'Do I look in the mirror too often?' He wondered, and then dismissed the thought, dressing this way felt good, it sent a warm shiver up his spine and made him think back to Bukubukuchagama's burbling slime body and the way the little bubbles popped in her slime form's animation for laughter. The silvery voice was a comforting memory, and dressing this way, with a short skirt and a belly baring top, made him feel stronger and more connected.

'Plus I look good, and since I look good, I guess I can't be looking in the mirror too often.' It put a rare smile on his face, thankfully his body didn't suffer the same effects from alcohol consumption as normal humans, though it did create a pleasant buzzing in his head that was more than welcome. Though when he considered that… 'I do not envy Gazef the hangover he must be enduring after last night. I wonder how it went with Enri? That is two…'

He cut himself off while his hands were running over the smooth fabric of his short black skirt, it was tight against his thighs, providing a constant reminder of what he wore, and that reminder only made him feel better. That warm sense of confidence in his heart was the balance against his own sudden rush of anxiety.

'You know what you were about to say, Momonga. Two who were like your friends. You can't just go about trying to replace them. They're not substitutes, they're their own people. Try to mark them as just new versions of the same, no matter how familiar, and you'll just be disappointed.' A deep welling of sadness formed in his gut and left an ache that caused his knees to shake.

He blinked back tears and forced himself back to his bed, the mattress sank beneath his weight, his hands folded together in his lap, his eyes focused on the richly decorated floor until they closed to shut out the world.

Fond memories that warmed his heart became more bitter than the hard liquor that burned his throat the night before when he drank Gazef under the table. 'How long am I supposed to feel like this?' He wondered and tried to imagine not mourning his friends even if he made new ones.

Momonga's imagination utterly failed him.

However, before he could deepen his morose mind there was a knock at his door. He looked over his shoulder, "Yes?" He asked and shot to his feet, sweat sprang to his body, 'Shit! I can't let them see me like this!' He began tearing through his wardrobe trying to make as little noise as possible while his hands clawed at large, loose robes.

Albedo's heavenly voice reached through the door to tickle his ears. "My Lord, I took the liberty of dispatching the Hanzos out into the surrounding area after Sebas's return, they have made their report, and I have information to share about the surrounding area. I was hoping to make a report to you at once!"

Her palpable longing set a pang through his heart, a pang that wouldn't let him turn her down.

He yanked the robe down over his head and swiftly bound the center, the skirt and top were still on, but now they were fully concealed.

"Y-Ah-Yes of course!" Momonga hastily answered and rushed to the door, he flung it open, she stood before him with her head bowed and her hands demurely folded in front of her waist, the only indication of her emotion was her trembling wings, but their constant shaking told him it was barely suppressed.

"Ah, make your report." Momonga said and briefly ran his hands down the front of his robe, giving it the appearance of simply smoothing out the rich dark and gold embroidered fabric, but in fact in the face of her worshipful sunny yellow eyes he needed his touch of confidence, a reassurance of who he was even while 'disguised' in what passed for normal clothing in Nazarick.

"The Hanzos found a number of small villages and towns, the largest of which is named E-Rantel, though they scouted only briefly it was larger than its residents required. In addition, it has a substantial graveyard, useful if we wish to augment our forces with the dead of this world. Curiously, we found a necromancer at work, though he was left alone for the time being." Albedo cleared her throat and added, "There is a substantial criminal underground in the area, including a group of bandits, observance of a duel between two of them showed that at least one is capable of a kind of martial magic we haven't seen before."

That drove Momonga's worries away in an instant, his collector's instinct rocketed up and his eyes lit up like a green eyed monster. "Was he strong?" Momonga asked, a faint hint of caution scratched away at his enthusiasm, but Albedo only shook her head.

"Nobody detected the watching Hanzo, and the power estimate put him beneath our Hanzo's weakest member. He may be able to grow, or he may remain a worm. His only redeeming virtue is his uniqueness." Albedo said and shook her head, "Forgive me, My Lord, but we found no one to be strong."

Momonga waved it away, "It hardly matters, but I am curious about this one. What about those who surround him?"

"If he is dust, they are lower than the dust. Rabble and trash to be crushed like insects." She might have spit in disgust if it weren't the floors of sacred Nazarick at her feet, from the way she spoke of the bandit rabble.

Momonga gave a sage nod of understanding. "I see. Has he any bond of affection to them we can use to lure him our way?"

"The Hanzo observing them said he cared about only one thing. His swordsmanship." Albedo answered and cocked her head to the side as if observing an unexpected curiosity. "Why something so weak should care about that, I can't imagine."

"Who can say but him? If he loves swordplay so much, let's bring him to us, who knows what useful arts he might bring to strengthen us, even if he isn't very strong himself?" Momonga said it as grandly as he could, putting on his best pose with a hand on a hip and another in front of him, rolling at the wrist as he'd once seen a noble in a holoshow do.

"Your will be done, My Lord." Albedo promised and gave a little bob at the knees in deference.

"Oh, and what was his name?" Momonga asked just as she stepped back to see his will executed.

"He was addressed by the others as 'Brain, Brain Unglaus, My Lord." Albedo answered, and when he nodded and committed the name to memory, Albedo took it as dismissal, closed her wings in front of herself, and withdrew to carry out her master's will.