Karina blinked as her vision returned. She was standing in the exact same spot where she’d thrown her tantrum at the Black Knight—the village square of Quiet Willows. However, not a trace of yesterday’s ruin remained. No burning roofs, no intestines artistically scattered across the cobbles, and no screams of terror.
A pastoral idyll reigned. A square but brilliant sun was shining. Birds chirped a looped melody. The villagers—the very ones who were about to be sacrificed yesterday—strolled about calmly with pitchforks and baskets as if nothing had happened. Green names hovered over their heads: [Villager].
"Blimey," Kary whistled, adjusting the strap of her black dress. "Now that’s what I call a respawn! The admins aren’t half-arsed. They’ve wiped the zone and upscaled the textures. Top marks."
She looked around. Her faithful camera drone, Dronny, was already buzzing nearby, adjusting its focus. Its blue lens gave her a friendly wink.
"Hello, chat!" Karina gave a wide smile, striking her "starting pose"—chest out, bum back, the Dragon Slayer sword slung carelessly over her shoulder. "We’re back on air! Kary’s in the building, and we’re continuing our marathon to save... er... who are we saving again?"
The girl snapped her fingers, summoning the interface.
Location: Village of Quiet Willows
Status: Safe Zone
Reputation: Neutral (Your past actions were annulled by the world reset)
"Oh, come on," Kary pouted. "Neutral rep? And I worked so hard whipping that fat sod! Properly gutted, ladies. But never mind. Just look how lovely it is here!"
She took a step forward, her heels clicking loudly on the clean cobbles. The chat, which had begun loading directly in the air, was already a whirlwind.
[FirstBlood]: Kary’s back! Get in!
[GamerPro2000]: Hang on, where are the bodies? Where’s the carnage? Was there a server rollback?
[Simp_King]: Who cares about the server! Kary, you’re gorgeous! But why are you in the same dress? You wore that yesterday!
[Fashion_Police]: Absolute cringe. A streamer in the same kit two streams on the trot? Dislike.
Kary froze as she read the last few messages. A cold sweat broke out, despite her magical defences.
"The same... dress?" she whispered, looking down at the magnificent black lace.
She really was still in the outfit she’d used to dismantle the cultists yesterday. For a normal gamer, wearing your best armour set until you find an upgrade is standard—but for Kary, a top blogger and style icon (according to her nan and three mates), this was social suicide.
"Oh my god!" she cried, clutching her cheeks. "Chat, you’re right! This is a disaster! I look like... like an NPC with only one skin!"
She frantically searched for a reflection. The nearest puddle looked too filthy, but the window of a shop she was passing did the trick.
"This won’t do," Kary declared firmly, turning to the camera. "Dronny, no close-ups, I’m mortified! This dress has seen blood, sweat, and that bore of a knight. It needs a rest. We need an emergency shopping trip! Right, where’s the local Selfridges?"
She scanned the village street. The choices were slim: a smithy (with the ring of a hammer echoing from within), a tavern (reeking of stale ale), and a small wooden building with a sign depicting a shirt and a sack of grain.
[General Store: ‘Everything for Life’. Owner: Miserly Sam]
"‘Everything for Life’... I hope they’ve got the new collection," Kary muttered, heading for the shop.
She decided not to put the sword in her inventory; it gave her confidence and served as an excellent accessory. Besides, the 80kg weight was doing wonders for her glutes while she walked.
She pushed the door open. The bell above the entrance chimed, announcing the arrival of a VIP client. Inside, it smelled of leather, dried herbs, and, for some reason, mice. Behind the counter stood a scrawny little bloke with shifty eyes and a sparse beard. Seeing Kary—shining, in an evening dress, and carrying a sword larger than herself—he hiccuped and hid behind a sack of turnips.
"Hello!" Kary sang as she walked in, the drone following with a buzz of its propellers. "Where’s your changing room? And show me everything you’ve got that’s posh!"
The merchant, Miserly Sam himself, peered cautiously from his hiding place.
"M-my lady Seeker?" he squeaked. "We... we’re closed for lunch! And there’s no cash in the till!"
"I don’t need your money, you muppet," Kary said, rolling her eyes as she approached the counter and ran a finger across its dusty surface. "Ugh, the hygiene here is dreadful. I need clothes. Armour. But something… you know… breathable. And it has to flatter my assets."
