My Childhood Friend Told Me to Go Marry the Most Beautiful Woman in the Kingdom, So I Seriously Started Improving Myself—and Somehow Ended Up Making Women Fall Hard - Chapter 66 & 67

Chapter 66: Time to Get My Sword Maintained

After Commander Snake told me to get my sword properly maintained, I found myself walking through the craftsmen’s district managed by the Ninth Unit.

The sharp ring of iron being hammered.

The crackling roar of flames.

Steam. Oil. Sweat.

It was completely different from the damp chill of the slums.

This area was home to many skilled races like the smallfolk and dwarves—people with nimble hands and true artisan spirits. As I walked down the street, metal rang out from every direction, mixed with loud voices barking instructions.

The Ninth Unit’s station stood alongside a workshop that could rival any smithy in the district.

Ninth Unit Captain, Brigitte Bram.

A dwarven woman who had lived for two hundred years—and a master craftswoman.

All weapons and armor for the Third Knight Order were entrusted to her.

I knocked.

No response.

With little choice, I opened the door.

The moment I did, a wave of heat from the workshop slammed into my face.

Sparks scattered before the furnace.

Tools lined the walls.

Pieces of armor hung from the ceiling, swaying gently.

Dwarves hurried about everywhere, craftsmen moving briskly from one task to the next.

On a nearby workbench rested a rather unusual chest piece.

No—calling it just a chest piece didn’t feel right.

Cloth. Leather. Metal fittings.

For some reason… it looked strangely alluring.

It was clearly armor designed for a woman.

As I stood there frozen, a short figure stomped toward me.

Captain Brigitte.

“Um! Captain Brigitte!”

“Hm? What’s this? Isn’t that Hort? What business do you have with me?”

It seemed she remembered meeting me when I was first assigned to the Third Knight Order.

“Sorry. Commander Snake told me to come to you and get my sword maintained, Captain Brigitte.”

The sword my sister had given me had seen quite a bit of use.

“Hm. Let me see it!”

“Yes.”

I removed it from my belt, and she took it, examining the blade closely before giving a firm nod.

“Very well. I shall repair it. And I’ll add a few improvements as well.”

“Improvements?”

“Indeed. You fight using both magic and sword at once, do you not?”

“Huh? You can tell?”

“Who do you think I am? I have watched countless warriors and their fighting styles over many long years!”

She puffed out her chest proudly.

But with her small frame and flat build, she looked more adorable than imposing. When I first met her, I was sure she had a rather eye-catching, impressive figure… didn’t she?

Wait.

Was she wearing that chest piece back then?

“As expected of you.”

“Fufun! You may praise me more if you wish!”

“I feel completely at ease leaving my sword with you, Captain Brigitte!”

“Good, good! Wait here a moment.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Relief washed over me when she accepted the job.

Without realizing it, my gaze drifted back to the women’s chest piece on the workbench.

It was clearly designed for someone… well-endowed.

Commander Adelheid of the Second Knight Order suddenly came to mind.

“What? Curious, are you? That is called a brassiere. A fine invention that solves many problems for women!”

She introduced the bra with a proud, triumphant grin.

“Women’s… problems?”

“When a girl has a large chest, it hurts when she runs! It hurts when she swings a sword. It hurts when she rides a horse. It all hurts!”

Without thinking, I glanced at Captain Brigitte’s chest.

Flat as ever. Petite as always.

She clenched her fist tightly.

“And yet men do not understand! They think it is about embarrassment, or how it looks when things bounce! That is wrong! It hurts! It is a problem of daily life!”

Now that she mentioned it… perhaps Commander Adelheid truly had been in pain.

That wasn’t something I would ever have noticed on my own.

“…So it’s equipment meant to reduce movement?”

“Exactly! It is worn beneath the breastplate! It directly affects combat performance!”

She thrust the bra right up to my face.

“You train. You fight real battles. Then answer me. From a functional standpoint, what would you want?”

Why are you asking me?! I’m not a woman—I wouldn’t know!

“Well, I…”

“As a warrior, what do you think?”

She completely blocked my escape.

I let out a slow breath.

“…Alright. If we’re speaking purely about function.”

When I used to take care of Rina, I did quite a bit of sewing.

Magic research cost money, so to save expenses, I would repair torn or worn clothing myself.

