Uchiha Gen lied with his eyes wide open. Even though his gaze kept wandering, he still pretended to be an upright gentleman, unmoved by temptation.
The delinquent girl sat on the bed and crossed her legs, revealing flashes of the absolute territory between them. Uchiha Gen's eyes seemed to develop a will of their own, staring fixedly at it as if they were about to press right up against it.
"But from what I can see, your body seems to have ideas of its own?"
"Mm-hmm, they're always like this. I can't do anything about it either. Sigh."
"...Scumbag!"
"..."
But how could Uchiha Gen be defeated by such a simple insult? His focus had always been different from others'. This time, he pointed at her raised foot and asked:
"What's with your toenail polish? What's a little girl like you painting her nails for?"
"Heh, what would an alien like you know?"
"...No, what I mean is... the dye you used for your nails was probably picked up somewhere, right? It smells a little expired."
!
It was as though the delinquent girl had been poked where it hurt. Her expression immediately changed as she said hatefully:
"What's it to you? I'll use whatever I want however I want! Mind your own business!"
"..."
Uchiha Gen blinked. They had been talking just fine—why was she suddenly getting worked up?
"You seem to be very short on money?"
"Huh? What kind of brain-dead question is that?"
"Uh..."
Having gone so long without dealing with currency, Uchiha Gen was left utterly embarrassed by her retort. Only then did his brain catch up: in a civilized era, money truly was essential for survival.
But he had thick skin and did not care about a little verbal sparring. Instead, he stood up and