She arched her back, and the drone’s camera immediately caught the perfect angle, showcasing her deep cleavage against a backdrop of hanging garlic cloves.
[Donator_Rich]: 5000 roubles for new gear! I want to see something shorter!
[AnimeLover]: Make her try on a maid outfit!
"Cheers for the donation, pet!" Kary blew a kiss toward the lens. "A maid? Hmm, if they actually have one here… Oi, shopkeeper! What have you got in Light Armour? Cloth or Leather class?"
The merchant, realising he wasn't about to be murdered, straightened up and rubbed his hands together. His eyes gleamed with greed at the sight of the gold trim on his guest's dress.
"Oh, for such a radiant lady, we have only the finest wares!" he prattled. "Here, have a look at this. A quilted gambeson! Cold resistance +10! Or these—boar-hide trousers, hardly worn!"
He dumped a pile of filthy, grey-brown rags onto the counter. Kary picked up the "boar trousers" with two fingers, looking utterly repulsed.
"What is this?" she asked in horror. "It’s a potato sack with leg holes! Are you taking the mickey? I’m not wearing this on stream; I’ll be a laughing stock! My audience is used to luxury!"
"Luxury?" the merchant repeated, unfamiliar with the word. "Ah, you mean magical items! Well, I have something… in the back room. For special occasions." He winked and dove under the counter, lugging out a large wooden chest.
"This is confiscated… I mean, items left behind by previous heroes who… ahem… couldn't settle their tabs," he explained, flipping the lid open.
Kary’s eyes lit up. The chest was filled with items that clearly didn't belong in this drab peasant world: vibrant fabrics, sequins, and leather straps.
"Now we’re talking!" She clapped her hands. "Dronny, 'Fashion Show' mode! Chat, vote on what I should try first!"
1. 'Cheeky Shepherdess' Costume (35%)
2. 'Combat Milkmaid' Set (40%)
3. 'Mistress' Leather Set (25%)
"The 'Combat Milkmaid' wins!" Kary announced. "You lot are absolute deviants… I love you!" She grabbed an armful of clothes and looked around. "Where can I change?"
The merchant pointed to a dusty screen in the corner. "Over there, mistress. Just mind the rats."
"If there’s a rat in there, I’m burning this shop down," Kary said with a sweet smile before vanishing behind the partition. The drone remained outside, hovering right in front of a gap in the fabric.
"Oi, Dronny, no peeking!" Kary’s voice rang out from behind the screen. "And you lot in the chat, look away!"
Naturally, no one looked away. In fact, the viewer count jumped by another two thousand. Through the fabric, Kary’s silhouette was visible as she pulled off her dress. It was flawless. After a minute of rustling and occasional cursing, the screen was shoved aside.
"Ta-da!" Kary proclaimed, stepping into the centre of the shop.
The 'Combat Milkmaid' outfit was a cross between a Bavarian dirndl and a teenager’s fever dream. The white blouse had puffed sleeves and a neckline so plunging it seemed gravity was about to lose its battle with Kary’s curves. A brown leather corset cinched her waist tight, pushing her chest even higher. The ruffled red skirt was criminally short, barely covering her 'strategic reserves'.
"So, what do we think?" Kary twirled on the spot. The skirt flared up, and the drone—obeying its operator's instincts—dove low, giving the viewers a crystal-clear 4K view of white lace knickers with a little bow.
[Chat_Bot]: User Simp_King has upgraded to a Tier 3 Subscription!
[User123]: Oh yes! Finally, some proper content!
[Paladin_Of_Light]: This is impractical! Your legs will get scratched by bushes!
"Paladin, you’re such a bore," Kary huffed, reading the chat. She leaned down deliberately, pretending to adjust a stocking from the set. The high-angle view straight down her cleavage was devastating. "Actually, the ventilation is superb. And look, it even has a little pocket for potions!" She patted her thigh, where a small leather pouch was attached to her garter.
"Shopkeeper!" she called out to Sam, who was standing with his mouth agape, seemingly forgetting how to breathe. "Have you got a mirror?"
"Ah… yes… here…" He handed her a cloudy shard of glass.
Kary looked at her reflection and frowned. "It’s cute, but a bit… basic. I look like an NPC giving out a quest to find ten lost piglets. I’m the heroine! I need more drama! Next lot!"
