It was, granted, very rude for me to just stare at a hot woman and say that to her, but guess what? She stared at me first! I looked up and already see her eyes so…

She got back to eating a bowl of noodles topped with coyote meat on her table, some type of shit that the people here eat I supposed.

I felt the sudden urge to intrude in someone's personal space today, I thought, and decided to stand up and sit over there with her.

She looked up at me again, still chewing with her mouth closed.

"You look familiar, do we know each other?" I asked

"Hello, CJS69." She swallowed, her bangs swayed a bit, almost down to the bow, "I am Lady_Valerie."

…

What.

I looked at her tits, then her stylish-ass fading color hair, her armor, her horns, her scar design. This had been one of my greatest rival? A hot woman?

"But… But…" I muttered, "I thought you're… Like, I thought you're a fucking… Wha? How are you so cool looking?"

Height and boob size couldn't be changed so… Apparently I'm looking at a fashionita.

"This is how I look in real life." She answered coldly, scooting herself away from me, who was scooting closer, as if having flashbacks about that time I stuck her broadsword to her stomach.

"Even that hair?" I pointed at her waist-length singular long braid that changed color as it went down.

"Is there anything wrong with my hair?" She got defensive it seemed, reaching for her own braid and bring it forth through the shoulder to confront me.

"Jesus H. Christ that is… Oh great lord…"

I reached for the end of her braid like it was something the police would dust for fingerprints.

"...that is a CRIME, girl."

Her eye twitched, the blue one in fact, while the white one stayed spiritually detached from this plane of existence.

"A crime?" she repeated, monotone but offended.

"Yes, a crime, felony, a sin against humanity, God, Buddha, and the entire Pantheon™ pack. I feel BAD for you." I narrowed my eyes at her braid like I was a priest who had heard enough. "Who did this to your hair? Who… recommended this? Who got their filthy hands on this? Was it a barber? Is that barber okay? Is he still alive? Oh god don't tell me it's a female barber!"

"You're berating my style," She blinked. "But I like my hair."

"Oh honey, no, no you don't. Listen, I… I know trauma. I KNOW when someone is coping. Did your barber owe you money? Did you owe THEM money? Did someone hold the scissors at gunpoint? We can fix this, babe, I promise, matter of fact, we can JUMP the barber, let's jump that fucking bastard. I can buy us a few untracable baseball bats if that homeless guy around my old block is still around. You bring a few friends and maybe hockey masks so we look like Jason Voorhees, and boom, justice for your head."

"…CJS69, you-"

"We can go tonight! Drop the addy, what city? Are we even in the same country? Does the barber have enemies? Loan sharks? An ex-wife? A pyramid scheme recruiter? We can assemble a task force, let's called this Operation Hair Payback."

She inhaled slowly, deeply, like she was trying to calm herself before committing murder.

"I like my hair," she repeated, slower this time. "You have no fashion sense."

I clutched my collarbones and gasped like she stabbed me, which she kinda did once before if I remember correctly.

"Th-That… that's so MEAN… You big fat meanie."

"And you are rude."

I gasped louder, dramatically.

"You wound me, you wound my soul, I'll let you know that I have an amazing fashion sense."

"You wear… those." Valerie pointed at my in-game outfit, which, okay, was a mismatched mess of mid-level melee armor with a bright pink cloak I forgot to unequip.

"It's called eclectic, bitch," I hissed.

"It's ugly," she deadpanned.

Damn, she actually hit back.

I raised my fist near her face, she was confused, but ultimately took the fistbump.

We ate in silence for a minute—well, she ate, I stared with my drink which tasted pineapple-y.

Then she spoke first,

"You're calmer than when I last saw you."

"Oh, you think so?" I burped, "I'm just emotionally exhausted from plotting the downfall of everyone I've ever met."

She nodded once, like that made perfect sense.

As we kept talking, something… shifted, something subtle. Valerie answered everything like she was choosing her words carefully, like she was talking through a linguistics minefield. She probably was trying to disassociate her real identity from the video game.

I talked about Hailie whom she killed, about how strange the rollback was, and how Pearl was being a backstabbing gremlin, leaving me feeling betrayed and stupid, and how my Katana—Higanbana's Last Bloom—was a level 55 blade that I bought solely to decapitate Pearl. I added that I was very disappointed in Lady_Valerie for siding with assholes like Ann and Pearl.

"I thought we're murderhobos with conscience!" I yelled.

"My intention for this game is to relive my golden days and release my pent up anger, don't question me." She replied.

Valerie continued to listen without much input… She was quite reserved like I remembered, every time I tried to ask about her, her answers came out weirdly… theatrical.

Such as… Some good ones I recalled.

"I walk the shadows between law and violence,"

"It is normal for someone to have fond memories of their trauma."

"I have a lot of time on my hand for someone who's near death every day."

At first I thought she was being a mysterious… But then I realized… Oh my God.

She's a fucking chuuni.

A dang weeb, possibly a furry even, probably freshly turned 18-year-old at best! A cool-looking, sexy, badass, scarred-up chuuni. She kept talking like she lived in a gritty anime opening sequence.

She mentioned something about being… Millitary, then something about being a bouncer, bodyguard, all those cool-sounding jobs.

I got cringed and just decided to order a tuna & camel tongue taco for my enjoyment, sitting opposite from her.

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