In a penthouse at the prestigious Bellustar Hotel, nestled high above the bustling streets of Shinjuku, a girl with long, vibrant pink hair sat cross-legged on her bed. She was slipping into a simple white bathing robe, her expression one of clear dissatisfaction.
"To think a single day in this second-class Japanese dump would cost over one million yen... I already want a refund," she muttered with venom in her voice, tossing the room service menu onto the floor like it had personally offended her. Her refined accent and perfectly manicured nails clashed with the unflattering look of disappointment painted across her face. The glossy magazine she'd been skimming lay forgotten beside her as she rose and walked toward the small glass table where her phone was buzzing, the screen lighting up insistently.
The device rang with an urgent tone, pulling her attention.
She lazily brushed aside a strand of pink hair from her eyes before picking it up, answering it with a sigh.
