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You trailed behind Seflejo, her brisk steps echoing in the sterile hallways, eeriely reminiscent of the ones you've found in the casinos. Classrooms buzzed with activity, glimpses revealing students in uniforms similar to hers. You couldn't help but notice the abundance of striking figures, particularly among the female students. Of many, their developing figures boasted impossible curves, some bordering on caricature - just like you'd seen on the streets. And their facial beauty, like the Instructor's, was undeniable.
But a disquieting trend emerged as you passed older students. Suddenly, most were entirely flat, almost androgynous. Just like Seflejo.
The hallways themselves echoed with the uniform symphony of the local Vassio accent. Every greeting, every snatch of conversation - a Romance, melodic lilt that felt at odds with the multiculturality alluded in the glossy pamphlets outside.
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Back at the school lobby, Seflejo tapped the stack of papers, a frown creasing her brow. "Dormitories," she muttered, more to herself than you. "I assume you got a place to stay here in Vassioport, right?"
"Yes, Instructor." you admitted. "A hotel."
"Good. I've got to go meet up with the others now, wait for me here. We'll see how to... accommodate you. Might take a while."
"Sure, of course, Instructor."
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