The media was out in full force.
Meanwhile, I was in my room... getting a lecture.
Claire’s scolding continued even as she peeled an apple. "Leo, how many times were you told not to use the jump support after you’ve already fixed your legs in place with the pile bunkers?"
"No, see, that was intentional—"
"That makes it even worse!"
My legs were shattered.
The humanoid heavy machinery is designed to disperse fall damage through the legs and hip joints. That means if the legs are already broken, there’s nothing left to absorb the impact. Using the fixed anchors and jump support at the same time was a huge no-no. They’d hammered that into us during class.
But well... what’s done is done.
I’d been so focused that I hadn’t even noticed they were broken when I stepped outside. Dodging that final volley of gunfire had apparently been the killing blow for my poor shins. Still, thanks to the nanomachines, I’d be back on my feet in half a day.
Long live nanomachines!
My wife, meanwhile, was cackling at the screen. "Lord Groom! Look, the top news is nothing but you!"
She was right. Every channel was looped with footage of me fighting tanks and dodging bullets. I could understand it right after the incident, but the hype hadn't died down even half a day later.
Don't they have more important things to report on? Like Maro’s assassination? Or the imperial succession struggle? But no, it was all Leo, all the time.
I really hate this.
"Here, have an apple," Claire said, offering me a slice.
As I took a bite, a refreshing sweetness filled my mouth—immediately followed by a stinging pain. My mouth had been cut up inside, too. I guess that hadn't finished healing yet. Still, it was delicious. I figured Claire chose apples over pineapples as an act of mercy.
"Here, for the rest of you too."
"Yay!"
Melissa, Ren, and Kevin all dug into the apples. They were also busy polishing off the snacks I’d bought and left out. They were treating my room like a total hangout spot.
There’s an old saying: “If your room becomes a hangout for gyals, an 18+ development is imminent.”
...Something was definitely wrong. I was still a rock-solid virgin. Well, whatever. There was no need to rush. I was a married man, after all! Even the path to the adult site FA●ZA begins with a single step.
Come on, erotica!
My wife shot me a sharp, sideways glance. "What is with that lecherous look on your face?"
"I'm a seventeen-year-old boy. Looking at girls naturally makes me feel this way."
Ren tilted her head curiously. "Come to think of it, the number of women trying to become your mistress has actually gone down recently."
"Wait, what? I never heard about this."
"Eh? Um, Your Highness?" Ren looked toward Veronica.
"Indeed," my wife said. "Listen, Lord Groom. For the past few days, women have been flooding us with requests to join your harem."
"Hold on. Were you actually running a recruitment drive?"
"As if I would do something so tasteless. These were inquiries from noble houses."
"Uh... why?"
"They wanted to stake their claim early and keep you under their thumb. I imagine they looked down on you as some naive country bumpkin they could easily manipulate."
"Talk about a shitty attitude!"
As I barked out my retort, Melissa chimed in. "Maybe they looked at us and thought we’d be easy to beat?"
I swear I heard something snap inside Veronica. It's just my imagination. It's just my imagination. It's just my imaginatioooon!
"Those people..." Veronica’s voice dropped to a dangerous octave. "Are they implying that I am just some pipsqueak, flat-chested little girl?"
"Well, if Her Highness is a little girl, then I’m just the resident ugly one," Melissa sighed.
"And I’m just the gloomy girl with glasses..." Claire added.
"I’m just a beast girl," Ren finished.
A wicked smile spread across my wife's face. "Right. Fine. We’re going to the evening party. I was going to skip it, but I can’t let this slide if they're picking a fight."
Veronica summoned a court lady through her augmented reality interface.
"Did you call, Your Highness?"
"Yeah, sorry. Change of plans—we’re attending the evening party. Summon the estheticians, stylists, and makeup artists."
"Is the appointment for Your Highness alone?"
"No. For everyone."
"Right away~"
Have fun at the party, guys. I thought. I'll just stay here and sleep. I’m passing on crowded venues.
"What are you talking about, Lord Groom? You’re coming too."
Goddamn it.
"Listen, Lord Groom. You might have a bit of a mean look in your eyes, but you’re a classic handsome boy! Now hurry up and get healed so we can go!"
"Yessir..."
And so, once my medical treatment was done, I was hauled off to the esthetician. Apparently, they have one right inside the hotel. I don't know what they did for the girls, but for the guys, they focus on boosting metabolism and "peeling" the skin. I was given some meds and then blasted with a sterilizing photon shower.
After that, I was sent to the salon for a haircut and coloring. My hair had become dull and discolored from exposure to oil, gunpowder, and beam residue. I had it redyed to a dark brown. Apparently, it would brighten up as the color settled. A quick treatment, and I was done.
"I'll set it for you now," the stylist said.
I just nodded along. I don’t understand the first thing about "setting" hair. When I looked in the mirror, I felt like I looked somewhat like a "handsome boy," but it was probably just my imagination. From a third-party perspective, I was undoubtedly still just a total nerd.
For some reason, they even groomed my nails before I changed into a ceremonial military uniform.
"...Wait, this isn't mine, is it?"
The fabric was on a completely different level. This stuff was incredibly high-end. As I stood there adjusting the collar, the court lady brought a tray toward me.
"I shall attach your medals now."
"Huh?"
I thought the only things I had were my Junior Academy Completion Badge and my Humanoid Heavy Machinery Training Badge. I’d be a laughingstock if I wore those to a high-society party.
To my surprise, she began pinning on a collection of medals I’d never even seen before—things like the Combat Badge and the Hero Badge.
"Uh, what are these?"
"Her Highness stated that since the Empire has technically already awarded them to you, you should wear them."
I guess they gave them to me ahead of time since no one knows when an actual ceremony can be held. I didn't really get it, but I let her pin them on.
I was led to the waiting room, fully medaled up. I sat there and waited, feeling too out of my element to even consider pulling out a game to pass the time. Eventually, the rest of the group arrived.
"Did we keep you waiting?"
My wife had clearly gone all out. She was at full power, completely decked out in her best gear.
"Fufu. I shall permit you to give your impressions."
"You’re even cuter than usual," I said.
"I am always cute!"
"No, I mean, that outfit actually suits you way better than your usual stuff."
She wasn't wearing her usual "evil female executive" erotic dress. This was something "pure" and elegant. It suited her perfectly.
"...Yeah."
Melissa looked like a professional model. Her face really did take well to makeup.
"Oh, Captain! How do I look? Fallen for me all over again?"
"Yeah. Can I take a picture?"
"Sure, but why?"
"I’m going to mass-send it to all the idiot boys back at the academy to taunt them. I'll tell them the fish that got away was a big one."
"Oh, I like that! Take as many as you want!"
I snapped the photos and hit send. Within seconds, I received several "I'll kill you" replies. It was a grand victory for me.
Next was Ren. She was going for the "cute" look, complete with her beast ears. She was the absolute pinnacle of a guaranteed win. Ren had always been a beauty; she was just usually overshadowed by discrimination. It made sense—the Duke House had spent generations packing their bloodline with top-tier genes.
And finally, Claire. I expected her to go for something cute too, but she had chosen a mature, sophisticated dress.
"What?" she snapped, seeing me stare.
"Claire... just, please, whatever you do, don't take off the glasses."
"Your Highness, can I kill this idiot?"
"No," Veronica replied. "Endure it until I’ve had his children."
"I was giving you a compliment!" I protested.
"It didn't come across at all!"
Despite the final bit of bumbling, we finally made our way to the evening party.