"Now then, you should take off your clothes."

At that moment, Alain felt a slight twinge of guilt for the Mita who wasn't called Mita. He could go check on that version in the future.

"By the way, the version you 'borrowed' the clothes from, which one was it?"

"1.0F."

Ugly Mita had already started to peel off her white socks. Alain simply turned around, planning to leave the matter to Misha while he went to the bedroom.

"1.0F? That's a pretty early version. Does the 'F' stand for 'Feature' or 'Final'?"

After version 1.15, Alain would probably have to decide whether to go directly to the core or continue progressing through the versions in order. If it was the former, then befriending Ugly Mita in version 0.5 was essential. If it was the latter, he would need to reset the ring's route. Perhaps he would need to pass through versions 1.1 and 1.0. When the time came, he could have Misha set version 1.0F as a stop along the way.

"W-wait, why are you leaving?"

As he was thinking, Ugly Mita's voice came from unnervingly close, as if she were leaning right against the back of his head as she spoke.

"M-my dear..." Alain could hear the tremor in Misha's voice.

He could pretty much guess what had happened. So, Alain turned around fearlessly.

This girl had stretched her neck out again, her nose practically touching his as they stared at each other.

Having been scared twice now, Alain wouldn't panic this time or blurt out some strange professional or unprofessional exclamation.

"What are you planning to do in the other room? Run away?"

Great, now I'm the one being questioned.

Alain wasn't afraid. Instead, he put on a gentle smile. "I say, aren't we the ones helping you right now? What's with that attitude?"

Ugly Mita seemed not to have processed this yet, and she stared blankly for a moment.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I just think you're cute and wanted to help you out. But my temper isn't that good, you know."

Her long-necked head showed a flash of surprise, her pupils widening for an instant as she muttered "cute, cute" over and over.

Clearly, she was a sucker for this approach.

Misha hadn't yet grasped the situation. Why had her beloved suddenly become so assertive? And more importantly, why wasn't Ugly Mita doing anything? Shouldn't she be angry? The long-haired girl's eyes darted around, searching the room for a blunt object to prepare for a possible fight.

As for Alain, he was focused on the Safety Guard panel: the chainsaw download had reached 100% and was now idle in the Cloud Storage. He could take it out if things got dangerous. Even without his greatsword, he should be able to hold his own against Ugly Mita for a while; he wasn't completely defenseless. Besides, he wanted to seize control of the conversation. Being led by the nose all the time was not a good strategy.

His gambit was proving effective.

At that moment, Ugly Mita retracted her head. Her body, with one small, fragrant shoulder slightly exposed, had clearly only just registered Alain's initial move to step away.

Misha's feet shifted slightly, ready to move back to Alain's side at a moment's notice.

Alain, meanwhile, watched Ugly Mita, anticipating her next possible move.

Ugly Mita, however, just stood there as if in a daze, thinking about something.

"Phew..." Misha let out a breath of relief. Since Ugly Mita had been the first to back down, it meant there wouldn't be any intense conflict.

"So, was I wrong?" And just like that, her beloved decided to press his advantage.

"Alright, you don't have to say it."

Alain's expression remained unchanged, but inside, his mind was racing. He was now certain: the "Lady Mita" who had instructed Ugly Mita to block the virus's advance was definitely Crazy Mita. Those two were connected, and it seemed their relationship was quite deep.

"Fine. Since you've said that much, I have no choice."

Alain really had no choice. He had wanted to give her privacy, but since the girl herself was asking for it... he could only go with the flow.

Misha shot him a look. [My dear, was this part of your plan too? Feigning retreat as an advance, so you could stay here and feast your eyes?]

This part, Alain honestly hadn't thought of. [S-something like that, I guess.]

[You could just look at me directly, yet you're still so shameless... That's so like you.]

[Huh? I can?] Alain was shocked. Had he been missing out on a lot in the real world?

[Not right now.]

Misha squinted her eyes flirtatiously and licked her lips.

[Wait until after your confession, and after my 'special time' is over~] Her gaze lingered, and then with a blush, she urged Ugly Mita to start changing.

And Alain, watching Misha's suggestive look... was getting a little excited.

What was this? Had he gotten permission for their first time before even confessing? This was less of a hint and more of a direct invitation.

Alain quickly calmed himself down, telling himself not to act like a virgin. The "little virgin girl" over there wasn't panicking, so there was no need for a grown man like him to. Thus, Alain put on a nonchalant expression, planning to appreciate another girl's changing form before his confession to Misha."

"Go on, get changed."

Misha shot him a glare.

"..." Ugly Mita didn't understand, but for some reason, this player's gaze felt especially hot on her. She didn't understand, but she let the clothes that were half-slung over her shoulder fall.

As the morning light first breaks, a mountain range is shrouded in milky-white mist. As the pure white dress falls, the mist gradually recedes. Soft curves flow from the dark green foot of the mountain to the clouds, like a silk net not yet fully unfurled. Below the mountainside, between the rock crevices, an edelweiss peeks out, its delicate form sketching a soft and elegant relief against the pure white background.

He thought he was prepared for the fact that she wasn't wearing anything "underneath."

But as it turned out... it wasn't just the clothes underneath; he couldn't even see the pants underneath.

Her vacant gaze showed she still didn't understand the situation as she looked at Alain, who was still appreciating the view.

But those two mountains held none of her "vacancy." They stood tall and proud directly in his line of sight, declaring their existence.

Between the mountainsides, a waistline as slender as the curve of a lazily curled cat's back was punctuated by a small navel that quivered like a pearl.

She just stood there, so lovely, like a blank sheet of paper waiting to be painted.

Of course. Here is the English translation of the scene you requested.

"Go on, get changed."

Misha shot him a glare.

"..." Ugly Mita didn't understand, but for some reason, that player's gaze felt especially hot on her skin. She didn't comprehend, but simply let the clothes, which were half-slung over her shoulder, fall.

The thin fabric of the white dress offered no resistance, whispering as it slid past her collarbones, over the curve of her chest, and down her torso. The garment pooled in a soft, white pile around her ankles, leaving her completely exposed under the morning light streaming through the window.

Alain thought he was prepared for the fact that she wouldn't be wearing anything underneath.

He was dead wrong. It wasn't just the lack of underwear. It was the total and absolute absence of anything.

Her vacant gaze showed she still didn't understand the situation as she stared at Alain, who, for his part, had stopped feigning indifference. His appreciation was now direct, hungry.

Those two "mounds" contained none of her "vacancy." On the contrary. Her breasts weren't large, but they were perfectly formed, pert with an almost defiant firmness. The pale skin seemed to glow, and the light pink nipples hardened under his gaze, as if responding to the cool morning air or, perhaps, to the intensity of his attention.

Below them, her waist curved inward with a feline grace, a smooth, unbroken line that led to her small, deep navel. Alain could swear he saw it tremble slightly, a vulnerable detail amidst her indifferent posture.

His gaze traveled lower, past the gentle curve of her hips. There, where he expected to find at least the barrier of a pair of panties, there was nothing. Just a neat triangle of dark hair, a surprisingly deeper shade than that on her head, guarding the innermost secrets of her womanhood. The smooth lines of her pale thighs met there, creating a sight that was at once disconcertingly innocent and a raw provocation.

Alain swallowed hard, the air suddenly feeling too thick for his lungs. The sound of his own breath seemed loud in the quiet room.

She just stood there, lovely and naked, like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of experience.

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