3 bar menu

Femina Economica Monster – Part 02

Suddenly, he asked, “Right? Or left?”

Puzzled, Kazuya watched on as Victorique, licking her lollipop, responded calmly.

“Right.”

“And why is that?”

“Does there need to be a reason?”

The man smiled once more. From behind his back, he produced a big square chocolate brownie in his right hand. In his left hand… a substantial pastrami sandwich! “You must be hungry,” he said, placing them on the table before returning to the sewing machine. His back muscles flexed as he worked diligently.

“Oh… He seems like a decent guy,” Kazuya muttered to himself.

As soon as Victorique took hold of the brownie, it seemed to grow even larger, resembling a small church window. Extending her slender arm from beneath the gray cloth, she held the weighty brownie in solemn silence, consuming it eagerly. Occasionally, she would pause to lick the lollipop held in her other hand. Her cheeks swelled before settling back to normal.

Kazuya felt a sense of relief seeing Victorique appearing slightly better. Victorique, feeling unusually lively, peered over the dwindling brownie and provocatively initiated a playful argument.

“Kujou, if I were a prisoner and chocolate served as the barrier, I’d effortlessly break free and escape.”

“I-Is that so…? Then, please lend your expertise to my cell’s walls as well.”

“Unfortunately, your walls appear to be made of plaster. Hahaha. Well then, adieu.”

“Hey, are you just going to abandon me? Hey!”

As Kazuya casually reached for the sandwich, Victorique stopped him. “That’s mine as well.

“Are you planning to eat the sandwich too?”

“Kujou, you’ve always been a bit daft. I won’t, but it belongs to me. Can’t you grasp such a simple concept?”

“Come on.”

“How about you two just eat in peace, eh? Wonder Girl and Linlin are supposed to be close friends, you know?”

“Um, okay… Wait, who’s Wonder Girl?” Kazuya asked. “Hey, Victorique, don’t hide the sandwich. It’s gone! Vanished into thin air! Where did my sandwich go? I’m hungry too… Um, who’s Wonder Girl?”

Abruptly, the floor in front of them silently parted. Bon Vivant, donned in a suit adorned with stars and stripes, popped up like a jack-in-the-box toy.

It turned out that the space beneath the floor was used for storage, and to exit, they’d simply step onto a trampoline at the bottom to bounce out. Holding papers with drawings in both hands, Bon Vivant grinned widely at the bewildered Kazuya, bouncing up and down.

“Allow me to explain! Wonder Girl is… Ta-da! This!”

He landed on the floor and unfurled a poster as large as himself. His figure vanished, leaving only his laughter echoing from behind the poster.

Kazuya cast a troubled look at Victorique. She was fully engrossed in finishing the brownie and paid no heed.

Displayed on the poster was a nearly life-sized illustration of a girl. With flowing silver hair, she was dressed in a costume bearing the motif of the American flag, clutching a golden coin. A blue cape trailed behind her, while long red boots and a swimsuit patterned with stars completed her ensemble. Her round eyes sparkled with energy.

Poking his head out from beside the picture, Bon Vivant smirked and said, “Isn’t she amazing?” Then, he revealed the next picture.

The second image depicted her fleeing from the ruins of her home in a small spaceship, silver tears glistening in her eyes as she glanced back with regret.

The third picture showcased New York Harbor, where she gallantly rode on the back of an orca with the Statue of Liberty in the background, her silver hair billowing in the wind.

“She was meant to be a noble girl destined to become the queen of her home planet, Wonderstar. However, she ended up immigrating alone to a new planet, Bluestar. Babylon City, of course, is modeled after New York! Ta-da! Take a look!”

He proudly presented the fourth picture. It depicted Wonder Girl confronting what appeared to be robbers at four establishments—a grocery store, liquor store, flower shop, and restaurant—courageously throwing coins. A small Chinese boy was secretly aiding her in the background.

“She fights tirelessly for the city’s peace!”

“It’s mostly just her fighting robbers,” Victorique commented. “Are there really that many burglars in this city?”

Bon Vivant emerged from behind the picture. “Well, you see, it’s a long story, but his old man…” He glanced at the office desk.

