Extra's Rise: I Stole All The Women In The Hero's Party-Chapter 123: Bras?!

Zayn gave the poor guy a sympathetic look before Althea grabbed his hand — firm grip, surprisingly warm — and pulled him toward the door.

"Let’s get to know each other better."

"Where are we going though?"

"I want to take you to a place where I get my clothes."

Zayn laughed. "Yeah, but you didn’t answer the real question."

"And what’s that?"

"What does shopping have to do with getting to know each other?"

They turned the corner and stopped in front of a colorful shop with a crooked wooden sign that read ’Needle & Whimsy’.

Zayn stared at it like it had just insulted his bloodline.

"Clothes?" he asked.

"You’ve been wearing the same shirt and light armor for a week or so now."

"What can I say? It’s my lucky armor." novelbuddy.cσ๓

"It smells like it’s been to four graveyards and a worm pit."

Zayn opened his mouth to object but paused. "...Okay, yeah, I can’t disagree with that."

Inside the store was warm and cozy, with fabrics draped from the walls like tapestries.

A halfling woman in a measuring apron waved at Althea, who waved back like a regular.

Zayn noticed the way Althea’s hand lingered on his as she pulled him toward the back where the outfits hung — her purple eyes scanning each rack like she was assembling a battle strategy.

"I didn’t peg you as a fashion elf," Zayn said, ducking under a string of scarves.

"You pegged me?" she asked, looking over her shoulder with a raised brow.

"Not like that!"

Her smirk told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I just meant you always look so, y’know, proper. Like a diplomat who would stab me if I brought mud in the house."

"I might still do that," she said sweetly, picking up a fitted black shirt and holding it to his chest. "Try this."

"I don’t even know what size I am."

"Trust me."

He did. He shouldn’t. But he did.

Ten minutes later, Zayn found himself in a changing room struggling to pull on some form-fitting tunic that hugged him tighter than Elisse after a nightmare.

He got it on — barely — and stepped out.

Althea looked him up and down, her face unreadable. Zayn scratched the back of his head.

"Too tight?"

"No," she said softly. "Actually... you look good."

Zayn glanced in the mirror.

It was kind of a nice look.

His usual shirt had seen better days, and this new outfit made him look less like a tired mercenary and more like a tired mercenary who might charm a noble’s daughter into eloping.

"Thanks," he muttered, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

Althea smiled and picked up another tunic. "Now try this one. And this. And — ooh, this with the cloak."

By the time they were done, Zayn had tried on enough outfits to justify a spin-off runway show.

He settled on a deep navy tunic, a light jacket with silver lining, and new boots that didn’t smell like swamp.

"You know," Zayn said as he slipped his old boots into a bag, "this still doesn’t feel like ’getting to know each other.’"

Zayn was still adjusting to the idea that he now owned clothes that were bought by her when he felt his hand being tugged again.

Althea, cheeks slightly pink, glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Your turn’s not over yet," she said.

"Wait, my turn?"

"You’re going to help me pick something too."

Zayn blinked, a bit dazed. "You want me to — like, what kind of something?"

Althea didn’t answer.

She led him — gently but with purpose — around a few mannequins, down an aisle, and into a section of the shop that immediately sent alarm bells ringing in his brain.

Because there it was. The female section.

And not just dresses or robes, either.

No, this was the section. Delicate lace, colorful underthings, and suspiciously cute nightwear all laid out like a tactical ambush.

Zayn’s brain short-circuited the moment he spotted the bras on display.

"Oh boy," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like that might somehow restart his system.

Althea turned to him, her voice a little too casual to be casual. "Pick one for me."

Zayn choked on air. "I — I don’t think I’m qualified for that. I barely know my own cloth size."

"I picked your clothes so it’s only right you pick mine," she said, poking his chest playfully.

"That was different!" he whispered-shouted, glancing around in case the halfling shopkeeper was listening. "That was pants and jackets! This is — this is battlefield-level danger!"

Althea laughed, but her ears were pink now. "Well, I trust your taste. So pick."

She stepped back and waited. Zayn’s eyes flicked between a lacy white bra with small bows, a sleek black one with silver embroidery, and something that was just red and way too tiny.

"Uh," he muttered, pointing hesitantly at the black one. "That one... I guess?"

Althea nodded without another word, took it off the rack, and headed toward the changing room with calm confidence — except Zayn caught the tiny skip in her step that betrayed how nervous she actually was.

He waited awkwardly outside, trying to think of anything except how weirdly intimate this situation was.

Just when he was about to decide that he should probably fake an emergency and run, her voice floated out:

"Okay... ready?"

Zayn turned — and immediately froze.

Althea stepped out, wearing the black bra, her shirt draped over her arm.

Her skin was pale and smooth, curves hugged by the delicate fabric he had picked.

The silver embroidery shimmered just a little under the shop’s soft lighting.

He swallowed.

Words? Gone.

Thoughts? Scattered.

Functionality? Minimal.

"Well?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though her arms instinctively hovered like she wasn’t sure if she should cover herself or pose.

Zayn nodded, then stopped himself, then nodded again. "Y-You look... yeah. That’s definitely the right one."

Her lips curved up. "You sure?"

"Positive. Scientifically proven."

She giggled and disappeared back into the changing room while Zayn stared at a nearby curtain as if it had personally offended him.

When she came back out, fully clothed and holding a few more picked outfits, she passed him with a gentle bump of her shoulder.

"You did good," she said.

"I’m going to have heart palpitations, but thank you," he muttered.

They spent a few more minutes going through the racks together, joking about ridiculous outfits.

Zayn found a cloak that looked like it belonged to a circus ringleader and tried convincing Althea to wear it.

"I will ban you from fashion forever," she said, snatching it from his hands.