Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 136. Shopping (2)

I turned my head and looked at Kaelira.

"You want me to choose, or are you planning to pick something out yourself?" I asked, casually, like it didn’t matter. Because honestly, it didn’t. "I don’t have a problem either way."

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes scanned the rows of clothes—endless racks of fabric in every possible cut, colour, and style. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to pick something—it was more like she didn’t know how to.

Truthfully, she looked overwhelmed.

And I won’t lie—watching her try to pretend she wasn’t made me want to laugh. Not out of malice or anything, but it was just... kind of adorable. Like watching a battle-hardened war general trying to figure out which brand of scented candle to buy.

I lowered my head, trying to suppress the snicker bubbling up in my throat. Barely held it in. Swallowed the urge and looked back up at her.

"Let me pick something out for you," I said, trying not to sound too smug about it. "Fair warning though—I’m a black connoisseur. So don’t expect much colour variety."

She crossed her arms and gave a half-nod, her eyes still scanning the racks.

"I don’t mind," she said flatly. "You’re the one paying for it anyway. As long as it fits and I can move in it, I won’t complain."

I raised a brow, a chuckle slipping out. "You’re weirdly cooperative today. What’s the occasion? Did someone swap your soul with a tutorial NPC?"

She met my eyes, not amused in the slightest. "You’ve known me for three days," she said, voice even and sharp. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

I didn’t break eye contact. I held her gaze and gave the first answer that came to mind—raw and unfiltered.

"A confident, blunt, beautiful, strong, empathetic... and kind girl."

That made her blink. Just a flicker. She wasn’t expecting that. I could see the subtle shift in her eyes—the brief moment her defenses dropped. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of red, just enough to notice if you were looking closely.

She looked away.

She was... cute.

I won’t lie about that either.

Still, I didn’t push it. I turned on my feet and made my way toward the racks like I hadn’t just thrown a hand grenade at her emotional state.

The women’s section was a warzone of styles—shirts, pants, skirts, jackets, one-pieces, two-pieces, layered sets, athletic wear, lounge wear, even something that looked like it was designed for underwater combat. Or a fetish dungeon. Hard to tell these days.

Eventually, I stopped in front of a section that felt like the right mix of utility and style. Trousers. Crop tops. Hoodies.

All black or shades of grey. Practical, clean, but not boring. The hoodie was an open zip style—easy to move in, breathable. Nothing flashy. Just efficient.

Each piece was priced at around 200 RHB. Not bad. Pretty cheap, honestly. At least compared to Earth where one branded hoodie could gut your wallet like a fish.

I grabbed two of each—mixing sizes just in case, not that I knew her exact measurements or anything—and walked back toward her, the fabric slung over my arm.

I held up the set in front of her. "What do you think? Like it?"

She looked at the clothes, eyes scanning them with the same intensity she probably used in a combat scenario. Then she looked back at me and nodded.

"Yeah. They’re nice."

Simple. Straight to the point. I respected that.

With her confirmation, I walked straight to the counter. No hesitation. No second-guessing. The AI assistant hovered in place like a ghost made of chrome, its lens-like eyes glowing faint blue.

It scanned the clothes, then turned to me. "Dear customer, the total cost is 1200 RHB. Please provide your ID for transaction."

I pulled out my ID, and handed it over. The assistant inserted it into a sleek, card-reader-looking machine. A soft green glow lit up the display.

"Transaction complete," the AI said, handing me my ID. It gave a low mechanical bow. "Thank you for your purchase. Please return again soon."

"Sure," I muttered, taking the clothes.

I looked around and spotted Kaelira, now roaming the store with a strange kind of distracted curiosity. Maybe she was just killing time. Or maybe she was pretending not to stare at the cosplay section again. Who knew?

I approached her and held out the clothes. "Here. Store them in your inventory. When you feel comfortable, change into them."

She took the bundle with a nod. Her face was still calm, impassive, but there it was again—that tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She was trying to hide it, but I saw it.

Despite everything, she was... happy.

That was enough.

With that done, it was time for my own shopping spree. If you could call it that.

I didn’t waste time. No dramatic stares or second-guessing. I went straight to the men’s section, beelined to the trousers and hoodie rack, and grabbed what I needed.

Black, obviously. I didn’t even consider another colour. Monochrome was the way of life—clean, reliable, tactical. I wasn’t about to show up to a battle royale wearing fluorescent yellow like some peacock on crack.