A photo on the desk showed a small elderly woman and a large middle-aged man in aprons, appearing to be in a general store, smiling. Both had kind, large eyes. Nearby lay an old apron with a bullet hole and bloodstain.

Before he could elaborate, the sound of the sewing machine, which had been humming from the dim corner, suddenly ceased.

The large young man rose slowly, his shoulder and back muscles flexing once again. Emerging gradually from the darkness, he held something very small—a miniature dress—which he proudly unfolded.

“It’s ready!” he said.

“Oh. Um, what is it?” Bon Vivant asked.

“You’re the one who asked for a blue party dress for this young lady.”

“Right! I nearly forgot. Wow, you’re quick!”

“Being a comic book writer is always a race against time. Here you go!”

Standing beside the muscular young man, Bon Vivant, chubby and diminutive in stature, appeared like a child. Then, Bon Vivant slung his arm around the young man’s shoulder, dangling from it like a sloth in the zoo.

“Wonder Girl, Linlin, allow me to introduce this man. I happened to stumble upon him when I ran away from home and found myself in a tight spot. We talked all night, and just like that, we came up with the story of Wonder Girl overnight. He writes the scripts, and I draw the illustrations, and together we’re the comic duo, Bon & Coup. He’s my invaluable partner, right… Coup de Grâce?”

Coup de Grâce, the partner, bashfully looked down, shrinking. “Hey, isn’t it almost time for the party? Um, it’s about a fifteen-minute drive to the tower from here, so if you leave in about five minutes, you should arrive just in time.”

“Oh, a party? Ah, I almost forgot about that too!”

Bon Vivant jumped down to the floor. He helped Victorique into the Wonder Girl-style blue mini dress and crimson mini hat, along with a white star-patterned chiffon shawl.

“Wow,” Kazuya breathed as he beheld the resplendent Victorique, a girl he should have been intimately acquainted with.

The shimmering satin blue dress cascaded gracefully, its layers of frills fluffed around the knees, adorned with rose-patterned white lace at the neckline and hem. A red ribbon, tied like a bow, served as a belt at the low waist, while small red ribbon ornamented the round puffed-up sleeves. The deep-crimson mini hat atop her head bore plenty of ribbons and flowers. Her dainty feet, wrapped in knitted lace stockings, were clad in blue high heels. The chiffon shawl enveloped Victorique like wrapping paper of a high-end gift. She was like a dark rose unfolding under the light of the night.

To Kazuya’s eyes, Victorique seemed to transform back into the girl he once knew—the demonic little beast of the Old World, decked in lace and frills. A dangerous yet mesmerizing light that captivated onlookers.

It feels just like old times. The Victorique de Blois I know so well. The fourteen-year-old Gray Wolf from before the storm, back when she was at Saint Marguerite Academy.

Bon Vivant stood next to Kazuya with his mouth agape, studying Victorique from head to toe. Surprised, he seemed to wonder about the nature of the creature he had brought along.

But Victorique, for reasons unknown, snatched the reversible cloak from Bon Vivant. The man spun round and round. Donning the gray side of the cloak, she instantly faded into the background, becoming an inconspicuous figure hidden beneath the fabric. Bon Vivant let out a disappointed groan.

Kazuya scratched his head in confusion. Does she hate drawing attention?

Kazuya and Coup de Grâce also changed into fitting tailcoats. Coup de Grâce prepared the wallet and car keys, slipping the apron displayed beside the photo frame into his pocket. Bon Vivant, snapping back to reality, took the luggage as instructed by his partner and declared, “All right, it’s party time! Let’s go!” He struck a pose.

Victorique was too full to move, and she didn’t want to go, so Kazuya carried her and tottered along. A huge pastrami sandwich fell from around Victorique’s stomach. She had hidden it.

“I can’t believe you,” Kazuya muttered in disbelief as he picked it up. Victorique did not seem to care.

They exited the building. The moon shone brightly, casting a pale hue. The warm wind was pleasant against their skin.

And so, Victorique and Kazuya’s strange night, their first in the United States, was about to begin.