Standing coolly in the middle of the road, she faced the admiring eyes around her with a cold demeanor, returning a standard Demon sneer.
Fema Black Abyss's aura fell somewhere between a terrorist and a competent butler. Her emotions were a mix of joy and shyness, forcibly discharged in the Demon Race's characteristic frenzy. The crowd kept a certain distance from her, and the empty area around her was like the physical range of her aura, all caused by her black and red suit.
She quite liked this new outfit.
Her black curly hair wasn't tied up with clips and hairbands as usual but stretched out as naturally as her twisted horns.
Then, with a bit of force, she crushed the heel of her new shoes.
The dangerous state that warned others to keep away was interrupted by her losing balance, and her rising emotions deflated along with it.
