With my new and considerably improved appearance, I was brimming with confidence. I knew this was the missing piece of the puzzle for my plan against that rude pink-haired girl.
I quickly got dressed, opting for a smart and stylish outfit to match my now polished look.
A black fitted blazer hugged my frame, giving off a polished vibe. I paired it with a crisp white button-down shirt that screamed professionalism.
My lower half was adorned with dark gray slacks that accentuated my newly acquired confidence. To complete the look, I added a sleek leather belt and some shiny dress shoes, as if trying to mimic the image of someone who actually had their life together.
With my appearance improved, I felt ready to tackle my mission head-on.
Success was within my grasp, and I intended to seize it with all the charisma and cunningness I could muster.
The brutal beating, I endured served as a harsh reminder of my weakness.
It was a wake-up call that pushed me to recognize my own fragile self. From this moment on, I was determined to shift my focus towards attaining more power. This world was a cruel place, where only the strong could truly survive and thrive.
"Time to check on her,"
I couldn't help but hope that she was still there, just waiting for me to dominate her. A chuckle escaped my lips, a mix of anticipation and a touch of wicked smile. After all, it was about time the tables turned in my favor.
—
Luckily, the pink-haired woman was still stationed at the desk, engrossed in her phone.
My intention was to approach her immediately, but my attention shifted as I noticed someone else approaching—her boyfriend.
"Hey, what time do you get off?" he inquired.
"That old hag's going to be late, so I'm stuck here. You can wait for me in the lobby," the pink-haired girl retorted with an irritable expression.
I couldn't help but overhear their conversation. Her choice of words certainly didn't paint her in a favorable light. Admittedly, I had badmouthed that lady before, but it was more a critique of her personality than her appearance.
"Nah, I'll just step outside and smoke a cigarette while I wait," the boyfriend replied with a dismissive shake of his head, then turned on his heel and left.
"This is my chance!" I muttered to myself with a sense of urgency. I quickly walked past her and also made my way outside. With her boyfriend acting as an obstacle to my plan, I knew I needed to deal with him before proceeding any further.
As I stepped outside, I spotted him standing a short distance away, lighting a cigarette.
My heart raced with nervousness. This was the moment I had been waiting for—an opportunity to disposed of him and set my plan into motion.
I approached him cautiously, my mind racing with thoughts of how to initiate the conversation. As I drew closer, I cleared my throat and mustered my most confident expression.
"Hey, mind if I join you for a smoke?" I asked, trying to appear casual while suppressing the surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
The words flowed effortlessly from my lips, a testament to the influence of my increased charisma. It appeared that my investment in charisma had significantly enhanced my communication skill as well , which was a welcomed advantage in this situation.
"Sure, bro," he replied with a friendly smile, seemingly unfazed by my presence.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for what I was about to do. But, my obsession to get the "skill store" outweighed any qualms I had.
However, just as I was about to proceed, a realization struck me like a lightning bolt. I had no idea how to smoke in the first place. In fact, I didn't even have a cigarette.
Seeing my predicament, he chuckled softly and offered me one.
"Here you go, buddy," he said with a genuine gesture.
"Thanks... uh, thanks a bunch," I mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant. "I actually left my pack in the hotel." I managed a nervous chuckle, all the while berating my luck. Of course, this guy had to be nice and make me feel guilty about my ulterior motive. Why couldn't he just be a jerk and make my task easier?
"Are you also staying at the hotel?" he asked, striking up a conversation.
"Yeah," I responded casually, keeping my tone neutral.
"My girlfriend works there as a desk attendant," he said proudly.
"The one with pink hair?" I pretended to ask innocently, even though I already knew exactly who his girlfriend was. My hidden motive of was to steal and dominate her in the first place.
"Yep, that's her. We've been friends since childhood, and we started dating after high school," he shared with a touch of bashfulness, as if reminiscing about their history.
Seriously, buddy? We barely know each other. Why are you spilling your heartwarming romance tale on me? Are you trying to make me feel like the trashy protagonist in a hentai anime or something?
"Ah , that's a cool story " I replied with a forced smile.
"By the way," he continued, "if you ever find her a bit rude, I apologize on her behalf. She's been through a lot, especially after her parents' divorce. That's why she can be a bit edgy sometimes." He wore a somber expression, clearly deeply caring for her.
"Damn it!" I curse inwardly
In that moment, my inner turmoil escalated into an epic battle of good versus evil, with my conscience playing both sides.
On one hand, I had a newfound respect for this guy's understanding and empathy for his girlfriend's struggles. On the other hand, I couldn't shake the fact that I have to dominate his beloved girlfriend for the sake of my mission.
I felt like the villain in a cheesy soap opera, plotting to disrupt their adorable love story. My conscience was wrestling with guilt and absurdity, and I found myself mentally facepalming at the entire situation.