Back at the counter, I handed over the clothes and my ID to the assistant. The machine scanned everything, processed the payment, and returned both the bagged items and my card. Total cost—400 RHB.

Cheap enough. That left me with around 8k RHB still in my account. A decent cushion.

I didn’t waste any time. I looked around, found the nearest changing room tucked into a quiet corner of the store, and made my way over without a word.

Once inside, I stripped off the standard-issue Rose Academy uniform. Tucked it into my inventory—it would probably come in handy again later. Then I changed into the black hoodie and trousers I’d just bought.

The hoodie was soft but snug. The trousers fit perfectly. All black. Minimalist. Functional. Clean.

As soon as I zipped the hoodie halfway and ran a hand down my arm, a strange, grounding sensation spread through me—like I’d just clicked back into my own skin.

This... felt more like me.

Not the "Cassius" that wore prim academy attire and recited protocol, but Arawn—the one who knew how to move, how to fight, how to survive. It was subtle, but the shift in mindset was undeniable.

I exhaled slowly, then stepped out of the changing room and began scanning the store for Kaelira. It was time to head to the Battle Royale.

But—she wasn’t there.

At first, I thought maybe she’d wandered off. Wouldn’t be the first time she chased some random PvP opportunity only to get flattened. I humored the idea with a smirk. Maybe she was itching for another ego bruise.

But before the thought could go anywhere, her voice called out from behind me.

"Ahmm... Cassius..."

The tone made me pause.

There was something uncharacteristically soft about it—shy, hesitant. I turned around, curious.

And then I saw her.

Kaelira stood near the edge of the changing area, her hands awkwardly folded in front of her. She was wearing the clothes I’d picked—grey crop top, black open hoodie, and black trousers. The combination, while simple, hugged her form in all the right places.

The hoodie hung open, revealing her athletic frame—defined abs, a tight waist, and toned arms. She wasn’t built like some frail fantasy heroine; she looked like someone who trained, fought, bled.

But now?

She was trying to act reserved.

The way the outfit framed her body... I’ll be honest, I might’ve made a tactical mistake. Her attractiveness didn’t just increase by a few levels. No—it multiplied. Tenfold.

I froze.

My mouth parted slightly as my brain tried—and failed—to process the image.

"You... really are pretty... gorgeous," I muttered, barely audible, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

And worse?

I was stuttering.

Stuttering...

This wasn’t me.

I wasn’t some hormone-addled kid who lost all composure the second a girl looked good in tight clothing. I didn’t stammer over compliments. I didn’t get caught off guard.

And the fact that I did?

It pissed me off.

Not at her.

At myself.

Kaelira, blissfully unaware of the silent civil war going on in my skull, tilted her head and ran a hand down her hoodie sleeve.

"These aren’t uncomfortable," she said, almost like she was justifying herself. "Your choice... is good."

Her voice was soft. Almost teasing.

She was acting shy. Cute. Like she was deliberately toning down her usual confidence.

And that only irritated me more.

Not because she was acting differently—but because my reaction to it was so damn visceral.

I forced myself to inhale through my nose, reset my posture, and locked that part of me back behind the emotional firewall where it belonged.

"Good," I said, voice firmer now. Stripped of awkwardness. "Now let’s go. We still have that Battle Royale to deal with. I saw the location—it’s in a game center deep inside Astreel."

My tone had turned clipped, efficient.

Kaelira noticed. Her expression shifted—subtle, but sharp. The softness vanished, and she returned to her usual confident self.

"Yeah," she replied, crossing her arms. "I checked earlier. It’s about a three-hour walk from here. We should take a taxi. It’s cheap, and we’ll get there faster."

I gave a nod. "Fine. Let’s do that."

Then, after a pause, I added—this time with my usual tone, cool but intentional—

"You really do look good, though. Absolutely gorgeous."

She blinked.

"See?" I added with a faint smirk. "Told you. You should give yourself a few touches here and there. Makes a difference."

That was more like me. Controlled. Smooth. No more stammering, no more wide-eyed gawking. Just a statement of fact.

Kaelira didn’t respond right away. But the way her gaze lingered on me—subtly, curiously—told me everything I needed to know.

Yeah. She heard it.

And she liked it.

Now, with the moment settled and our awkward detour behind us, it was time to head out.

The Battle Royale wasn’t going to wait.

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