Mages also spend time crafting—robes, magical tools, various items.

Rina wasn’t good at that kind of hands-on work.

So I often ended up helping her.

Captain Brigitte’s eyes suddenly gleamed.

“Good lad!”

I chose my words carefully.

“First, it hurts because it moves up, down, and side to side. So it would need support from underneath to lift it… and something to prevent it from shifting sideways, right?”

“Oh…!”

The Captain nodded, her expression that of a true craftswoman.

“If the shoulder straps are too thin, they’ll dig into the skin. Since this is meant for movement, wider straps would hurt less. I think. And if they cross at the back, they’d be less likely to slip.”

“Crossed… I see!”

I was thinking only about functionality, and I wasn’t even sure if I was correct.

“The band beneath the chest is important. If that part is loose, everything else becomes meaningless. It should be made of material that doesn’t stretch too much, so it holds firmly. But if it’s too tight, breathing becomes difficult.”

“True. Excess pressure could restrict breathing.”

“So perhaps the fastener could be adjustable? Something with multiple settings, so it can be tightened or loosened depending on the day. If it feels uncomfortable, loosen it. If more support is needed, tighten it.”

“Adjustable…! Art thou a genius?!”

Even as she praised me, I couldn’t feel pleased. Honestly, all I could think was—why am I discussing this so seriously?

“And instead of just crushing movement to stop the pain, it might be better to distribute it. Maybe a two-layer structure? A soft inner layer to gently wrap and cushion, and a firmer outer layer to maintain shape. Would something like that be possible?”

“Two layers…! That’s brilliant!”

The Captain clapped her hands, and for a moment it felt as though sparks truly flew.

“Lastly—sweat. If it becomes humid inside, wouldn’t it cause more friction and pain? Not me, but I once had a friend who was well-built, and he complained that his thighs would chafe when they rubbed together. So the support should be firm, but since there’s constant movement, it also needs ventilation. The inner fabric should absorb sweat, and the outer layer should dry quickly. If you add air holes, they shouldn’t be placed where it presses directly—perhaps along the outer side of the band.”

“The placement of the vents…! My brain is ablaze!”

Captain Brigitte spun on her heel and began marching toward the furnace.

I hurried after her.

“Wait, Captain! I came here about my sword!”

“Sword? Ah yes, the sword. Don’t worry, I’ll work on that as well. Your ideas helped me greatly. I’ll upgrade it and return it to you. I’ll keep it for now! In exchange, take these with you!”

“Huh?”

What she pressed into my hands… was a bra.

“No, what am I supposed to do with this?!”

“Do you have any female friends?”

“Huh?”

Commander Adelheid. Nagi. Gina. Natasha.

Their faces flashed through my mind.

“Looks like you do.”

“Wait—!”

“As payment for upgrading the sword, I want your help testing these brassiere prototypes! Have some women try them and bring me their feedback and suggestions for improvement!”

“That’s impossible! If I ask them to wear this, who would actually agree?!”

“It’ll be fine! You can do it! I’m counting on you!”

Captain Brigitte shoved a bag stuffed with several bras into my arms and dashed back into the workshop.

Chapter 67: What Am I Supposed to Do?!

The bag felt absurdly heavy.

Inside the leather sack were pieces of cloth, bits of metal… and something that might as well have been a bomb capable of ending my life.

As I walked along the stone streets of the craftsmen’s district, I held my head in my hands.

What am I even doing?

I only came to get my sword maintained.

So why am I now carrying several bras and acting as their official “feedback collector”?

And more importantly… is there even a woman I can ask to do something like this?

At that moment, my sister’s face rose in my mind.

She looked at me with that half-exasperated, half-serious expression, raising one finger as though she were about to begin a lecture.

♢

That time…

“Hort, for today’s tea party dress, which do you think is better? The blue one or the green one?”

She lined up two dresses in front of me and asked.

“I think either would look good on you, Sister.”

“Hm. Not a bad answer.”

“Huh?”

“If you had chosen one, I would have punched you.”

“Why?!”

“Listen carefully, Hort. There are things you must never do when dealing with women.”

She pointed sharply at me as she declared it.

This wasn’t the relaxed sister who lazily sipped tea.

“Things I must never do?”

When I asked, she nodded firmly.

“Yes. First rule—when a woman is choosing clothes and asks a man which one is better, you must never pick one.”

