>>494
Нет.

Epsilon’s mornings start early.
She’s up before the sun rises and stands before a large mirror clad in her negligee.
She only sleeps for three hours. However, her master taught her a technique that removes fatigue with magic while she sleeps, so three hours is plenty for her. Ample beauty sleep.
By only sleeping three hours a day, she’s able to spend the other twenty-one productively.
She takes care of her training and missions, of course, but her number one priority is self-improvement.
That’s why she wakes up early to stand in front of the mirror.
The first thing she needs to inspect are her slime-padded breasts.
Standing before the mirror, she turns the massive slime blobs over in her hands.
Are they bodacious and shapely?
Are they firm yet soft to the touch?
Most importantly, do they look natural?
She absolutely can’t let anyone find out about her padded little secret.
They have to be realer than real, more natural than natural. That’s the standard to which she holds her chest as she inspects the slime.
After almost an hour of rotating and massaging, she finishes her inspection and fine-tuning.
Next, she makes sure her figure is well proportioned.
Does her waist corseted in slime cast an appropriate silhouette?
Are her thickened hips beautiful?
What about the slim plumpness of her butt, the form of her calves…the length of her legs…?
By the time she’s finished all of her checks, the morning sun has long since risen.
She then sheds her negligee, dons a casual dress atop her slime, applies her makeup, and does her hair.
At this point, she’s finally fit to appear in front of others.

“Good morning, Beta.”
“Good morning, Epsilon.”
The exchange is casual. However, neither looks at her comrade-in-arms’ face for so much as an instant.
Their gazes are focused elsewhere—each other’s breasts.
Each of their chests sticks out like a pair of rockets, and they stare at their opponent’s assets as if gazing upon an archnemesis.
Then, they both thrust out their chests.
Each sucks in as much air as they possibly can, projecting their breasts forward to their absolute limit.
This is a battle neither woman is willing to lose.
The protruding boobs and slime smash into each other, then wobble.
“Heh-heh…”
“Rrr…”
Once again, the victor is Epsilon. After all, she’s shaped her slime specifically to beat Beta.