Chapter 4

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"…What a trap. The downside of having different equipment for different genders. Damn it."

Isato groaned softly as he struggled with the summoner's equipment, which was a poor fit for his size.

Just a moment ago, he encountered a classic ecchi lucky moment when his pants fell as he stood up.

To be fair, his jacket also didn't fit well, so it wasn't so much that his lower half was completely exposed, but more like he was in a shirt.

The slender, delicate legs that emerged from under the loose, pale cream-colored undergarments couldn't help but draw my gaze. I think it was only natural to stare.

The thighs that peeked out from under the hem of the jacket were plump and gradually tapered into a slender shape. The curves of a woman's body are truly beautiful.

As I stared intently, I was met with a glare of exasperation. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Isato is probably around 160 cm tall. While this might be considered tall for a woman, standing next to me, who is over 180 cm and has a well-built physique from kendo and basketball, he looks petite.

I'll quietly forget about the time I tried to wake him up by stepping on him.

The fact that I didn't face the same issue with my equipment not fitting, as Isato did, suggests that the problem is likely due to the change in gender.

In RFC, clothing and equipment don't have set sizes. There are only categories like women's, men's, or unisex. Despite this, various races with different body types could wear the same equipment, which suggests that some magical adjustment was automatically applied. However, since Isato has returned to his original gender, he is now outside the range of this magical adjustment.

Trying to figure out how to make the equipment fit, Isato pulled up the hem, but the soft, flowing summoner's robe kept falling off as he walked.

"…Alright, I've got an idea."

Isato's face lit up as if he had a brilliant idea. That look is concerning. Usually, when an older player in the game says they have a good idea, it ends badly.

"…What's with that look, Aki?"

"It's nothing."

Isato pouted. To avoid further trouble, I quickly asked, "So, what did you think of?"

"I thought it would be faster if you could cut the hem with your sword."

"Ah, I see."

Every time the hem fell, he had to keep wrapping it, which was getting tedious. We would need to get Isato some female equipment when we reach a town. He seemed to prioritize convenience over appearance. It was a surprisingly normal suggestion.

By the way, we are currently walking endlessly because Isato insists that if we keep walking, we'll eventually reach somewhere.

This is possible because, thanks to our in-game stats, we don't feel the heat to the point where it becomes life-threatening.

In a real desert, we would have already collapsed from heatstroke or dehydration.

Even so, Isato, wearing loose, oversized shoes, keeps tripping.

Each time, he gives me a resentful look, but there's nothing I can do to help, so I just look away. Not laughing at his falls is a sign of chivalry.

If cutting the hem will help Isato avoid his frequent falls, I have no reason to hesitate.

"Alright then."

I drew my large sword from my waist. Isato, in an effort to hide his legs, pulled up the hem of his jacket and took off his pants, spreading them on the sand.

"How much?"

"About here, I guess."

I measured the line Isato pointed to, made sure he was in a safe position, and swung my sword.

To be honest, I had a feeling I was forgetting something important.

But it was a very, very bad feeling.

The blade, with its terrifying sharpness, cut the hem of the summoner's equipment (bottom) as intended… but in the next instant, the summoner's equipment (bottom) shattered into a burst of sparkling light.

*Plink!*

A sound like delicate glass shattering echoed.

"Aaaaaah!?"

"Aaaaaah!!"

Our voices harmonized in shock.

Isato's voice was a mix of "Why did this happen?" and my realization of what I had forgotten.

I know this phenomenon. Isato should know it too.

—Durability.

In RFC, most items have a "durability" value, similar to HP.

No matter how powerful a magic item or how well-defended an equipment piece, its durability gradually decreases with use.

And when the durability reaches 0, the item "breaks."

This is what happened to Isato's summoner's equipment (bottom). The blow I dealt to cut the hem was calculated as damage, which reduced the durability to 0.

"…."

I let out a small sigh.

It was good to have an explanation for the strange phenomenon, but the fact that it made sense was also confusing. If this logic holds, it means we are really in a game world. The inventory issue, our equipment and appearance, all these things are gradually eroding any room for denial. The feeling of being cornered was suffocating. The question of how to return to my original room from this world was starting to weigh on me.

The suffocation was dispelled by Isato's deliberately accusatory mutter.

"Aki, you stripped me to see my underwear…"

"Stop it."

That's a terrible thing to say. If someone asked if I wanted to see, I would say I do, but I didn't do anything that would get me arrested in the real world.

First of all, it was Isato who suggested it.

