The next day, I welcomed the first rays of dawn on the continent of Lemoria—it seemed like it would be good weather.
After washing up and getting dressed, I somewhat clumsily secured my headband, the mirror reflecting back the perfect image of a maid.
Putting on the maid uniform isn't included in any skills, so I could only awkwardly imitate the steps from memory. Going forward, I plan to improve my dressing speed each day. Except for the stockings, which are easily torn if handled too roughly, there's plenty of room for improvement everywhere else.
I'm not particularly averse to stockings—they're certainly more acceptable than skirts. In fact, stockings are essential; otherwise, it would be rather drafty under the skirt. A maid uniform that only covers above the knees without stockings is simply improper.
Actually, once they're on, they're pretty comfortable. The gossamer-thin stockings outline proportionate curves—definitely not the quality you'd expect from medieval times.
"I'm almost out of slime."
I took inventory of the slime meat in the cellar. Thanks to its ability to stay fresh without preservatives, it was the only food remaining.
It would last about two days at most. My appetite has decreased significantly compared to when I was male.
Now I'm a wild maid without a master, and no master means no source of income.
There are various ways to make money, but please allow me to respectfully decline selling my body. In this virtual game world, the most reliable way to earn money is undoubtedly hunting monsters in the wild. Monsters respawn infinitely, and with my hunting skill at Lv. Max, I can maximize the value of my prey.
"...Going out today might be difficult."
Many people have gathered outside the mansion. As a maid, reconnaissance skills are crucial—maintaining utmost vigilance is necessary to keep dangers at bay.
My reconnaissance skills can only be fully utilized when I have a master, so I can only sense a general outline right now. Magic power works like thermal sensing, telling me the state of living beings in the surroundings. The crowd outside the mansion could be described as impenetrable. Some people are trying their best to maintain order—probably Uncle François, the guard captain responsible for this area.
Someone is approaching.
A single unit broke away from the bustling crowd, passed through the mansion gates, and headed straight toward the building.
Soon after, there came a knock-knock-knock at the entrance.
What must come will come.
I took a deep breath and went to the hall to gently open the main door.
What met my eyes was... a man's sturdy chest.
Huh?
I instinctively looked up—the visitor was a tall man, but this height difference...
It's not that he's too tall; I've become shorter.
I'm only 160 centimeters now, nearly 20 centimeters shorter than before my transmigration. I thought self-deprecatingly what a perfect height for nestling in a man's arms.
"Pleased to meet you, Anastasia."
The muscular man wasn't wearing heavy armor, but rather an extremely well-fitted luxurious outfit.
"I am Texas, Governor of the Lone Star Merchant Association."
—Lone Star Merchant Association.
No way... The governor of the Lone Star Merchant Association, ranked second among player merchant associations in the Kingdom of Michel, personally came to this remote area? As a first test of meeting actual game players, isn't this level a bit too high?
"Good day to you, Lord Texas. May the Father's blessing be upon you."
One of The Eternal Pacificus's selling points includes "players can participate in and create history." Regular players have virtually no restrictions on their IDs, but players whose actions will be recorded in the chronicles must change to IDs that match the game's aesthetic.
Otherwise, if the chronicles contained absurd entries like "Pink Bunny Bunny slew the Demon King in the Holy Calendar year XXXX," the tone would immediately become strange.
Outside the mansion's fence, players had gathered to watch the show.
However, Texas was the only player who entered the mansion grounds. Uncle François and his men were already working extremely hard to maintain order, but the real reason for this phenomenon was likely Texas's background.
[Merchant Association], one of the three mainstream carriers for human player guilds, focuses on trade as its core gameplay mechanic. Rather than individual combat power, they value financial strength more. The number of industries a [Merchant Association] is involved in is directly proportional to its scale—food, blacksmithing, potions, documents, stables, tailoring... [Merchant Associations] can get involved in almost any industry in the game. Their main stage isn't literal combat; their battlefield is the smokeless war of overt and covert struggles with rival associations.
Generally speaking, [Merchant Association] players don't possess strong combat abilities, but their financial power is enough to make up for this deficiency. There have been players who offended [Merchant Associations], and gradually they found their [Reputation] dropping despite doing nothing wrong. Porters and merchants have always been active spreaders of rumors. [Merchant Associations] will use their power to spread rumors like a plague. Large merchant associations have extremely high member turnover, and one consequence of carelessly offending a [Merchant Association] is a cliff-like drop in [Reputation].
"Even the big boss of the Lone Star Merchant Association came personally..."
"So Texas is also a maid enthusiast?!"
"Shh! Keep it down. If you offend the Lone Star Merchant Association, by tomorrow every NPC in the Kingdom of Michel will believe you're having an affair with smelly Aunt Katie."
"Actually, Texas probably wants a female secretary. NPC maids are way more loyal than real people, and Anna is both capable... and capable."
"Anna looked this way! She even winked at me!"
I did not! Don't make things up! I only had to look in your direction because my reconnaissance skill isn't working properly.
"I've come with a request," Texas spoke again. "Recently, I happened to acquire an extremely precious treasure. Even the sharpest blade is merely a decoration when left on a rack—it only shows its true brilliance when matched with a worthy owner. Therefore..."
As he spoke, Texas opened his broad palm, and a thread of burning flame appeared in his palm.
The flame then twisted and changed as if possessing its own consciousness, but the light grew increasingly gentle, finally settling into shape like a docile kitten.
"This [Phoenix Evening Dress], I've decided to gift it to the lady in the Kingdom of Michel most capable of making it shine. I hope you will accept it."