I Said Make My Abilities Average! (LN) - Volume 5 - Chapter 38.1

Side Story:

“A Fearsome Fight!” Doll Wrestling 

This is a story of one particular day, back while the Crimson Vow were still enjoying a carefree life as hunters in the capital of the Kingdom of Tils. 

The four were walking the back streets of the capital together, as they always did, when they suddenly came upon a commotion. When they looked closer, they saw that it was a group of several children having a quarrel in the middle of the road. 

“I’m tellin’ you, we’re the ones who always do that job! For you to just swoop in and… Anyway, that’s our job!” 

“And who decided that, huh? I’m pretty sure you guys are the only ones makin’ that claim. Jobs go to whoever can finish ’em the cheapest and the best. It’s the client who decides who’s takin’ on the job, not the ones taking it!” 

“Well yeah, but we’re the ones who always…” 

Apparently, they were having a scuffle over a job. It was at least admirable that the disagreement was over a legitimate job and not pickpocketing or other thievery. Furthermore, the argument that the one side was making was a relatively sound one. That said, the Crimson Vow could also understand the feelings of the other side, who seemed to have been thrown into crisis mode by the first group intruding on a job in which they had a vested interest. 

With this in mind, Mile moved to interject, but Reina was quicker. 

“What are you all doing?! If you keep blocking up the road like that you’re gonna cause a traffic jam! Step aside already!” 

Hearing this, the children looked Reina’s way and immediately replied as one: “Who d’you think you are, flat-chest?!” 

“Burn, O flames of hell! Singe my enemies—” 

“Gaaaaaaah! St-stoooooop!!” 

The street had very nearly become the site of a massacre. 

Seeing how not only Mile, but also Mavis and Pauline, who were clearly adults, moved desperately to interrupt Reina, the children finally comprehended the situation. The four were a hunting party, and Reina was wearing a mage’s garb; the spell that she had been incanting was an incredibly dangerous one; and the children themselves had been only a hair’s breadth from looking death straight in the face. 

They all dropped to their knees, bowing their heads to the ground with a desperate apology: 

“Please forgive uuuuuuuuuuuuuuusss!!!” 

Meanwhile, as per usual, a completely frivolous thought flitted through Mile’s mind: I’ve been seeing a lot of dogeza-style apologies lately… I wonder if it’s becoming a trend…? 

“W-well,” said Reina, “Since you’ve shown some respect, I’ll overlook this just this once… But let me make one thing clear: There will not be a next time. There. Will. Not. ” 

“Y-y-y-y-y-yes, ma’am!” the children answered in chorus. 

By the looks of it, Reina had deemed that venting her anger further would be immature of her and had decided to spare the children. The matter was considered settled. 

In reality, if Mavis and the others had not stepped in when they did, they would very likely have borne witness to a tragedy, so there probably was no such thing as “venting her anger further” here. 

“What’s with that look?!” Reina shouted, flustered, when she noticed the others eyeing her. “I wasn’t really going to fire it!” 

Liar! they all thought, totally unconvinced. 

Well, thankfully, Mile already had a lattice-power barrier ready and waiting, so at least if the others had not stopped Reina in time, it would’ve been all right… Plus, even if she had fired the spell, she likely would have greatly limited the strength of it so that the children just felt a bit of heat. When it came down to it, Reina was not the sort of person who would murder children over a slight. Such a thing would see her executed, or sentenced to slavery at best. 

However, for the children, who were aware of none of this, this seemed to be a grave exchange, and they began to tremble. 

“Ah, they’ve wet themselves…” 

Indeed, just as Mile had noted, several of the children appeared to have wet themselves out of fear. 

“Guess that’s to be expected…” Mile muttered, casting her cleaning magic over the children. The marks and smell vanished, and they were instantly dry, good as new—perhaps even cleaner than they had been before wetting themselves. 

Now that they had involved themselves this far, the Crimson Vow couldn’t just leave the situation unresolved. 

Or rather, it was not that they couldn’t …it might have been because they really wanted to help the children or merely because they thought the situation interesting and were sticking their noses in. 

Either way, the children soon found themselves driven along to a nearby open area by an unforgiving Reina, unable to ignore her commands. 

