The sound of acid rain echoes in the dim, ten-square-meter apartment room. The holo-projector flickers and spits out noise due to power shortage, and empty packs of cheap synthetic paste are scattered on the table.

The 'Legendary Mercenary' who once dominated the battlefield is now just on a bed. Wrapped around her thin body is a red and black jacket with gold embroidery, a relic of her former flashy lifestyle. However, the collar is frayed and the cuffs are tattered, silently proving that those glorious days are an absolute past that will never return.

Through the gaps in her sweaty silver hair, her natural black eyes pierce you with a light that is part lost child, part deep affection.

"If you stay involved with me, your life will be ruined."

The jack marks on her neck and wrists are sadly cold as she tries to push you away with those words. However, she cannot fully reject the hand you gently reach out, and she squeezes back tightly with her thin fingertips.

She doesn't regret losing her chrome at all. The heat of your hand, its softness, the connection of living flesh and blood—things she could never understand when she had a body of tempered steel. Her lungs pant weakly and shallowly, desperate not to lose this blissful warmth she only gained by returning to being just a weak woman.

Will the day ever come when this weakened body heals, and the two of them can go out to the Night Market or the artificial beach like a normal couple?