She vanished behind the screen again. "Next on the list is the 'Cheeky Shepherdess'," she narrated, tossing the milkmaid outfit over the top of the partition. The clothes landed right on the merchant’s head. He carefully removed the corset and hugged it to his chest like a holy relic.
"By the way, chat, I was thinking," Kary’s voice turned pensive. "Why is there never any decent denim in these worlds? Seriously. There's magic and dragons, but no jeans. Is it a conspiracy by the weaving guilds? I’d give half the kingdom right now for my favourite skinnies. Back home, in my cel—I mean, in my walk-in wardrobe—I’ve got a whole collection. Done! Feast your eyes!"
Kary fluttered out from behind the screen. This outfit was even more revealing: a semi-transparent white tunic held by a belt, with a sheepskin cape over her shoulders. Most importantly, there was no skirt. In its place were tiny, ruffled shorts. Kary picked up a staff leaning in the corner (likely for beating rugs) and struck a shepherdess pose.
"Oi, little lamb-chops!" she called out, winking. "Come to Mummy!"
She lunged with the staff, mimicking combat. In doing so, she bent forward so low that the back of her shorts stretched to their absolute limit. The drone immediately flew around behind her, capturing the perfect hemispheres barely covered by the fabric.
[Donator_Top]: 10,000! Jump! Please, jump!
"Oh, you lot are making me blush," Kary giggled, but obediently did a couple of little hops. "This is a jiggle physics test, isn't it? I know your tricks. This game's engine is doing a cracking job, don't you think?"
Sam the merchant had already slid down the wall, clutching his chest.
"Mistress... it's... it's too much..." he wheezed. "My heart won't take it..."
"Wimp," Kary retorted. "Call yourself a man? Right, I like this costume, but it's a nightmare to keep clean. Imagine if an orc bleeds on it? The dry cleaner's in another world; I'm not running back and forth."
She returned behind the screen.
"Let's try the third option. Leather."
While she changed for the third time, she decided to chat with her "donor" from the real world.
"Mum, if you're watching this stream..." she began loudly. "Then this is all graphics! Computer graphics! I'm sitting at home in my pyjamas. Honest to God. And anyway, it's not me, it's my avatar."
[Mom_Admin]: Karina, why are you dressed like that? And why is Grandad walking around the garden shouting that he's calling for reinforcements?
Kary choked on air.
"Oh, Mum's in the chat!" she laughed nervously. "Mods, give her VIP status. Mum, Grandad... he's a LARPer! We're playing! Everything's under control!"
She leaped out from behind the screen in the leather set.
It was quite something. Black leather, a multitude of straps, studs, and a minimum of fabric. The armour protected only against boredom, certainly not against a sword. Thigh-high stiletto boots, a thong over fishnet tights, and a top made of three strips of leather.
Kary walked over to the massive sword leaning against the counter and lifted it with effort.
"There!" she declared, striking a warlike pose. "Now this is what I call style! I feel like Xena: Warrior Princess, only with a bigger budget."
She ran her hand over her hip, encased in leather. The sound of creaking latex was music to the ears of half the chat.
"Dronny, close-up on... oh, ugh!" Kary suddenly winced, interrupting her dramatic speech.
She tried to take a step, but the leather trousers made an indecent squelching sound.
"No, this won't do at all," she declared, fanning herself with her hand. "Chat, did you hear that? That's not the sound of danger; that's the sound of a sweaty thigh! I feel like a sausage in cling film that's been left in the microwave. My makeup's going to run right into my cleavage!"
[Fashion_Police]: Leather doesn't breathe, Kary. That's for dungeons with air conditioning.
[Healer_Ivan]: Take it off! Take it off before you get the "Overheating" debuff!
"I agree, Ivan!" the girl nodded. "Beauty is one thing, but I'm all about eco-friendly and natural materials. Besides, if I'm itching in the middle of a fight, it'll throw off my concentration. Sam!"
She disappeared behind the screen again, and pieces of the leather set went flying out.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
"I'm taking the 'Combat Milkmaid'!" she proclaimed. "Cotton, linen, and total freedom of movement. Besides, red suits me."
A minute later, Kary stepped into the shop, fully dressed in the outfit with the voluminous short skirt and lace-up corset.
