Chapter 865: Beauty and Destruction

The manager shivered as she regained her composure upon entering the store—she felt a hand wrap around her waist.

Damn it.

The strange sensation made her tremble.

She wasn’t pretty, not very short either, but weighed over 150 pounds, with a somewhat round face—far from the current Federal ideal.

They preferred girls with wavy blonde hair, sharp features, a good figure, and slim build.

Everything about the manager was the opposite of mainstream beauty standards. That’s why, after a brief, awkward high school relationship with another overweight boy, she’d never had a boyfriend.

Sometimes, in a half-dream state, she fantasized about her future partner. But every time she woke up, she painfully realized it wouldn’t be easy.

Because she wasn’t attractive, quality men wouldn’t choose her. Plus, she moved in circles that, if not high-ranking, were at least mid to upper class in the Federation. Her standards were extremely high.

Ordinary men didn’t even meet her criteria, which explained why she’d remained single all these years.

Unless something unexpected happened, she’d probably live alone, maybe adopt one or two kids later, and join some new independent women’s groups, declaring herself a lifelong single and childfree woman.

When she grew old—or faced death—she might regret never having had a true love, never experiencing a real relationship or having children.

Maybe…

But now, the girl’s arm around her waist gave her an indescribable feeling; her breathing quickened, though she didn’t dislike it.

“Sorry… what did you say?” she instinctively tried to pull away.

The salesperson, perhaps sensing she wasn’t one of the players, looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, I might have been too enthusiastic.”

The manager forced a smile. “I overreacted.”

After two seconds of silence, the salesperson continued, “What are you looking to buy? We have everything!”

The manager’s emotions twisted oddly. She looked around at the walls bathed in ambiguous pinkish-purple light, with glowing gadgets making her face flush and burn.

Even glancing at those things felt like her eyes might go blind.

I’m here to buy something for Penny! she told herself, staring hard at the items.

“I want something… well, you know…” she suddenly found it hard to describe.

She felt embarrassed to say it aloud. People who never said dirty words find it hard when asked to say them.

Like now, the manager had never dealt with these things, so saying it was tough.

The salesperson eagerly offered help. “What role are you playing?”

Noticing the guest’s odd state and attire, the experienced salesperson’s heart skipped.

She touched the manager’s back again, this time choosing a gentle spot. The manager barely reacted.

Physical contact brings comfort to both—part of social animals’ nature.

Especially in an uneasy, unfamiliar place, such contact soothes nervous feelings.

The manager’s lips moved but no words came out. The salesperson guessed, “A priest?”

“Priests and nuns are also our best-selling themes. You know, some people have… unusual ideas.”

Seventy-five percent of the Federation’s population believes in heaven after death, that gods exist and hear prayers.

This belief fuels the popularity of priest and nun-themed adult products—people’s minds are strange.

Sometimes, the more beautiful something is, the more they want to destroy it.

The purer it is, the more they want to desecrate it.

Seeing the manager’s build, the salesperson guessed she might want a priest role.

The manager blushed and shook her head. Damn, they even had that theme?

Feeling increasingly awkward, to stop the awkwardness she forced herself to say, “Bad girl!”

“Bad girl!” the salesperson laughed. “And the other side?”

Seeing the manager’s confusion, she explained, “We have lots of bad girls—bad girls at school, in church, at the police station, in the park, even in the living room…”

“Which one do you want?”

The manager was amazed. “That many?”

The salesperson silently wrapped an arm around the manager’s waist again. The manager noticed but was less sensitive now.

“More than you can imagine!”

Her tone was proud—this was every adult store salesperson’s pride behind Financial Street.

The crazy financiers at Financial Street had wild fantasies and demands, but no matter what, the store could satisfy them.

If something wasn’t in stock, they’d custom-make it and produce it in batches, all to meet the financial moguls’ craving for pleasure.

The manager shook her head, confused. “I don’t know. Any recommendations?”

“How old is your girl this year?”

The manager hesitated. “Twenty.”

The Federation’s legal adult age was twenty; marriage was allowed at sixteen, childbirth legal at eighteen. Twenty was just the Gavla coming-of-age age, borrowed by the Federation without change.

Unsure if these items suited Penny, the manager lied about her age.

The salesperson seemed to see through the lie, her lips curling slightly beneath her mask. “Then go with the school uniform set and the family set—these two are best for young girls.”

The manager’s heart raced faster. She vaguely imagined how Penny and Lynch would proceed, a flush of blood surged through her face as if it might bleed at any moment.

“Just these two sets. Pack them securely—I don’t want anyone knowing what they are.” She pulled out a checkbook. “How much?”

The salesperson was pleasantly surprised. Few people bought complete sets since some items were common household staples.

For example, high school uniforms—young girls usually had one or two sets.

And the rounded leather shoes required by church schools—no need to buy new ones.

Many props overlapped between themes; no point in buying duplicates.

The real pros spent the least money assembling props to create multiple themes.

But the manager wanted the full sets—a big sale.

While packing, the salesperson said, “Three thousand two hundred bucks, sweetie.”

As the manager prepared to write the check, she suddenly added, “Also include the priest and nun set.”

The salesperson nearly laughed out loud. Four thousand eight hundred bucks—that commission was almost three hundred bucks, more than two months’ base salary!

Working here wasn’t easy; to keep steady customers, sometimes you had to play a role yourself.

If you don’t put in effort, anyone else would take your business.

This reinforced a truth—

Money is hard to earn.

Shit is hard to swallow.

Sex is hard to endure.

The manager quickly signed a transfer check for four thousand eight hundred. After verifying its safety, the salesperson loaded all the items onto a cart.

It was quite a lot—three large boxes, about two meters long, fifty centimeters wide, and nearly eighty centimeters deep.

Inside were all kinds of toys, props, and costumes.

The manager expected just a little, but was surprised by how much there was.

The salesperson, happy with her commission, asked, “Want it delivered?”

Her tone was teasing and tempting; sometimes she didn’t mind playing a role herself.

The manager shook her head, “Just leave it at the corner of the street…”

Though a bit disappointed, the salesperson didn’t push. As the manager was about to leave, the salesperson suddenly grabbed her.

“Sweetie, can I have your number?”

She held the manager tight. After their earlier contact, the manager’s reaction was less intense.

“I… don’t know.”

The salesperson stepped closer. “Or can I give you mine?”

She didn’t get the manager’s number but successfully gave her own.

The flustered manager’s heart kept pounding—an intense thrill she had never felt before.

Soon, the company’s prop van arrived. The driver and staff loaded the boxes and left with the manager.

Watching the van go, the salesperson noted the license plate.

A single four thousand eight hundred Sol check was tempting. She didn’t expect much, but improving her life seemed possible.

If you’re going to be played, why not choose the one who pays best?

In the van, the manager stared out the window, her mind replaying the recent events. She’d never experienced anything like it and felt awkward.

Looking back, she felt foolish.

But for some reason, she kept thinking about that salesperson.

She didn’t know what she looked like or her personality, but was strangely drawn to her.

Ultimately, it was loneliness inside.

She thought, maybe when free, she could ask her out for a drink?