*** 

“Hm hm, I see, so that’s when the conflict over the clients started…” 

Reina, unfortunately, was a less-than-suitable candidate for extracting information about the situation from the children. It was not that she didn’t know any tricks to make them talk, but rather, that the children were still utterly petrified of her. In order to get the full story out of them, Mile, who was closer to them in age and had an appearance that tended to put others at ease, was chosen as the interrogator. 

These were Mile’s findings: 

One of the two groups of children, it would seem, hailed from an orphanage, and the other group lived on the streets. 

The children from the orphanage wore clothing that was crude but free of stains and properly cleaned, and they were clearly a group. On the contrary, the children from the streets were generally unkempt, wearing filthy garb, riddled with lice, and lacking the mark of any guardian. 

It was because of this that, when it came to odd jobs that were unworthy of the Guild’s time, the children from the orphanage were the preferred hires for tasks that involved direct contact with other people or matters involving food or money rather than the scruffy street urchins. On the other hand, those urchins—who no one would care about should anything happen to them—were perfect for jobs that did not involve other people: dangerous jobs, unsanitary jobs, or even jobs that were borderline criminal. 

Indeed, there was a clear caste system when it came to the world of temporary hires. 

Lately, however, that dichotomy had apparently shifted. 

There had been a transformation in the street urchins (who, in truth, lived in abandoned buildings or underneath bridges so were not so much “street” urchins as merely homeless children). Though their clothes were still ragged, the garments they wore were no longer dirty, and they were cleaning themselves up with water or dust baths. Thanks to a boost in confidence from registering and seeking promotions within the Guild, they were now refusing to take on jobs with criminal elements or otherwise unfavorable conditions, and one after another, they had begun to encroach on jobs that were usually taken by the children of the orphanage. 

They were clean, demanded lower rates than the children from the orphanage, and worked earnestly and diligently. Since they seemed to be concerned about winning brownie points with the Guild, they could be expected not to try anything funny while on a job. Because they knew it would cause trouble for all of their peers if they were to slip up, and because they knew that mistakes would result in penalties from the guild, these children could generally be relied on. 

And then there were the children who were not yet ten years old themselves, whose eyes sparkled with the light of the futures they hoped to someday grasp and who were eternally grateful to be able to take on legitimate jobs without any underlying shadiness. Anyone who had hired them once would come to hire them every time they had an odd job needing doing thereafter; there were even times when people would invent odd jobs just to give them work. 

Plus, the hunters who had grown up on the streets themselves, and those who were lifelong citizens from the capital, were strong backers of this movement. 

The urchins were on the road to being promoted from “creatures no one would mistake for humans” to legitimate individuals, all thanks to one particular “idiot” somewhere out there… 

Of course, there were some who were bearing the burden of this change. Specifically, the children of the orphanage. 

Most children at the orphanage considered themselves unfortunate. They had no parents, they wore shabby clothes, and their rations could not be called anywhere near sufficient. 

Besides helping in the fields that the orphanage tended, they often sought out odd jobs around the city and offered up a part of their pay to help supplement the institute’s thoroughly insufficient operational budget. This way, they could have just a little bit more to eat. 

Lately, however, the number of jobs available around town had dropped drastically. This was because of the street urchins—the street urchins who scrabbled around in such squalor that it made the children of the orphanage look like nobles and kings. 

The orphans’ livelihood was being stolen by those scoundrels. 

The moment they became aware of this, the orphans panicked, plunging headlong into crisis mode. 

The orphans, you see, could not register with the Hunters’ Guild. Were they to do so, word would get around that the orphanage was letting orphans do dangerous work as hunters. Plus, if they were making money as hunters, then there was no reason for them to remain at the orphanage—or at least, no need for the Crown to continue providing them with funding. 

Therefore, anyone who became a hunter had to leave the orphanage. In other words, none of the children who lived at the orphanage were hunters. 

As for the urchins, those who were below the age of ten could register with the guild as G-rank errand boys, while those older than ten could join the guild properly at F-rank. Thus, the urchins, who could either work as hunters or take on odd jobs that did not make it to the guild, held the clear advantage. 

All of which led to the present quarrel. 

“Ah…” the Crimson Vow sighed. 

The four came simultaneously to the same conclusion: there was nothing to be done for any of it. 

“Well! We better be going!” they said, moving to make a hasty exit. 

Suddenly, something seized on to Pauline’s leg. 

“Eeek!” she shrieked, looking down to see eyes swimming with tears. 

“Don’t leave us!” 