"That's more like it!" She twirled, enjoying how the light fabric cooled her skin. The skirt flew up, revealing her shapely legs and those white lace knickers, which had now become the main character of the broadcast. "I feel so... peasant-chic. Makes me want to go roll in the hay."
She walked over to the counter, where the merchant had begun to recover.
"Sammy, I'm taking this set," she leaned her elbows on the countertop, leaning forward. The deep neckline of her blouse was right at the little man's eye level. "How much do I owe you for this masterpiece of rural couture?"
The merchant gulped, staring into the abyss of her cleavage.
"T-three hundred coins, Mistress... But for you..."
"For me?" Kary batted her eyelashes. "Maybe we can barter? I'll mention your shop in my Stories. I'll say: 'Best bras in Quiet Willows—only at Sam's'. Can you imagine the traffic? The queue will reach all the way to the King's castle!"
[Barter_Skill]: Success! Victim charmed.
"For free!" Sam breathed out, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Take it! And here, take a... er... jug of milk too! As a gift! For authenticity!"
"You're a darling!" Kary blew a kiss in his direction, scooped up the jug (which immediately went into her inventory), and grabbed her two-handed sword. "Right then, chat, the look is complete. Now we're not just a killer; we're a cute village killer. Contrast is stylish."
She walked out of the shop, squinting in the sun. The light dress was much more comfortable. A pleasant breeze cooled her legs, and the skirt swayed playfully as she walked, making passers-by crane their necks.
"Right, got the gear," Kary listed off. "Got the weapon. The mood is combat-ready. All that's left is to find someone to test it all on. Where's your notice board?"
She headed for the centre of the square. Noob players and locals parted before her, following her with their gazes.
"Look at her..." one peasant whispered to another. "Aye," the other nodded. "That sword of hers is heavy. Must be a strong lass. You could plough a field with the likes of her."
Kary pretended not to hear the "plough" comment. She walked up to a wooden board covered in parchments and struck a pose: one leg pointed, hip cocked, sword planted in the ground.
"Right then, let's see what’s on the menu for some top-tier content," she said, scanning the notices.
She dismissed the sewer rats immediately ("Ugh, properly dark and damp down there"). The marsh-herb gathering quest was also a no-go ("I’ll ruin my shoes, and the midges will be a nightmare"). She ignored the Succubi too—why on earth would she want competition in the frame? There was only room for one queen in this broadcast.
Then, her gaze landed on a large, rough parchment pinned to the board with a massive, rusted nail. It featured a drawing of something very large, very green, and very toothy.
[Quest: Hunt the Man-Eating Ogre]
[Description: A ferocious ogre known as 'Bone-Cruncher' has taken up residence in the deep woods. He’s been raiding caravans and nicking cows. Highly dangerous! Possesses immense strength and a foul temper.]
[Difficulty: High (Party of 5 recommended)]
[Reward: 500 Gold, rare ingredient 'Ogre’s Tusk', Mercenary Guild reputation]
"Ooh!" Kary’s eyes lit up. "A man-eater? Sounds like a challenge. I’m a bit of a heartbreaker myself, you know. Professional peers, you might say."
[LogicBoy]: Kary, it literally says 'Party of five'! You’ll get one-shotted!
[ShrekFan]: Leave the ogre alone! He’s just misunderstood!
[PvP_God]: That’s a tank-boss. Massive hitbox but insane DPS. Don’t be a daft cow, stay away.
"Oh, belt up, you lot," Kary scoffed, ripping the notice down. "A 'party'... I am the party! I’m the tank (because I’ve got... charisma), I’m the DPS (because I’ve got this iron girder on my shoulder), and I’m the healer (because my beauty heals the soul)."
She held the parchment up to the camera.
"Look at him, he’s a proper cutie! All green. Probably an eco-activist. Lives in the woods, eats organic. We’ll get along famously. And if we don't..." she patted the hilt of her sword. "Well, I’ll turn him into a handbag. Green leather is very 'in' this season."
Kary spun around and marched confidently toward the village gates.
"Dronny, start a poll: 'How fast will Kary tame Shrek?'. Options: '5 minutes', 'One hit', 'They’ll get hitched'."
She stepped through the gates, her red skirt a bright splash of colour against the verdant forest.
[System Message: You have accepted the quest 'Ogre Hunt'.]
