The massage girl was somewhat distracted. Perhaps because of that, she felt something extra beneath her hands. It was sensitive, pleasurable, and carried an indescribable sour bitterness, all churning together.
Just then, Lady Mora's voice reached her ears again. "Our figures are quite similar. We're both medium height, but with fit, healthy bodies..."
"Uh?"
"We wear the same shade of lipstick, and our perfumes are similar. Maybe we have the same hobbies too... Do you work out?" Mora casually fiddled with the cards in her hand, then tossed them back onto the gambling table. She seemed too lazy to speak with a Patron Family that had no gambling etiquette, while her interest in what lay behind her was clearly rising.
With such a fantastical scene before her, the massage girl inevitably grew nervous. "Working out... ah, yes."
"How many treatments do you get each week?"
"T-Two."
"Your makeup's not bad either. What kind of makeup primer do you use?"
"..."
"Foundation?"
"Hair removal cream?"
"Bra?"
The string of questions thoroughly bewildered the massage girl. Questions she should have been able to answer easily now came out in stumbles.
Fortunately, these were all a woman's instincts. In the end, she managed to answer them all.
Lady Mora nodded. "You really put effort into it. Too bad it does nothing except deceive yourself."
The massage girl: "..."
Blood Demon cackled from the gambling table. "You're doing this again."
"I'm merely stating facts. Obvious skin texture, large pores, many dark spots, excessive oil... Oh, and body hair and body odor. Sorry, I'm just that sensitive—especially when you resemble a middle-aged woman I know."
Mora's thumb rubbed its way across the back of the massage girl's hand until it reached her wrist, where she finally let go. Then she flicked her hand and shrugged,