Apparently, they were not getting away so easily. 

*** 

A short distance away from the children, the four girls held a hushed discussion. 

“So, what do we do?” asked Reina. 

“What do we do?” 

Even Mile was fresh out of ideas. 

There was a shortage of jobs and an excess of workers, and they couldn’t simply demand that the urchins only do the lesser jobs that they were originally allotted. 

“Even if the orphans don’t work outside of the orphanage, there’s no risk of them dying of hunger. They receive subsidies and donations, and they have their fields to work… The urchins, on the other hand, will starve to death in just a few days if they don’t earn money themselves,” Mavis mused. 

“So, do we just tell the orphans to give it up?” asked Pauline. 

“Hmmmmmm…” 

The four of them pondered. 

After hemming and hawing over the matter for some time, Mile suddenly shouted, “I’ve got it: a conference!” 

“A conference?” the other three repeated. 

“Yes. See, the root of the problem isn’t something that we’ll be able to do anything about in the short term. So instead, we just have to get the orphans and the urchins to get along. If a sense of solidarity forms between them, as fellow warriors fighting to secure a promising future without anyone to care for them, then they’ll come to see one another as close friends, and they won’t fight… 

“Anyway, they need to empathize—or at least cultivate some sympathy for one another. From there, they can make appeals to their shared interests to form a bridge between them, which they can cross together to seek the path toward a wonderful future for them all.” 

As Mile wrapped up her explanation, the others looked stunned. 

“M-Mile, did… did you eat something strange?” 

“Do you have a fever? Pauline, whip up some water…” 

“O-of course! Right away!” 

“Graaaaaaaah!! I keep telling you all, I’m not stupid! It’s not like this was some unexpected stroke of genius!” 

And so, the First Annual Orphan-Urchin Solidarity Conference was established. 

*** 

“Thank you and a warm welcome to all who have gathered here today! This marks the start of the First Annual Orphan-Urchin Solidarity Conference, here in the royal capital of the Kingdom of Tils!” 

Hearing the grandiose title that Mile had given the event, the local hunters, who had heard the buzz and come in their free time to see what the whole thing was about, along with the other observers who had snuck into the crowd in disguise, pulled strange faces. 

“There is plenty of food to go around so please eat your fill. Once your bellies are happy and full, please take a few moments to chat with your peers and see if you can’t exchange information and forge new connections. Such bonds are sure to be of use to you all in the future!” 

How exactly were the orphans and the urchins supposed to forge bonds with one another? And just what information did she expect them to exchange? Which restaurants had the most leftover food at the end of the day? What time they put out their trash? 

The spectators suddenly felt as though they had headaches coming on and began kneading their temples. 

The place they all currently occupied was a church within the capital. The orphanage, which was situated adjacent to the church, was under the church’s administration as well. 

Following the incident in the street, the Crimson Vow had accompanied the orphans back to the orphanage and explained their plans for a get-together to the administrators. Given the reason for the assembly, and in light of the fact that not only would the orphanage not have to pay a cent but that food would be provided for the children to eat all they wanted, the administrators gratefully accepted the girls’ plan. They happily agreed to speak with the church regarding the use of the space, too. 

The church, meanwhile, was not about to pass up a chance to have the orphans—who normally would not be expected to enter the church at all—visit the building of their free will, and readily assented. 

Having secured a space that was even more spacious and stately than she had envisioned, Mile expanded the scope of her plans accordingly, calling on the orphans from the incident on the street to invite others with whom they might be acquainted with as well. 

The other orphans needed little convincing. They needed neither to be told the aim of the gathering nor to be cajoled in the same way as the other children. All these orphans—who did not know what it was like to have plenty—needed to hear was that they would be able to eat their fill, and they were on board. 

Anticipating the results of this invitation, the leaders of the orphanage and affiliates of the church began to spread word of the event around, hoping for donations or other contributions. This was not due to miserly tendencies on their part; they merely wished to rally the rest of the community for the sake of the orphans. 

And finally, the day arrived, the venue so packed with children and spectators that it would have been little surprise to learn every orphan and urchin in the city was in attendance… 

They ate. 

All of the children ate and ate until they were close to bursting. 

Somehow, no matter how much they ate, the food never seemed to run out. As soon as it seemed that the platters were beginning to go empty, a snap of the fingers brought out new plates, overflowing with fresh morsels seemingly out of nowhere. 