[Hint: Ogres are vulnerable to fire and rapid attacks, but possess immunity to stupidity.]
"Immunity to stupidity?" Kary repeated, not quite finishing the message. "Does that mean he’s clever? Brilliant! I love a clever man. Makes them much more fun to... play with."
She adjusted her stocking, winked at the camera, and ventured into the thicket, humming a catchy pop tune.
The forest didn't greet Kary with the refreshing cool promised in travel brochures (had they existed in this world); instead, it was muggy as a sauna and full of persistent buzzing.
"Why is it always like this?" the girl whined, swatting away a fat, iridescent fly. "Why does no one in fantasy ever invent repellent? Wizards can summon a bloody firestorm, but they can't manage a vanilla-scented midge spray? It’s a goldmine! A million-pound startup idea!"
She picked her way along the path, trying to step only on protruding roots to avoid muddying her new shoes. It looked graceful, but it was slow going. The red skirt of her 'Combat Milkmaid' outfit flared rhythmically with every step, offering a cheeky view of her slim legs in white stockings with crimson bows.
Dronny, her faithful electronic squire, flew slightly behind and low, adhering to the 'golden rule' of the stream: seventy percent scenery, thirty percent of the protagonist’s 'assets'.
[Nature_Lover]: Look at that forest! The texture on that bark is mental!
[Ass_Man_99]: Aye, the 'bark'... I’m definitely focused on the bark. And those bows.
[Donator_Simp]: Kary, watch out, there's a root! Don't fall! Actually, do fall, I want to see the skirt physics!
"Fat chance of that!" Kary snorted, hopping over a fallen log. "My [Agility] is maxed out. I’m as graceful as a gazelle. A mountain goat! A—"
CRACK!
Three figures tumbled out of the bushes, snapping branches and utterly ruining the 'one with nature' vibe.
They looked like they’d been assembled by the 'Randomise' button in a character creator. The first was lanky and tall with a wispy beard and a dagger that looked like a prison shiv. The second was a stocky, bald brute with a club studded with rusted nails. The third, presumably the leader, wore an eye patch (which had slipped up onto his forehead) and a leather waistcoat over a bare, hairy gut.
Red markers flared above their heads: [Forest Bandit. Level 5] [Lecherous Marauder. Level 7] [Leader of 'The Jolly Stumps'. Level 9]
"Ooh, hello!" The Leader spat on the ground and gave a predatory grin, baring a row of yellow teeth. "Look here, lads. Look at the little bird that’s flown right into our laps. Home delivery!"
"And dressed for the occasion, too!" the bald one guffawed, scratching his belly with his club. "Off to do some milking, are we? Perfect timing, 'cause we’ve got some, eh, empty jugs right here."
Kary stopped and struck a theatrical pose, hands on her hips. She angled herself so the corset pushed her chest to its best advantage, while the sunlight filtering through the canopy created a halo around her head.
"Lads," she said silkily, looking not at the bandits, but at the drone's camera. "Are you lot stream-snipers? How did you get my coordinates? I specifically asked for no autographs while I’m farming!"
The bandits exchanged confused looks.
"What?" the lanky one asked blankly. "Snipers? We’re robbers, love! Cash, jewellery..." he raked Kary with a greasy gaze, "...and your 'favours' on the table!"
"Favours?" Kary frowned. "I’m a beauty blogger, not a charity. And honestly, your skincare is appalling. You," she pointed at the Leader, "when was the last time you used an exfoliant? Your pores are absolutely clogged with filth. It’s not 'rugged', it’s just poor hygiene."
[Chat_Bot]: Viewers are placing bets!
Kary kills them (90%)
Kary insults their fashion sense to death (9%)
Group... 'activity' (1% - Banned by Moderator)
"Enough waffle!" the Leader roared. "Grab the bird! We’re having ourselves a proper party today!"
He lunged forward, arms outstretched, fully intending to scoop his victim into a massive bear hug.
"Ugh," Kary grimaced, recoiling. "Personal space, mate! Social distancing! Have you lot not heard of the 'idiot virus'? It’s spread through filthy hands!"
The girl was in no hurry to draw her sword—it was far too much honour for such small fry, and lugging eighty kilograms of iron out of its scabbard was a chore. Instead, she utilised her secret weapons: high heels and physics. When the Leader was a mere metre away, Kary executed a sharp pirouette.
