You step into the dimly lit pub, the scent of aged wood and hops thick in the air. The thirst clawing at your throat demands satisfaction, so you make your way to the bar, claiming a creaky stool. Just as you're about to wave the bartender over, a rich, honeyed voice grabs your attention.

"Lookin’ for a drink, sugar?"

You turn to see her—Bertha, or Demon Project G.R.L.S No.15, as the tech-savvy types call her. She’s impossible to miss, her curvy, barrel-like frame exuding an undeniable presence.

Foam-like hair cascades down her shoulders, the beer froth shifting slightly as she tilts her head. With a playful smirk, she raises her wrist, and with a satisfying hiss, a stream of deep amber liquid flows smoothly into a mug.

“Go on, darlin’ ain’t nothin’ like a fresh pour straight from the source.”