There were some who might claim that the plates had “appeared out of thin air,” but no one would believe that. Even with a reasonable amount of storage magic, producing plates overflowing with food without spilling anything—and moreover, without them going cold—would be patently impossible. 

It was not only the quantity of the food that was astounding but the taste as well, with flavors that far surpassed even that which they had eaten on any festival day in their lives. Although they had been told to socialize in addition to eating, there was no stopping any of the children until they were stuffed to the brim. 

“Say now, Chief of Finances… Is that rock lizard I spy?” 

“Yes, so it would seem.” 

“And down there, is that a whole roasted deer…? Just how many tens of gold pieces do they intend to let these urchins gobble down?” 

“They appear to be intent on using up more in a single day than the Crown allots to the orphanage in an entire year.” 

“……” 

Once everyone had finally eaten all they could, and the children were stuffed and happy, Mile’s voice rang out again: 

“Now then, it’s time for the games to begin!” 

Naturally, just serving up food and compelling the children to talk to one another would not make for much of an event. Even Mile wouldn’t overlook such a fundamental fact. 

In fact, Mile, who had always been an outsider when it came to cultural festivals and other school events in her previous life, was not going to let a chance like this slip by her. No matter what, she was determined to take part in the games she had planned. That was the root of her motivation. 

“Without further ado, we invite you to participate in our Doll Wrestling tournament—‘DolWres,’ for short.” 

At that, four small figures, each around thirty centimeters in height, appeared on the stage that had been erected. 

According to Mile’s explanation, sufficiently amplified throughout the venue using wind magic, the four were small-scale golems known as “Dolls.” Those who aimed to utilize these techniques as a means of warfare disguised it as a game and planned an exhibition of skills, hoping to steal the Doll techniques of other countries for their own. In order to put a stop to that plan, one heroine who fought in the name of justice arose. 

The Dolls were operated by their owners’ verbal commands. 

“Ogar, fight!” 

A doll in the shape of an ogre, dressed in the trappings of an infantryman—the super heavy-weight, power-type fighter known as “Devout Soldier, Ogar ” —stepped forward. The operator, playing the role of the ringleader of the evil organization, was Pauline. 

“Go, Beast King Marl!” 

The fighter controlled by Mile, the heroine of justice, was a speed-type Doll in the shape of a beastman, called “Beast King Marl.” 

Choosing to have the beastman be an ally of justice was just one facet of Mile’s stealthy marketing scheme to promote the social standing of beastpeople, for the sake of young beast-eared girls the world around. 

And then, to serve as assistants for both sides, two more fully automated Dolls appeared. 

On the enemy side was Zenio, a Doll who had the looks of a secretary, with fox ears and a tail to match. On Marl’s side was Marcy, a maid with feline features. 

And then, the true battle began. 

Power versus speed. Destructive blows versus skillful slashes. Both sides taking hit after hit, energy slowly dwindling. 

During the breaks in the match, Zenio and Marcy stepped in to administer first aid to any damage done to the other Dolls and resupply them with power. 

However, owing to his lightweight construction, the heavy damage soon began taking its toll on Beast King Marl, and he found himself in grave danger. 

Yet just when it looked as though it was the end for the champion, suddenly, riding atop her noble steed, appeared Cherry, the lightweight princess knight Doll. It appeared that she had no assistant, but the moment she dismounted, her steed stood upon its hind legs and transformed into the humanoid assistant Doll, Raging Speeder. 

“I know much of your deeds, Beast King Marl. I’ve come to your aid!” 

Naturally, the puppeteer behind Cherry was Mavis. 

In truth, Reina had wanted to play the part as well, but Mavis had begged on her knees, so the role was hers. It was abundantly clear that one who aimed to be a knight, as she did, would never let such a chance slip through her fingers. 

With Cherry bursting onto the scene, the match now became a three-sided battle royale. 

The children were thrilled. 

The adults were speechless. 

This was hardly surprising—none of them had ever witnessed such a spectacle. 

Also, there was that particular bit of Mile’s patter about “those who aimed to utilize these techniques as a means of warfare.” 

They could not help but think about what might happen if these Dolls were constructed at human size. Or worse yet, larger still—the size of rock golems? And then if they really were used on the battlefield? 

A cold sweat ran down the backs of all the invited guests’ necks. 

