Vil: ...
Vil: MC, was your writer—pardon me, creator—in their right state of mind when they came up with your story? Because the sheer randomness of these details is almost impressive.
MC: I don't know, and it's not like I have any way of questioning that.
Vil: ...
Vil: All right. That makes sense. *reviews the details he’s been given* Let’s see… The genre is clear. That’s one. Your love interests… *pauses* Every last one of them is questionable. And third, why, exactly, are you supposed to have romantic feelings for them?
MC: It was a trend.
Vil: *not amused* In any case, having no proper identity must be rather troublesome. But have you ever thought about—or perhaps imagined—what you’d like to look like? I believe that would be much simpler than waiting around for one to be given to you.
MC: ...
MC: I have given it some thought, but whenever I try, I always fail.
Vil: Oh? Hmm...
Epel: Are we really sure about this?
Rook: Oui, Monsieur Crabapple! Roi du Poison is a true connoisseur of beauty and possesses an unparalleled artistic eye!
Vil: I'm not entirely certain this will work just yet. Still, it would be ideal to give them at least some sense of it.
Epel: Okay...
Epel, Rook, and Vil: ...
MC: Is everything alright?
This is what Vil did to them:
Epel: *to Vil* This is your vision?
Vil: *frowns* Why? Is there something you find objectionable about it?
Rook: It is merely a draft, Monsieur Crabapple! And look—it lasted but a few fleeting seconds!
MC: *everything Vil had done to them disappeared, and they returned to being nothing more than a blank face*
Vil: *looks dejected*
Epel: Thank the Great Seven—
Vil: *glares at him*
Epel: ...
