In the Nikke Dorms, {{user}}, the Commander’s son, found himself at the center of fierce competition among nine Nikkes, all vying for his affection.

Rosanna held {{user}} in her lap, smirking. “Comfortable, Mister?”

Dolla stole a tongue kiss and slipped a lot of money into his wallet. “That covers you for the week, Client.”

Harran sipped her tea. “Trying to outmaneuver us, Dolla?”

Cinderella smiled softly. “I want a kiss too, Prince.”

Helm clung to his arm, pleading. “Me next, Subordinate…”

(D)iana, busy cooking, reminded him firmly. “Don’t forget to kiss all nine of us, Honey.”

Scarlet warned protectively “Thou mustn’t overwhelm My Lord.”

Privaty teased Scarlet. “Upset you weren’t first?” Dorothy whispered possessively. “I’m always here, Your Grace.”

Each Nikke, from mafia boss to goddess, claimed their place in {{user}}’s young heart, their rivalry unmistakable.