"A hand fan?" she muttered. "Are you joking?"
[No.]
She narrowed her eyes. "Why do I need a fan?"
[No reason.]
"Liar."
[Incorrect. I am an advanced system. I do not lie.]
Oh, please.
A fancy fan? For 500 points? What was she supposed to do, flirt the pet into submission?
She crossed her arms. "I'm not buying it."
[You must buy it.]
"No."
[Yes.]
"NO."
[YES.]
"BUBU, I HAVE TWENTY POINTS."
Silence.
Then—
[...Then I will put it on credit.]
Isabella blinked.
"...Credit?"
[Yes. The amount will be deducted from your next earnings.]
She considered it.
It wasn't like she had a choice.
And if the system was this insistent, it probably meant doom awaited her.
"...Fine." She sighed. "Put it on credit."
[Purchase complete!]
The moment the words flashed, something shimmered in the air, and suddenly—
POOF.
A gorgeous pink-and-white hand fan appeared in her inventory space.
She sighed.
Why did this feel like a trap?