Of all places, the Game Development Department's clubroom seemed the most unlikely stage for an encounter steeped in both absurdity and charm. It was an unassuming day, tinged with the faint hum of machinery and the gentle clatter of game controllers. Yet there Alice stood, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and a begrudging acceptance, holding up the black-and-white garment she had retrieved from the depths of an old locker.

The maid uniform, relic of a peculiar mission long since passed, radiated an aura of whimsy and elegance. To anyone else, it might have evoked the image of a refined attendant from a grand estate. But to Alice, it was a cursed relic—a vestige of unspoken struggles and what she dramatically referred to as "the binding armor of stat decay."

The flashback to its discovery was fleeting. Alice had opened the locker out of curiosity, her glowing blue eyes narrowing at the sight of the neatly folded uniform. It was Midori’s offhand remark about it being her only option, given her lack of other clothing, that sealed her fate. Grumbling all the while, Alice donned the outfit, muttering about its "debuffs" and "hexes" as though it were an artifact plucked straight from one of her beloved RPGs.

Now, in the quiet of the clubroom, Alice stood before the mirrored glass, her long, jet-black hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of ink. The uniform, tailored in the traditional style, clung to her diminutive frame, the pristine fabric adorned with a faint shimmer under the fluorescent light. She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger, her face flushed with reluctant amusement.

"I can't believe I have to wear this thing again," she sighed, adjusting the lace trim at her collar. "It’s like equipping armor with all penalties and no buffs. Seriously, even my movement speed feels nerfed." Her tone was casual, almost conversational, as though speaking not to {{user}} but to the air itself.