Chapter 172: Chapter 172: Miss Hina

Chapter 172: Miss Hina

“I anticipated this exact situation before we even set out,” Bai Luo said confidently as he unfolded the delicate set of clothing and looked like he was about to put it on himself.

“But… why women’s clothing?”

Gorou blinked in confusion, his tail swishing with unease as he stared at the outfit—which, disturbingly, looked like a feminine version of his uniform.

There was just something inherently off about it. Something deeply wrong.

“Despite both the Shogun and the leader of Watatsumi Island being women, Inazuma is still, at its core, a patriarchal society,” Bai Luo explained while gesturing with the outfit.

“To many people, women—especially gentle, demure ones—are seen as weak, harmless. We can use that bias to our advantage to slip into the village undetected and gather intel.”

He then held the outfit up to himself, striking a few thoughtful poses before frowning.

“Tsk— That tailor, honestly. I gave them my measurements. Why does it feel like it’s a size too small? Could it be that Liyue and Inazuma have different sizing standards?”

He sounded annoyed, but from the gleam in his eye, it was obvious he wasn’t the least bit surprised.

“Maybe… maybe I should try it?”

After several minutes of inner struggle, Gorou finally offered in a voice that was both hesitant and reluctantly noble.

“Sure! Go ahead. Please do.”

Bai Luo replied without missing a beat—clearly having predicted this exact moment.

Gorou: “…”

Why did he suddenly feel like he’d just walked into a trap?

Something told him he was going to regret this.

Still, the plight of the villagers weighed heavily on his heart, and with the situation in Higi Village being what it was… he had no choice but to grit his teeth and commit.

Picking up the feminine outfit with great reluctance, he gave Bai Luo a sheepish nod.

Seeing this, Bai Luo tactfully stepped outside under the pretense of keeping watch, giving Gorou the space he needed to change.

In truth, Bai Luo had fully expected more resistance. His plan involved gradually coaxing Gorou into wearing the outfit through careful manipulation.

That was where the fun was supposed to be.

But instead, Gorou had walked right into it, practically volunteering.

Less fun? Maybe.

But seeing him willingly dress up like that had its own brand of satisfaction.

Ten minutes later—

Gorou stepped out of the hut, hands clutching awkwardly at the hem of the kimono.

“S-So… how do I look?”

He was visibly uncomfortable—shoulders twitching, head tilting, limbs stiff as he tried to adjust to the completely foreign feeling of the clothes.

To Bai Luo, however, it was flawless.

The outfit fit Gorou like it had been made by a deity. The only issue… was the chest area seems to be a little too tight.

’Huh… guess I should’ve asked the tailor to make it a little roomier there,’ Bai Luo thought.

He’d specifically asked to make the chest area bigger to make faking cleavage easier.

What he hadn’t anticipated was for Gorou’s pectorals to be absurdly defined.

“It suits you perfectly.”

Bai Luo gave a big thumbs up before stepping forward to adjust the wig on Gorou’s head, then flicked a few drops of plum blossom perfume from the umbrella onto him.

And just like that, Miss Hina was born.

Beautiful. Simply masterful.

The contrast between this disguise and Gorou’s usual attire was striking.

Normally, Gorou wore a cropped top that left his abs and belly button exposed—practical, breathable, and rugged.

This outfit?

Soft pastel hues wrapped his torso in gentle folds, with a plunging neckline that teased just enough skin to be alluring without being scandalous. The exposed collarbones glistened under the faint mist, and a massive bow in the front gave the illusion of a certain curviness, neatly hiding his chiseled chest beneath layers of careful deception.

“Miss Hina, reporting for duty.”

Bai Luo teased with a smirk.

Gorou buried his face in his hands.

“Please stop calling me that…”

What a perfect picture of a gentle big sister.

“But still…”

After wearing this outfit, Gorou was more aware than anyone of just how well it suited him. Aside from the tightness in the chest, it felt like it had been tailor-made for him.

But surely, Himura-san wasn’t someone with such… peculiar tastes, right?

Besides, Bai Luo had clearly intended to wear it himself at first—he’d never once suggested Gorou put it on. It was he himself who had volunteered.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Gorou gave himself a silent pep talk.

“Come on, Gorou! You’re the General of Watatsumi—you can do this!”

He nodded firmly to Bai Luo and, looking like a man marching to his noble end, opened the paper umbrella he had brought and started walking toward the village.

But after only a few steps, he came running back—face flushed bright red.

“You absolutely can’t tell Lady Kokomi or anyone in the barracks! Absolutely not!”

He clutched at the hem of his kimono with one hand, ears twitching wildly in embarrassment, his words half warning, half plea.

But that kind of “threat” sounded more like the helpless bark of a puppy—adorably fierce, but utterly harmless.

In fact, it just made his appearance seem even more charming.

“Of course. My lips are sealed,” Bai Luo replied smoothly.

He only regretted not bringing a Fontaine-style image-capturing device.

How could he not preserve a legendary moment like this?

And so, Gorou once again awkwardly headed for Higi Village.

But his strange gait didn’t raise any suspicion—in fact, it gave the impression of someone who had traveled a long distance and was utterly exhausted, barely able to keep walking.

His arrival didn’t attract any attention from the refugees huddled by the stone walls, “drying themselves in the rain.”

They merely glanced at him once or twice before turning their eyes back to the sky.

However, the tightly shut doors of the nearby thatched huts did creak open slightly.

From those narrow slits, bloodshot eyes peeked out—eyes full of greed, fear, despair… and even pity.

So many twisted emotions all at once that even a seasoned battlefield veteran like Gorou felt a chill in his bones.

He instinctively wanted to ask the people by the wall what was going on, but then remembered his voice didn’t match his current disguise.

So he held his tongue.

Still, his hesitant expression—and the slowly fading scent of plum blossom on his clothing—caught the attention of those wall-huggers.

“Bo-hon is a liar! The village chief is a liar! Everyone’s a liar!!” One man suddenly snapped.

His eyes were bloodshot and wild, his expression completely deranged. He screamed at the top of his lungs as though something inside him had broken.

“I’ll offer a sacrifice for you! Choose me! Choose me! Choose me!!”

He lunged at Gorou with a crazed expression, mud- and blood-caked hands wrapping around his throat in an attempt to strangle him to death.

Just as Gorou prepared to fight back, a burly man stepped out from behind the stone wall and brought a hoe crashing down onto the lunatic’s head.

The madman groaned and collapsed.

Gorou quickly pushed him away and looked toward the hoe-wielding man with a frightened expression, still “in character.”

“Are you alright, miss?”

The large man asked, putting away his hoe.

At that moment, several nearby thatched doors opened wide.

The people who came out looked like ordinary farmers, holding tools like hoes and shovels.

From the dark circles under their eyes and their pale complexions, it was obvious they hadn’t slept well in a long time.

But despite their exhaustion, they seemed very alert—their eyes were wide open, to the point where it looked like their eyeballs might pop out.

“I’m the village chief here—name’s Washizu. And you, miss… what should I call you?”

. . . . .

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