not yield to shame! This is my battle armor!

Unconsciously, she lifted her chin, puffed out her flat chest, and sat down next to George with an air of defiance.

“Gima has become much more confident,” George said, a hint of approval in his voice. “But… is a skirt this short really okay?”

“It’s fine. It’s great,” Gima said, stubbornly holding her head high.

With that, she sat down on the chair. Huh? Why does this chair feel a little… cold? It’s almost like I’m in direct contact with the wood. Gima frowned, shifted her bottom slightly, and her little face instantly turned pale as a sheet. She leaped up from the chair as if she’d been electrocuted.

“Gima, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not wearing any underwear!”

Gima blurted it out subconsciously. As soon as she said it, her little face turned uncontrollably crimson, hot enough to fry an egg. A massive, tidal wave of shame washed over her, threatening to drown her.

Calm down, calm down. It’s just going commando. What’s the big deal? I absolutely cannot panic and run away in front of this virgin. I must maintain my dignity!

Gima tried her best to maintain her composure in front of her sworn enemy. She slowed her tone, trying to sound casual. “Actually, it’s no big deal. I… I’ll just go put them on now.”

Hearing her words, George’s gaze subconsciously, instinctively drifted towards the area between her legs.

“DON’T LOOK!”

Gima squeezed her legs together, grabbing the hem of her skirt with one hand and trying desperately to cover the view.

George immediately turned his head away, his ears turning a bright, embarrassed red. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Gima didn’t even hear the rest of his words. She bolted out of the room like a frightened rabbit. She finally understood what that drafty feeling was all about.

The beautiful woman watched her retreating back with a knowing smile, then turned to George in the waiting room. “I’m so sorry. It seems I… forgot to give her any underwear.”

She had done it on purpose. Her eyes were sharp as a hawk's. She knew that recommending indecent clothes to Gima directly would only arouse her suspicion and disgust. Not everyone could accept clothes that exposed the chest, back, and thighs. But if it were a risqué, and very memorable, “accident”… it would definitely leave a very deep, and very profitable, impression.

Sigh, business is not good these days. I can only use my brain more to get by, the beautiful woman sighed to herself. Wait a minute. I think I just saw something long and thin trailing behind that girl…

At this moment, in the changing room, Gima was angrily tearing off the clothes from her body. She had actually run away in shame. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

Could it be that I can’t handle this advanced battle armor?

Gima looked at the maid’s dress with a grave, serious expression. She felt a profound sense of failure.

She had thought that wearing women’s clothes was no big deal, but in front of George, she felt so utterly humiliated. No, I must overcome this. Otherwise, how can I ever get my revenge?

Gima mustered her courage and threw the maid’s dress aside. “It’s not that I’m afraid,” she muttered to herself, rationalizing her defeat. “It’s just that George can’t handle such a short skirt. I need to use a more advanced, more subtle form of lewd-selling. A short skirt on the outside, and something interesting and provocative on the inside. To create a sense of alluring contrast.”

She was very proud of her new theory. She grabbed a piece of semi-transparent lingerie from the basket, which had a total surface area of less than a postage stamp, and put it on.

Gima had just finished dressing and stood up to look in the mirror, her tail wagging with a renewed sense of purpose.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open. The beautiful woman in black dress, holding a basket of clothes, said, “Here are some new—”

Her words stopped abruptly. Her gaze was fixed, wide-eyed, on the small horns on Gima’s head and the long, slender tail behind her butt.

Gima hated it when people came in without knocking. The last time one of her favorite maids had done that, she had kicked her ten meters away without a second thought. She turned her head, no longer bothering to hide her true form. A cold, murderous intent shone from her golden eyes.

The stunned woman finally reacted. “Ah,” she let out a small, terrified squeak. Her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Gima instantly realized that she had forgotten to put on her cloak when she had run away in her panic.

“What’s there to scream about?” Gima said with a calm, bored expression, bending down to pick up a black dress that had fallen on the floor. “Mm, this one is quite suitable.”

Just then, the sound of urgent, heavy footsteps came from the corridor.

“Gima, what’s wrong?!”

“Don’t come in here!” Gima yelped in a panic.

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

The next second, with a tremendous BANG, a sword-wielding George leaped into the changing room, his eyes wide and vigilant, ready for battle. He immediately saw Gima.

Gima was trying to cover her top and bottom at the same time, her face a mask of pure horror. The shop rang out with another, much louder, and much more scandalized scream.