Ranpo Glasses นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I was puzzled—and flustered, because Rum was scrutinizing my face for flaws, and I felt like I had many because I had no time for a meticulous skincare routine. "Contact lens." Rum concluded in the tone of a doctor giving his diagnosis. I blinked furiously. Contact… lens? "You need to ditch those fugly glasses—." "No!" I pushed at him and stood. He swiftly followed suit and grabbed my wrists to stop me from going anywhere. "Did your parents get you those glasses?" "No," I replied almost instantly. "Excellent! They've got no sentimental value. You can lose them—." He tried to take them off me. But I swayed my face back, away from his hands. "No, Rum! Stop it. I need these glasses to see!"

And a platinum signet ring, simple and heavy. “The glasses have a built-up polymer frame,” Anton explained, his tone shifting to that of a product designer. “Near-indestructible. They house a micro-laser capable of cutting through polycarbonate or severing a zip tie. The right temple piece is a localized EMP burst, one-time use, enough to fry non-shielded electronics within a three-foot radius. The ring…” He picked it up. “Pressure-activated. Twice for a distress ping with your exact GPS coordinates, routed to a server only I control. Held for five seconds, and it releases a fast-acting neuro-inhibitor aerosol. Enough to drop anyone in immediate contact.”

She had her eyes closed, but when she opened them, still without her glasses, Renzo couldn't stop looking at her. ‘Lei... Lei è bellissima!! [1]’, he was stunned. Closer up and without that frame, he could see Carina's features much better. Her eyes were slightly slanted upwards. “Ah, you should have those eyes operated on, girl! They are too cute to hide behind those glasses!” Maddie said. “No, please! You’re too kind. And we already struggle to pay for college. It's not possible to pay for the operation. Yet. Who knows, maybe in a few years…”

My adrenaline was still humming. Rosemary Atelier was finally, finally stepping into the international sphere, and for once the world wasn’t looking for a way to knock me down. Ryan sat across from me at the long table in my office, flipping through the contract. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, the ones he only wore when he was focused so tightly the rest of the world blurred out. I loved those glasses. I loved the way he looked in them: sharp, precise, quietly passionate.