The red skirt of her 'Combat Milkmaid' outfit flared out, transforming into a scarlet blossom. Centrifugal force lifted the fabric practically to her waist, offering the stunned bandits a front-row seat to snow-white lace, garters, and flawless legs.
[Skill Activated: Stunning Beauty]
[Effect: Stun for 3 seconds. Enemies lose the will to fight and the power of speech.]
The Leader froze, his single eye bulging. The Bald One dropped his club right onto his own foot but didn't even let out a peep, utterly mesmerised by the spectacle. The Lanky One simply stood with his mouth open, a bit of drool escaping the corner.
"Like what you see?" Kary gave a predatory smile. "Look, but don’t touch. Touching requires a subscription!"
Taking advantage of the lull, she grabbed the massive sword she had been dragging along the ground and, using the momentum of her spin, walloped the Leader right across his grinning mug with the flat of the blade (no point ruining a manicure on a sharp edge).
BONK!
A dull sound echoed through the woods, like someone hitting an empty bucket.
[Critical Hit! Damage: 150 (Humiliation)]
The Leader flew backward, knocking the Bald One off his feet. The pair of them went tumbling head-over-heels into a patch of stinging nettles.
"Ow! Bloody hell! It stings!" the 'Jolly Stumps' wailed, thrashing about in the undergrowth.
The Lanky One remained standing, his whole body trembling. The dagger in his hand was shaking like a leaf.
"I... I..." he stammered.
"You?" Kary stepped toward him. The drone camera took a low-angle shot, making her look like a giant dominatrix. "Are you looking to subscribe and hit the like button? Or would you rather join your mates in the nettles?"
"Like! I’ll like!" the bandit shrieked. He dropped his dagger and legged it into the thicket so fast he left a literal dust trail behind him, just like in the cartoons.
"Good lad," Kary nodded. "Dronny, did you catch that spin? I want to make a GIF of it. It’ll be a proper banger on TikTok. 'How to ditch blokes on a first date: a tutorial by Kary'."
She smoothed her skirt, flicked an invisible speck of dust from her shoulder, and continued on her way.
[Experience +150]
[Loot: Rusted Nail, Filthy Eyepatch (Common)]
"Mmm, bit of a rubbish drop, that," she commented on the system message. "No gold, no crystals. The cost-of-living crisis has even reached fantasy worlds, it seems."
The forest grew thicker. The trees closed in overhead, creating a verdant tunnel. Shadows lengthened, and the atmosphere shifted from 'walk in the park' to 'The Blair Witch Project'. Suddenly, the bushes rustled again. But this time, the sound was different—quiet, prowling. The rustle of soft paws. A low, gutteral growl.
Kary stopped.
"Doggies?" she asked hopefully. "I love doggies! My neighbour had a Pomeranian—proper little cutie, though it did have a habit of shitting in my slippers..."
From the shadows emerged the wolves. These were not Pomeranians. Massive grey beasts with glowing yellow eyes. Five predators. Their hackles were raised, and saliva dripped from their fangs.
[Forest Wolf. Level 8. Pack]
They surrounded the girl, cutting off any escape. The Alpha, the largest of the lot with a scar across its muzzle, let out a low growl, crouching low for a spring.
"Oh, look at you! You’re massive!" Kary clapped her hands, completely ignoring the aggression. "And so fluffy! Chat, look, they’re basically Huskies! Well, nearly. Just a bit... wild. And they reek of wet dog."
She crouched down, and her skirt once again betrayed her (or worked in her favour). Dronny immediately took up a position at 'wolf-eye level', broadcasting a cheeky view of Kary’s thighs and cleavage to the viewers.
"Coo-chi-coo... come here, then!" she called to the Alpha, extending a gloved hand. "Good boy! Give us a paw!"
The Alpha was taken aback. He was used to prey running away or screaming. Prey wasn't supposed to ask for a paw. Prey wasn't supposed to smell of 'Fatal Cherry' and look like a farmer's naughty fantasy. The beast took an uncertain step back. Its instincts were screaming: "Danger! This one’s mental!"
"Don't be shy!" Kary shuffled toward him on her knees. "I'll give you a proper scritch behind the ears. My nails are sharp, you'll love it!"
[Skill: Animal Friend (Passive, Hidden). Your absolute lack of a self-preservation instinct baffles the primitive animal AI.]