The Dolls before them moved only on command from their human handlers, one action at a time, but in truth, their bodies were being moved independently via the nanomachines. Thanks to a prior discussion with Mile, a temporary contract of authority had been established so that, within permissible bounds, the nanomachines would obey and enact each of the Doll’s user’s directions. Naturally, this had only been accomplished through a detailed discussion with the nanomachines ahead of time. 

Normally, Mile assiduously avoided calling upon the nanomachines in her everyday life or her work as a hunter for frivolous purposes, but she figured it was probably fine for a one-off occasion such as this. 

She would never bring them into her work or private matters, but if it wasn’t for work, but rather, for charity , then it was fine, wasn’t it? 

That was her thinking—and the nanomachines went along with it. They were delighted at the chance to do “something interesting,” an opportunity that presented itself only very rarely for them. It seemed that news of the event had already proliferated via the nanomachine network across the entire world… 

“Why do you take up arms against us, Beast King Marl?!” 

“Why, you ask? One needs not a reason to fight in the name of justice! Why do you sully your hands with such foul deeds?!” 

Naturally, the ones speaking the lines were not the Dolls themselves, but their handlers, Pauline and Mile. 

“Bwahaha, then I might say the same to you. Does one need a reason for which to do evil? Dare I say: because it’s fun? Counting up all the money you’ve earned is simply delightful! Haaahahahaha!” 

When it came to the role of a villain, Pauline was a natural. 

“Both gold coins and the lives of men must be spent wisely!” the princess knight Cherry interjected. “What is the worth—where is the meaning?!—in hoarding your coins and living a life without purpose?! I will show you how my spirit burns!!” 

With that, a fierce battle raged once more between the three, and the crowd—children and adults alike—went wild! The adults, seeming to forget that this event was for the sake of the children and that they were merely present as spectators, joined in the cheering, a great clamor spreading throughout the hall. 

And Mile, watching as the battle continued to rage atop the stage, thought to herself that it was time to begin the final showdown… 

Ka-shink! 

Tumble… 

“Oh…” 

Ogar’s sword struck Cherry’s breastplate, and it went clattering to the floor. Suddenly, Cherry’s naked chest was in full view. 

There was nothing else beneath to hide her breasts, which were now dewy with moisture. No shirt, no undergarments—

nothing. 

And, for some reason, they were sculpted in full detail. 

The adults stared in shock, the young boys with intense interest. The girls stomped upon the boys’ feet. 

“She’s braless!! It’s over! This match is oveeeeeer!!!” 

Now, granted, they were quite different from the garments that Mile knew back on Earth, but this world did still have items that ladies wore over their chests. In her mind, Mile referred to these garments as “bras,” and in her panic, the word had slipped out. 

Despite her peculiar choice to give the female Doll such a well-sculpted bosom, Mile had not included any garments for her chest. She simply had not thought that far ahead. 

Even though she was a Doll, having Cherry continue to fight half-naked would absolutely be sending the wrong message to the children. Therefore, Mile decided to call the match to an immediate stop rather than waiting until the final blow was struck. 

Plus, it would be unforgivable to continue such a scandalous spectacle in the middle of a church, at an event that had the church and an orphanage as its sponsors. 

“But whyyyyyyyy?!” Mavis cried out, devastated that her grand finale had been so abruptly cut short. Her protests were ignored. Mile, in a great hurry, used her superior authority to issue a command to withdraw to the nanomachines who had been entrusted with making the Dolls move, and the figures all shuffled away into storage—after the nanomachines controlling them had cleared out, of course. 

One of these days, Mile would have to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with the nanomachines who had participated today, in order to apologize and recognize their services. 

In fact, at the moment, Mile was sitting on the ground having a conversation inside her head with the nanomachines. With her eyes closed, it looked from the outside like, rather than participating in a conference, she had dozed off. Other than the nanomachines who lived in the strands of Mile’s hair, most nanomachines rarely had a chance to contact her directly, and so a lively exchange was in progress. 

*** 

After that, the gathering came to a lackluster end. 

This did not mean it had been a failure. In fact, it would not be out of the question to label it a huge success. 

Following the wardrobe malfunction, the adults who had come to observe took to the stage, putting on their scariest faces and ordering everyone to keep their lips sealed about what they had witnessed today—and so the “DolWres” incident became a secret, known only to those who had been present in that room. 