"So, you can't modify clothing without proper tools. That's a hassle."

Isato groaned, frowning.

Considering that any modification to the equipment is calculated as damage, it is indeed a hassle. In RFC, to modify equipment, you need "materials," "tools," and "skills."

This is a good example of what happens when you neglect the "tools" part.

"Aki, do you have any spare clothes?"

"I restored my equipment's durability to max before we left… I don't have any spares."

"Right… I put all the unnecessary items in storage to make room for recovery items."

"I thought we were just going to a dungeon."

In the game, the amount of items you can carry is determined by weight. When going to a dungeon for combat, you typically leave unnecessary items in storage and bring recovery items.

Since I have decent defense and can predict my consumption of recovery items, I usually keep my inventory light to collect drops.

As a result, both Isato and I are currently carrying only the bare essentials.

Isato has used a lot of recovery items, so his inventory is probably quite empty.

"I should have kept my equipment's durability maxed out."

"Isato, you don't usually take much damage."

"Mostly, I get one-shot."

His gaze drifted away.

Equipment durability decreases gradually with each hit, but it doesn't decrease by 1 with every hit.

A good example is when you leave a low-level area with active monsters and come back to find yourself in just your underwear.

Since Isato, as a backliner, doesn't usually take hits, his equipment's durability decreases much more slowly compared to mine. His strategy is to either one-shot the enemy or get one-shot himself.

Incidentally, durability can be restored by having an NPC craftsman repair it or by learning the skill to repair it yourself. I usually rely on NPCs for production, but I believe Isato has the skill.

In that sense, he is skilled but poor.

"Umm, I feel like being naked is fine, but my inner voice as a young maiden is saying otherwise."

"Follow your inner voice."

Isato, who had been pulling up the hem of his jacket to cover himself, has now given up on hiding his legs. Don't give up. Giving up means the end of the game.

Maybe he still thinks he's an old man. If so, he's wrong.

Right now, you are a very attractive elf, and I am in my prime.

I wanted to seriously address this, but when I saw the former old man, now a beautiful woman, laughing happily, I lost my nerve.

"Remember, Aki?"

"…Yeah, when we first met Alti, right?"

"Exactly."

Isato chuckled.

As I explained earlier, in the world of RFC, almost everything has a durability value.

When it breaks, you either have to buy a new one or repair it before it breaks.

However, new players often forget this.

The consequence is—sudden undressing during combat.

Alti, who was leveling up in a remote forest, had her equipment's durability drop to 0.

When we passed by, she was sitting in the shade, hiding in the bushes, looking lost.

While I was hesitating about whether to approach her, the old man transferred his unisex costume, a yellow bear suit, to Alti. The moment of the birth of the yellow bear, Alti.

In RFC, even if your equipment falls off, the innerwear remains. For men, it's boxers, and for women, it's a bra and panties.

So, there was the old man in boxers, me in a red bear suit, and Alti in a yellow bear suit.

It was a very strange scene.

Moreover, instead of returning to town to change, the old man suggested that boxers were fine, and they continued hunting like that.

The sight of a red bear (me) and a boxer-clad old man running through a dark dungeon became a running joke.

"The old man was so energetic."

"Who wouldn't be, running through a dungeon in boxers?"

"Especially with paper-thin armor."

"At the time, we were mainly collecting materials, so there weren't many strong enemies, so it was okay."

"Who kept dying to the weak enemies?"

"Me."

"Good to know."

As we chatted, I fiddled with the unfamiliar clasps and took off my mantle.

In the game, you can just click to put on or take off equipment, but in this situation, that's not possible.

"Here, wrap this around. It should help a bit."

"Is that okay?"

"Sure."

"Thank you, it helps."

Isato took the mantle I offered and, with a flourish, draped it over himself.

"……"

"……"

"……"

"……"

"…Say something, the silence is killing me."

"Don't expect me to say anything."

"Hmm."

Sometimes, silence is the best response.

Isato, chuckling like a dove, wrapped the mantle around his waist.

The fabric, tied at one side of his waist, flowed diagonally down to his ankles, resembling the hem of a long dress.

Isato looked at me with a smug expression.

If the top was a normal outfit, it might have looked fashionable, but with the loose, pale cream-colored undergarments and the dark red mantle, it looked rather sloppy.

He looked like a new ghost-type monster.

"Let's get proper clothes when we reach a town."

"…Okay."

I patted Isato's shoulder, which drooped in resignation, and we continued walking through the desert.

And then, just as the sun was about to set, we finally reached a small village.

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