"What are you planning to do?" Milan leaned on Fatty's arm, her ample and perky breasts separated only by a thin shirt, giving Fatty a soft and warm sensation.
Sliding his hand into Milan's shirt, Fatty chuckled, "Of course, it's the same as any other [Rampage]."
"Not pretending to be a [Magic Beast] anymore?" Milan glanced at Fatty, slightly twisting her body, her breast's tingling making her feel weak all over.
"It was fine before, with a small unit and mixing one [Magic Beast] into dozens of sixth and Seventh Generation Mechas," Fatty's hand slid down, giving Milan's round, smooth bare buttock a gentle slap, a crisp sound echoed, "But in a group of Twelfth Generation Mechas, mixing one in would be like hiding a tree in a forest, foolish woman."
The repair platform moved to the circular repair station and stopped. Fatty let go of Milan, opened the railing, and walked down the steps to the bottom of the repair station.