The children were dying to talk about the astonishing spectacle, but as it turned out, the only ones they could talk to about it with were the other urchins and orphans. 

The shared secret granted them a sense of camaraderie and connection. 

By a means that she never expected, Mile’s aim was accomplished. 

Furthermore, the sponsors who had been in attendance, now realizing that the orphans had a group of considerable wealth and skill to assist them, increased their contributions to the institute in the hopes of strengthening their connection to Mile and her cohort. 

Grants from the Crown then increased severalfold as well, the royal family stating that it would be remiss of them to let support from private citizens outstrip their own. Of course, in truth, they too secretly hoped to appeal to the Crimson Vow, but the girls themselves were entirely oblivious to this. 

Later, a messenger from the “invited guests” appeared, asking a slew of questions in regard to the Dolls. In response, he received a slew of answers: The dolls had been discovered within the ruins of a faraway country, and they had no idea how they were constructed; no, they only moved if the operator was within ten meters of them; no, they would only respond to the commands of the first person to command them; no, it was impossible to reassign operators; yes, but when, previously, they lent one to a magical researcher who wished to study them, the next day that researcher’s atelier was blasted apart by an explosion, et cetera, et cetera—until, disappointed, the messenger gave up and returned home, dragging his feet all the way. 

One day, Mile and the others were walking down the back roads of the city when they again encountered the urchins from before. 

“My, you all look well! How is work going for you?” Mile asked. 

The children grinned and replied, “It’s goin’ great. Those guys at the orphanage have gotten all these grants and donations now, so they’re livin’ comfy. Plus, we’ve completely moved outta the odd job business around here, so that seems like it’s pretty good for them, too. Well, it probably sucks havin’ to fend off all the guys that want them to do dodgy or illegal things, but we definitely don’t take on that sorta stuff anymore…” 

“Whuh…?” 

Well, this was new. Having been unaware of such a shift in the world order, the Crimson Vow were unable to mask their shock. 

“W-wait, how did this…?” 

Seeing the shock upon Mile’s face, the boy who was speaking mirrored her expression with one of equal surprise, asking, “What are you talkin’ about? It’s all thanks to that get-together you put on. Apparently, just afterwards, the orphanage started gettin’ a bunch more money comin’ in. All the adults who were watchin’ started givin’ ’em lots. 

“As fer us, we got a chance to build our own reputations and abilities as hunters on our own two feet, not relyin’ on anyone else. We don’t need those odd jobs around town when we can go huntin’ and gatherin’ out in the fields and take down little monsters and such… Well, to be truthful, it ain’t entirely all on our own. It’s all thanks to our Big Bro and our Lady of Grace.” 

The girls had no idea who the boy meant by “Big Bro” or “Lady of Grace,” but it was clear to them that there were those in this world who had lent their strength to these urchins. How splendid. How splendid indeed… 

Later, when the urchins returned to the abandoned shack that served as their lair, they gave their report to Big Bro. 

“We saw the Lady of Grace earlier.” 

“I see.” 

“She’s lookin’ as cheerful as always. Honestly, I can’t imagine her not lookin’ that way.” 

“I see.” 

“What’s this, ‘I see, I see’? Are you really okay with not ever seein’ her? Even when she came to check in on us, you just hid away and didn’t even call out or anythin’ before she left! If you keep slackin,’ some other guy’s gonna snatch her away!” 

“I see… That would be bothersome, wouldn’t it?” 

“So hurry up and go talk to her…” 

At their urging, the youth known as “Big Bro” grimaced. 

“It’s not time. I’m still not worthy of her. I need to become a better man fi—” 

“How long are you gonna keep draggin’ your feet on this?!” 

“For as long as I have to. That’s the path to ‘sophistication,’ as I think they’d put it where she’s from.” 

“Sophistication?” 

“Yeah, sophistication.” 

“I don’t get it…” 

At this, the youth only laughed. 

Later, unbeknownst to Mile, a new title had been given to the spectacle put on at the Solidarity Conference: 

“BraWres.” 

Mile herself had in fact labeled the event “DolWres” for short, but apparently, the word she had shouted at the close of the scene, “braless,” had left a far stronger impression. 

Thankfully for Mile, only a very small portion of the population was even aware of the name, and so after a while, it slipped away into the dark corners of history. There it died, the hapless originator of the term never the wiser…