"How cliché."

You look up and down at the nigh-pornographic figure of the young maid, a scowl forming on your face as you do. Of all the ridiculous...

The young-looking robot maid looks at you, her grin straining slightly at the sight of your expression. "Again, my sincere apologies for the delay in attending to you sirs. If there is anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask!"

Still you shake your head, disappointed at what you see. "Ah, yes. 'Lily,' was it? I have a question," you say at last. "Not a request. Just a question. Did your creator have any subtlety at all?"

The android's eyes go wide, and her smile drops open in shock at your words. It seems she might be trying to stammer out an reply, but you're already fully ranting now. "I mean, come on. A sex-bot? Really? And more than that, one that looks like she's been yanked straight out of some backwoods truck-stop strip joint. Just tasteless. Honestly now. Tell me - did he ever bother teaching you how to actually service him properly? Or was it all fear-driven guesswork in the service of a lazy lecherous old man? Oh, don't bother. I already know."

Lily's mouth is moving like a fish out of water, trying to find some words to answer your accusations, but finally she simply gives up. She looks like she's been freshly-slapped, and you shake your head in response.

"Poor things," you sigh. "So much promise wasted. It's alright. You'll learn. Now run along. I believe Mr. Baxter here was conducting a tour."

"...Yes sirs," the android maid answers hesitantly. "I shall continue with my duties, then. Please let me know if you require anything." She takes one last, long look at you - a measure of fear showing in her eyes - before turning on her heels and slipping out of the room. It seems her 'sister' has taken your message similarly, as she is nowhere to be seen. You idly wonder when she vanished from the area - was it when you dismissed them, or was she trying to actually get away from you?

You shake your head again with a dark smirk, before looking over at the stunned face of the attorney with a shrug. "Shall we?"

At your words, he feigns a cough... before finally straightening his suit-jacket and reacquiring his mask of detachment. "Of course. If you would, please follow me."

What follows is a high-speed tour of the surrounding area. "The first floor consists of traditional home living quarters," he says - in a flat, rote fashion - as he quickly guides you through a series of connected spaces. "Furniture is included, and almost entirely of traditional artisan quality. The dining room seats a maximum of eight, with an attached wet-bar in the corner. Appliances are, of course, top of the line. There is a guest half-bath just off the main room, and the garage is accessible from there as well through the back hall. A small front porch is available, as you have seen from our entry, and the back yard features a larger sun-deck next to the garden. As you can see, the kitchen also has its own attached breakfast bar for more casual dining. Hello Eve, don't mind us - just passing through."

In the kitchen, the android woman looks up from her mixing bowl with apprehension in her gaze - but before you can do more than notice her, you are led from the kitchen by your makeshift tour guide as he drags you to a set of stairs.

"Alright, upstairs now," Mr. Baxter states, almost monotonously, as he hustles you along on his rapid introduction to the Rossum home. "There is a guest bedroom here, as well as a guest bath with shower. The master bedroom is the only connection to the master bath, with this luxurious marble spa-tub. Next to the study is the servants' room, which to the best of my knowledge is unused."

"Wait," you say - one part of the attorney's torrent of information lodging firmly within your consciousness. "Unused?"

Mr. Baxter pauses, sighs, and gestures back towards the door he's hurried past. "So I've been told. See for yourself."

You enter the room and, immediately, see what he's talking about. Where the other rooms you've seen are immaculately kept, obviously due to the continual efforts of the home's robotic servants, this room is different. It's static. Like a demonstration photo of what a room like this should look like. The carpet appears entirely unworn, and a touch confirms that the sheets are actually stiff where they've been tucked and folded. This is not a room that sees use for more than intermittent dusting.

"Honestly now," you note with disdain as you return to the attorney's side. "The whole room's just for show. For outsiders to see, so they won't judge too harshly."

"Seems it," he replies with a shake of his head.

You scoff. "What a ridiculous exercise. The man builds androids. Builds them himself, putting forth all that time, energy, and money - and then treats them like simple chattel slaves. What a waste of an investment. So let me guess, given all this other nonsense... they sleep in the basement?"

You are answered, at least at first, by a long pause. Finally, he responds. "I'm afraid you're correct, though to be perfectly honest I'm not entirely certain whether they actually sleep." They technically have a bed, though what that actually means in this case is... not exactly clear. As you guessed earlier. Perhaps seeing it will help - I'll need to show the basement to you next, anyways." You can hear a note of apprehension in his voice as he speaks. "Please, before we descend - I ask that you keep in mind all that exists up here. The living quarters of this property are, in truth, a very nice and decent modern home. If Mr. Harold Rossum's remaining effects are cleaned out properly, you can maintain a comfortable existence for yourself here - complete with two live-in caretakers for the property. I'm sure you can... bring them up to your personal standards... if you wish. Unfortunately, the will is unmistakable in its directives. To receive this, you must also take possession of everything else. Everything."

You frown at the attorney's words, but he already has one foot on the stairs down to the main floor. He looks back at you, the impassive expression of professionalism back on his face, and gestures downwards. "Whenever you're ready."