A pile of rapidly twitching eyeballs, two slender, beautiful legs, an ill-fitting maid's miniskirt, and filthy flat leather shoes.
The Eyeball Maids looked like something straight out of a horror video game, but since Star-Lord had decided they were "actors" made by Deathstroke, he was not particularly nervous.
After dry-heaving once, he even had the leisure to wonder where these maids' vocal organs were.
The good news was that the maids had no hands. Everything above their waists was made of piled-up eyeballs. All they could do was leap up and ram their bodies into the young lady's face as though they intended to feed her an ice cream cone.
A wooden comb was hardly a proper weapon, and the girl's current physical condition was nowhere near that of The Warrior. Fortunately, Star-Lord was exceptionally good at dodging, and when he jabbed the comb into the monsters' eyeballs, they would stiffen temporarily from the pain.
The room was large. A noble young lady's bedroom was usually spacious, giving him plenty of room to maneuver. Still, he inevitably knocked over bottles and jars, scattering large amounts of powder resembling cosmetics everywhere.
"Stop being naughty, young lady. I know you do not wish to gain weight, but you cannot simply refuse to eat."
The white-haired butler still stood guard at the bedroom door, patiently watching the maids play a game of chase with the young lady. His tone remained indulgent, as if he truly loved how lively she was.
"Eat your mother's eggs! Fuck you! Humanity will not submit!"
With a comb in one hand and his middle finger expertly raised with the other, Star-Lord sent his old butler a warm greeting. Naturally, he did not forget to declare his unwavering conviction: he would never submit to alien monsters.
Well, that was