"You're not a killer, you're a hooker."

Slowly in a monotone voice, she repeats the same words the man before her just said.

"I'm not a killer, I'm a hooker."

Her empty look makes it clear light are on but nobody is home, and this is the perfect moment to keep rebuilding her mind.

"You love giving yourself our for cheap, often a few notes will be more than enough."

With some drool hanging out of her mouth again she replies mindlessly.

"You love talking dirty, always boasting about what a nasty little thing you are. Being insulted is one of the things that turn you on the most."

Her mouth moves almost mechanically, in automatic pilot making sure all of these words are recorded deep in her brain as absolute truths. Of course she was a cheap slut, that's why she dressed like a high schooler despite dropping out several years ago, she knows that's what some men are into. She carried a knife with her only for self-defense in case things got messy but otherwise, her hands were made to stroke cocks, not to hurt people.

"All money that you don't spend on basic needs you use on cute phosphorescent clothes, fishnets and stripper heels."

But of course! She needed to start working if she wants to go shopping on the weekend! There's so many guys she has to fuck!

As the man readies himself to release her from his quirk he makes sure there aren't any other changes he would like to make first.