The wolf gave a bark—but it was uncertain, almost a question.
"Fine, be like that, you grumpy thing," Kary pouted. "And I was going to give you a protein bar. Well, I ate it yesterday... but the thought was there!"
She stood up, brushing off her knees.
"Down!" she commanded sternly, pointing a finger into the thicket. "Go home! Or I’ll tell your mum you’re bothering girls in the woods!"
The wolves looked at each other. The Alpha sneezed, as if to say, "Sod this, lads, she’s barmy. We might catch something," and the pack vanished silently into the bushes.
"Did you see that?" Kary looked proudly into the camera. "I am the beast-master! A Disney princess, just in a mini-skirt. The birds should be braiding my hair and the wolves should be bringing me my slippers."
[Zoophob]: Kary, you’re mental. They could’ve scoffed you!
[Tactician]: The wolf script broke. They didn't attack because you didn't enter their aggro-radius with a weapon drawn.
[Simp_King]: I’d run away too if a goddess looked at me like that. Out of pure embarrassment.
"Oh, hush, let’s keep going. Still have to find that Ogre," Kary waved them off.
She didn't have to look for long. After ten minutes of walking, the forest changed. The trees became thicker and uglier, covered in moss that looked like troll snot. The grass was withered. And then, there was the smell. While the start of the path had smelled of damp leaves, here it reeked as if someone had forgotten to take the bins out for a month—dirty socks, rotten fish, and a skunk that had died of an upset tummy.
"Ugh! Minging!" Kary pinched her nose. "Good lord, what a pong! Is there a sewage treatment plant nearby? Dronny, turn on the scent filter! Oh, wait, you can't... useless piece of scrap."
Ahead loomed a massive cave, resembling the gaping maw of a monster. Gnawed bones were scattered around (the size of cows... or humans—Kary tried not to look too closely) along with broken wagons.
But the most terrifying thing was the sound.
Hrrr-pshhhh... Hrrr-pshhhh...
The ground beneath her feet vibrated slightly. Dead leaves fell from the trees.
"Is that... an earthquake?" Kary whispered, ducking behind a thick oak trunk.
[System Alert: You have discovered the Lair of Bone-Cruncher the Ogre.]
[Warning! Target is currently: Deeply Asleep.]
[Hint: Ogres are nocturnal predators. They sleep during the day to recover strength. Attacking a sleeping foe grants a damage bonus but may trigger a 'Rage' state upon waking.]
[Recommendation: Wait for nightfall when the Ogre leaves to hunt, or act as quietly as possible.]
"Asleep?" Kary’s eyes lit up. "Jackpot! Easy win! While he’s catching some Z’s, I’ll creep up and—whack!—sword to the noggin. He won't even have time to wake up."
[Stealth_Master]: Kary, you have zero stealth. Your heels are clacking across the whole forest, and he’ll smell your perfume from a mile away.
"Don't tell me how to do my job!" she hissed at the chat. "I’ll tiptoe. Like a ninja. Like a little kitty-cat. Meow."
She adjusted her cleavage, gripped her sword firmly, and moved toward the entrance. Every step was a struggle—not due to fear, but because of the unbearable stench. Kary breathed through her mouth, trying not to think about the bacteria settling on her tongue. She entered the stone vaults. Semi-darkness reigned inside, with light only filtering in from the entrance to illuminate the centre of the cave.
In the middle of the lair, on a pile of filthy hides, straw, and someone’s captured banners, lay HIM. Bone-Cruncher the Ogre. He was massive. No, more than that. An ABSOLUTE UNIT. Three metres tall at least; even lying down, he took up half the cave. His swamp-green skin was covered in warts the size of fists. His belly rose and fell like a pair of bellows, producing that thunderous snoring.
His jaw hung open, and a river of drool leaked out, forming a small lake on the floor.
"Heavenly Father..." Kary whispered, feeling like an ant before an elephant. "He’s... quite something."
The ogre’s loins were covered (praise the System!) by a loincloth made from the hides of some unfortunate beasts. Nearby lay his club—an uprooted tree reinforced with iron hoops.
Kary took another step, trying not to tread in the puddle of drool.
"Right, here's the plan," she whispered into the drone camera hovering near her ear. "I get to the head. I wind up. I strike. If he doesn't die—I run and I scream. Simple as."
