4 I make everyone else ugly.

I may be a man inside but I'd never be caught dead looking like a hobo. So the first order of business is to get this body some decent clothes.

I'm walking around wearing and oversized coat but I guess this pretty face is still too pretty for this dirty, dank city so I'm getting a lot of unwanted attention.

"Yo! Baby! You lookin' for some fun tonight?"

"Damn, that ass is fine!"

*Whistles

I had to fight the urge to kick ass. I feel like a piece of meat. Men are such assholes.

I swear this is punishment for me being a jackass to women before.

"You can't really blame them, you're pretty hot."

I glare at Grizz and he steps away from me.

Yeah, I've seen this body and it's quite eye catching, but seriously? I look like I'm wearing a potato sack but men still find me attractive.

Being an assassin, I have learned to use every bit of advantage that I have at my disposal. That includes my speed, agility and sometimes my good looks. This body definitely has a lot of advantages which I intend to use to get back to my old self.

"Woah. Wait a minute hotness, where are you going?"

Mac, the bartender stepped in front of me checking me up and down. I cock an eyebrow with an annoyed look on my face.

Grizz intervened, "Hey Mac, we're just passing through."

Mac doesn't even look at Grizz and continues to stare at me, "What's your name, darling?"

Grizz butts in again, "Don't you think your girlfriend will have a problem with you trying to meet other women?"

Mac looks at Grizz like he's an idiot, "Fuck man, a girl like Laura should know not to get jealous of hotter women, especially this one." He points his finger at me and tries to touch my chin.

Fuck this.

I swat his hand away and I feel a sting on my hand, damn this weak body! If I had my old strength this guy would be on the floor bleeding in zero point five seconds flat.

I give him a cold stare, "Let me through."

He looks smug and puts his hands on his hips; he bends down so he can look at me directly as he says, "Not until you say you'll go out with me."

Grizz steps in front of me and I knew it's going to get ugly for him. He's a good guy but he's not that good of a fighter so I grab his arm. He looks back at me and I just shake my head.

We need to be smart if we want to make it out of here in one piece. I can't fight in this form. I'll just have to kick this guy's ass some other time.

I pull Grizz beside me and muster up as much calm as I can and give Mac the best smile I can come up with. He's startled and takes a step back. I don't know if it's because I look good or because I look insane.

I laugh and I fight the urge to shiver at the wrongness.

I bat my eyelashes at him and say, "Sure. Tomorrow night?"

He blinks and just nods, "Sure."

I hold on to Grizz while I pass by Mac waving my fingers and saying, "Bye!"

When we're far enough for him to hear I let out a huge breath that I've been holding.

"Fuck that was hard."

I look at Grizz and see he's beet red, he looks back at me, "You were so convincing. Your laugh sounded like bells or something."

I snort, "What?"

He looks at me seriously, "It's like you put a spell on him."

I laugh, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." I immediately correct myself, "I mean apart from a guy waking up in a girl's body."

He taps on his chin, "You can use that you know, maybe that's your superpower."

I roll my eyes, "Really? I'd rather have my strength than having the ability to make men weak in the knees."

I put that thought aside and look around for the old man's shop – Reginald makes the best clothes in all of Fuel City, he creates masterpieces in leather and I'm his number one customer.

I step inside his shop and breathe in the smell of freshly cut leather. I love this smell.

"What you want darlin'?" the old man comes behind the counter and looks at me through his spectacles. He's thin, very old like ancient old and he's got buck yellow teeth with a balding head. I love this guy.

"Hi Reggie!" I wave at him and smile.

He lifts and eyebrow while wiping the sweat off his forehead, "Hi yourself. You look like you're not from around here."

I put my elbows on his counter and ask, "How so?"

He takes my arm and checks it, "You ain't got no scratches."

I look at my arm, "Well, I take care of myself."

He points at my arm, "Women as pretty as you can't get around here without being roughed up, you must be from somewhere else."

He's got a point; women don't survive well here in Fuel City. Some of them voluntarily scar themselves or put tattoos in very visible places to ward the men away. That's why a lot of women here are raised as fighters or assassins, to protect themselves.

This body looks delicate so I guess that's why this old man thinks I'm not from around here. I realize he must be right.

"Do you know anyone who looks like me?"

I point to my hair, my big grey eyes and he squints, "You look like you're from the Ice City."