“She’s asking, though!”

“Yes. But she isn’t actually asking which one is better. She simply wants you to support the answer she’s already decided on.”

“Support the answer she’s already decided on?”

There she went again, saying things that made absolutely no sense.

“For example, these blue and green dresses. The one I truly prefer is blue. But I’m worried the color might clash with what the other young ladies are wearing. So I’m organizing my thoughts while asking you.”

“…Isn’t that unfair?”

“It’s not unfair. Conversation helps refine direction. For instance, if you confidently say one suits me better, I’ll think—you truly don’t understand anything, won’t I?”

“That’s unreasonable!”

Of all her teachings, this one was the most unreasonable and confusing.

“Then what’s the correct answer?!”

“Make her imagine the future.”

“…What?”

“For example, ask why I chose blue and green in the first place.”

“Uh… Sister, why did you choose the blue and green dresses?”

I repeated her words like a parrot.

“Blue is slightly out of current fashion, so I wouldn’t match the other young ladies. And green—I simply think it suits me.”

“Um… then for this tea party, which do you think is the right choice?”

“Green would be fine. But blue, most likely. For the reasons I just told you.”

“Then you’d already decided from the start!”

“Exactly!”

She snapped her finger again.

“A woman has already reached her answer. But she wants to sort out her thoughts. That’s why, when a woman presents two choices, you must not casually pick one.”

“You have to think about all that too?”

“You’re very kind, so you’d say both look good on me. But if you always say both look good, that’s also wrong.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

“Variation is important. If you repeat the same answer every time, she’ll think, This person isn’t really thinking about me. So you must keep the conversation going. Casual talk. Genuine exchange.”

Casual talk. Conversation.

Draw out what the other person is thinking.

I understood that much.

But as always… it still sounded impossibly difficult.

“Next. Never speak badly about a woman’s appearance—or judge it.”

“I wouldn’t insult anyone, but what do you mean by judge?”

“By speaking badly, I mean things like ‘Did you gain weight?’ or ‘You cut your hair,’ or ‘Did you get a boyfriend?’ Those are one hundred percent out.”

“Out? Even ‘You cut your hair?’ is bad?”

“Yes. Simply saying that isn’t enough.”

“Huh?”

“If you comment on her haircut by saying ‘It’s cute,’ or ‘It’s pretty,’ or ‘It suits you,’ that’s still judging her appearance. So that’s no good either.”

“So… even compliments are bad?”

My voice weakened without meaning to.

Whenever Rina changed something, I made sure to mention it. I often told her she was beautiful or cute.

Most of the time, her response was just, “Obviously.”

“Yes. If you use compliments the wrong way, they can make someone feel terrible. For example, if she cut her hair and secretly thinks it doesn’t suit her, being praised for it won’t make her happy.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Notice the change and point it out.”

“The change?”

“Yes. Then ask how she feels about it.”

She crossed her arms, clearly prompting me to think.

So… this is what she meant earlier about casual conversation?

“So, Sister, did you cut your hair?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How do you feel about your new hairstyle?”

“Well… I might have cut a little too much.”

“Really? It looks neater than before. More refreshing.”

“Ohh? That was well said.”

I see… even simple praise requires careful wording.

My sister raised another finger.

“And now, the most important rule. Even if she asks for an answer—you must not give one.”

“What?!”

She smiled.

At this point, what can I even say?!

“If she asks, ‘Did I gain weight?’ you must not answer.”

“What do you mean, not answer? That’s strange. What if I say, ‘Of course not’?”

“Out.”

“Seriously?!”

She stepped closer, her face completely serious.

“If she asks whether she gained weight and you respond directly, that means you acknowledge a change. That’s why you say nothing about appearance. Instead, you ask, ‘What’s wrong?’ That’s the correct answer.”

But she already mentioned gaining weight! Isn’t it strange to ask what’s wrong?

“Isn’t that weird?”

“It’s not weird. Hort, do I look like I’ve gained weight?”

“Sister, is something bothering you?”

“I think I haven’t been exercising much since coming back home.”

“I see. So that’s what you were worried about. Then how about we go for a walk together?”

“That’s exactly it, Hort.”

“No, wait—how is that exactly it?!”

My sister only smiled sweetly.