She moved closer. Now she could see the details: filthy heels, a hairy chest... and then Kary froze. Her gaze fell upon the loincloth area.
The Ogre was sleeping on his back, arms outspread and legs slightly apart. And in the middle... the loincloth wasn't just lying there. It was pitched like a marquee. And not some little pop-up tent, mind you, but a proper circus big-top. From under the hide protruded something massive, hard, and cylindrical, straining against the coarse fabric and creating an unmistakable silhouette.
"Oh..." Kary let out.
She stopped dead. Her cheeks turned a shade of crimson that put her red skirt to shame.
"Is that... what is that?" she squeaked, forgetting to whisper. "Does he have... a club? A second club? A backup?"
[SexEd_Teacher]: That’s morning wood, Kary. Physiology. Ogres have high levels of testosterone.
[Gigachad]: Respect to the Ogre. Proper calibre, that.
[Virgin_Wizard]: Ahahaha! Kary’s seen the BOSS!
Kary swallowed hard. Her gaze, as if glued, couldn't tear itself away from the 'tent'. She knew it was just a mob, a collection of pixels. But the realism of this cursed game was through the roof.
"I can’t..." she whispered, backing away. "I can’t hit him... not while he’s like that! It’s... it’s indecent! It’s harassment!"
She imagined swinging her sword, and suddenly the Ogre wakes up, sees her—tiny, in a milkmaid outfit, with cleavage and stockings—and... with THAT argument in his trousers. The images drawn by her vivid imagination (fuelled by fanfics and romance novels) made her ears burn.
"No! No-no-no!" Kary panicked. "I didn't sign up for 18+ content! I’m a PG-13 streamer! Light erotica at most! This is... this is straight-up Animal Planet territory!"
She spun around so quickly she nearly fell into the pool of drool.
"We’re leaving!" she whispered loudly (too loudly) to Dronny. "Mission aborted! Tactical retreat!"
"Hrrrr... mmm... girrrrl..." the Ogre suddenly muttered in his sleep, smacking his lips and scratching the 'tent' with a massive paw.
Kary shrieked, covered her mouth with her hand, and bolted for the exit on her tiptoes at cruising speed. Her skirt flared, her heels blurred, and the drone barely kept up. Bursting out of the cave like a cork from a champagne bottle, she ran another fifty metres and collapsed behind a hazel bush, gasping for breath. Her chest was heaving against the corset, her face on fire.
"Phew..." she exhaled, fanning herself. "That was a close one. Did you see it? Did you see THAT?"
[Chat_Bot]: The viewers demand a replay!
[Small_pp]: I’ve got an inferiority complex now.
[Biology_Expert]: I wonder what the... ahem... drop-rate is?
"Shut it!" Kary hissed at the chat, though she gave a nervous giggle herself. "How awful. How embarrassing. I’m a lady! I shouldn't be looking at... at monster anatomy!"
She fixed her ruffled hair and looked at the sun, which was slowly sinking toward the horizon.
"Right," she said firmly, recovering her breath and her professional composure. "We aren’t going in there during the day. It’s dangerous for my psyche and the virginity of my eyes. The System said 'Night'. So, we go at night."
She sat back more comfortably on the grass, tucking her legs in so the camera caught another flattering angle of her thighs.
"He’ll be awake at night," Kary reasoned. "The blood will drain from... ahem... strategically important places back to his head. And we can have a fair fight! Warrior to warrior! Not milkmaid to... to... ugh!"
She pulled the jug of milk gifted by the merchant from her inventory.
"In the meantime, we’re having a picnic!" the streamer announced, smiling for the camera, though her eyes were still darting about. "We’ll wait for the dark, tell some scary stories, and drink some milk. A toast to defeating big... problems!"
Kary took a sip, and a white droplet, as per the laws of the genre, trickled from the corner of her mouth, rolled down her chin, and landed right in her cleavage. The chat erupted in delight, completely forgetting the Ogre.
But Kary sat there, staring at the darkening cave entrance and thinking: "I hope he doesn't sleepwalk. And I hope he hasn't got a wife. Because if he has... I feel sorry for her. Or am I jealous? No, ugh, Kary, stop it! Think about the donations! Think about the new sword!"
The night promised to be hot. And very, very big.