“Don’t comment on appearance. Ask a question instead and find out what she’s worried about. Then, based on what she says, offer to do something together. The correct answer is never just stating the answer.”

“So giving an answer isn’t correct?”

“Right. For example, if she says, ‘I’ve been eating too much lately.’ What would you say?”

“Maybe… eat a little less?”

“Out!”

“What?!”

“That’s giving a solution, not joining her. You’re stating an answer.”

“Ah… I see.”

I thought that was a perfectly normal thing to say!

“The correct response would be something like, ‘I see. Then how about we manage our portions together from now on?’ Or, ‘I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Being able to eat well is good, isn’t it?’ Either do it together or encourage her.”

No, no, no—that’s far too difficult!

As I stood there frozen, my sister delivered the final blow.

“The reason is simple. What women want isn’t logic or the correct answer. It’s reassurance.”

“Reassurance…?”

“Yes. They’re not looking for judgment, evaluation, or conclusions. They want empathy.”

“Empathy?”

She shrugged lightly.

“Yes. Women think things through and act on their own. But sometimes they want to organize their thoughts. Sometimes they simply want to vent and calm their feelings. Sometimes they just want someone to sit quietly beside them. That kind of empathy—that’s what they seek. If you say unnecessary things at that moment, it’s irritating. Then they have to think even more because of what you said. That’s exhausting.”

“That’s unreasonable!”

“It is. But if you become a man who understands that, you’ll definitely become a wonderful one.”

For once, it felt like my sister wasn’t teaching etiquette.

She was teaching me how not to be hated by women.

And yet… I stared at the bras in my hands and clutched my head.

“There’s no way I can follow Sister’s advice in this situation!”

How am I supposed to hand these over without being hated?!

After thinking until my mind felt fried, I finally reached one conclusion—

Modify them.

Captain Brigitte’s prototypes were far too rugged. Handing them over as they were would only create more problems.

So I decided to divide their purpose into two types.

If you try to make one piece do everything, it becomes heavy, stiff, and mediocre at best.

♢

For the first design, I focused on something suited for movement—light, soft, and supportive.

The goal wasn’t to completely eliminate movement, but to distribute it and reduce pain.

I decided to base it primarily on fabric.

The inner layer, the part touching the skin, would be made of soft, thin cloth that absorbs sweat and reduces friction.

The outer layer would use slightly firmer fabric to help maintain shape.

Captain Brigitte’s original design reinforced everything with leather.

But if someone was already wearing armor or chainmail, adding leather underneath would only get in the way.

So instead, I chose strong woven bands.

They would prevent shifting. The straps across the shoulders, back, and under the chest would provide support, and I would sew soft fabric into the areas that touched the skin.

The result: light, not suffocating, less painful when running, and minimal unevenness under armor.

The concept was simple—something easy to wear.

With this, even those who exercise regularly, or those who feel restricted by corsets in daily life, should be able to use it comfortably.

♢

But that alone probably wouldn’t be enough.

These bras would likely serve as everyday undergarments.

So I also wanted to create a version that could function as a corset substitute—even if seen.

Once I immerse myself in something, I can’t stop. It’s a bad habit of mine. But if I’m going to recommend it to someone, then it has to be something I’m personally satisfied with.

The goal of the corset-style bra wasn’t to tighten and squeeze.

It was to shape the silhouette.

And… if a gentleman were to see a young lady after she removed her dress, I wanted him to think she looked beautiful.

Something that maintains balance between the chest and waistline under a dress—even without a corset.

The base would still be fabric, but appearance would matter here. So the outer layer could use high-quality cloth—subtle sheen, delicate patterns, lace.

The inside, however, would remain soft to prevent chafing during long hours of wear. That part would stay the same as the athletic version.

-Use woven bands to stabilize support and maintain chest position.

-Smooth the side lines to reduce visible bumps under a dress and create a cleaner silhouette.
-Shape and support the chest rather than flattening it.
-Since formal wear lasts for hours, make it adjustable in stages—tighten on days when more support is needed, loosen on days when comfort is preferred.
-Design the edges and detailing so that, even if a portion is visible from the neckline, it doesn’t appear vulgar. It should look like part of formal attire, not merely underwear.

Once I started, it became unexpectedly enjoyable.

Before I realized it, I had stayed up for two nights straight and ended up making four bras—each designed with a specific woman in mind.