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Part 1
Lunchtime.
If it were any other day, it was the time to run to the cafeteria like a lemming sprinting towards a nearby lake, gobble down the lunch, and partake in a merciless territorial dispute for the school fields that resembled the history of Korea in the third~seventh century.
But today wasn't the day for such happiness; again I found myself walking towards the infirmary, feeling like I've chewed on a bug while eating.
...Please excuse me if this situation sounds familiar.
Really, if not for Seo Yeonji, why would I deny myself my own lunch break to take a trip to the infirmary on such a fine day? I'd have to be insane to go by my own will.
We got the club room, we had a party, and we finally started to have decent club activities-- so what's the problem, you ask?
...You should know what I had in my hands at the time: a bunch of random c.r.a.p that I've been moving with all my effort. There were consoles like the PX3, PX2, along with their various games, light novels and manga, animation DVDs, and even a few board games. They were items that could be summarized as 'Otaku goods' which were like oxygen to us Otakus.
Regardless of whether they're supposed to be oxygen or nitrogen or whatever, having to carry so many, I felt like I would keel over at any moment.
The reason why I was put under this undue stress traces back to the letter that I received from Yeonji this morning...
...And that's what happened back then.
After that initial rip on the box, it started to break down even further. I was forced to throw away the box near the infirmary, and so I've been carrying only its contents.
'This is seriously annoying! I never had the time to have my lunch, too.'
Incidentally, Yeonji never specified that I needed to move everything before the end of the lunch break! I felt a little sorry for the security guard (nothing to be said for Yeonji) but I decided that I should move everything after school instead.
I honestly didn't care if Yeonji was actually going to try and execute me by impalement or whatever. She can do whatever she wants!
I opened the door to the infirmary with growing apathy. I put down the items that had caused immense pain in my arms, wiped the sweat off my head, and announced my entry in front of the club room.
"I'm coming in-... ...?"
I turned the door handle, only to find the door locked tight.
It was not unusual for it to be locked, but I knew that, earlier today, the nurse had left the door open with an unwelcoming face after she had learned that I was tasked with bringing Yeonji's games into the club.
I faced the door to give it a knock, but then a written note on the door caught my eye.
'Out of office'
"..."
What kind of business could she have outside of the infirmary? Such unfortunate timing, too.
'Well, she's not the type to spend a lot of time outside of her room, so she'd be back soon. I should get some rest on a bed in the mean time.'
With that thought, I began finding a hiding spot for the items that I had practically threw down on the ground.
But suddenly,
'*Knock knock*'
The most unfortunate noise echoed from the entrance of the infirmary.
"Wha...?!"
I reflexively turned around and saw a shadow looming on the opposite side of a translucent window. Add that fact up with the knocking from before... Was that a stranger outside?!
Thinking logically, neither the nurse nor Yeonji would bother to knock; the nurse essentially owned this place, and Yeonji simply lacked the courtesy to do so.
Then, the person outside was neither of the two... but someone completely unrelated to Clotaku Club!
To a.n.a.lyze the situation at hand:
1. All the Otaku goods from Yeonji were in plain sight on the floor.
2. There was an outsider about to enter the infirmary.
3. And if I were to be seen here with them... Oh, boy.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!--!"
I immediately began hiding the Otaku goods as I let loose a loud scream. I need to hide them quickly!
The looming shadow outside remained quiet, likely because no one answered the door. If I did not fully hide these cursed things in the mean time, my closeted Otaku life was going to meet an explosive end.
"... ..."
But... where was I supposed to hide them? The club room's door was locked, and there were no suitable containers in sight.
The front door began to slide open.
'Waah-! Wait! I don't know who you are, but just wait! Just give an extra knock or two on the door- how impatient can you get?!'
Before that thought began forming in my head, my body was springing to action.
Faced with a life-threatening crisis, I instinctively jumped off the ground and leapt for a bed. I hugged the Otaku goods as I dug into the bed, pulling a blanket over my shoulders.
'With this, maybe I could pa.s.s off as a 'Random Male Student 1'...'
Cold sweat dropped from my body. I hid myself with such speed that I never knew I could reach, yet the distance to the bed was great enough that the person outside could have seen me leap.
'I am a random student, I am a random student, I am a random student...'
'*Clack-clack-clack...*'
A gentle sound of footsteps pa.s.sed by as I chanted a mantra to myself. Following that noise was '*tap-tap-tap*', the sound of polite knocking. No doubt remained that the person was not Yeonji; If she ever had to knock, the sound would rather be '*bang bang*' or '*crack*'.
After the knocking, silence persisted for some time. Perhaps the person found the memo stuck on the door.
As if to prove I was right, the same sound of footsteps filled the room once more. But the noise did not move towards the front door; instead, the noise was growing in intensity, approaching my direction.
'Ah- oh, G.o.d, I'm so dead.'
I hugged the items in my arms even tighter. If I were to show myself to a random stranger in this state...
... Let's just say, it was a scene that I wouldn't even share it with another Otaku.
With complete disregard to my train of thought, the footsteps continued to near my location. I closed my eyes in fear.
"Hmm?"
It was an unfamiliar voice.
The voice, which carried a hint of interest or perhaps curiosity, was definitely neither from Yeonji nor the nurse. It was a beautiful, clear voice, as if it could only be produced by drinking the morning dew, yet it resounded with authority and power.
The back of my head grew itchy; I could feel the owner of the voice fixing a gaze in my direction.
'What are you looking at? If there's no movement, it's obviously a simple corpse. I'm supposed to be dead, so if you could just leave me alone...'
--But to actually vocalize that comment proved impossible, since my stressed heart and lungs refused to cooperate.
"Huff, huff..."
I did my best to appear asleep, but heavy breaths escaped my lips due to the tension. I was afraid that my loud heartbeats could also be heard.
"... Excuse me."
Something poked at my body from outside the blanket.
Apparently, it was hoping for too much when I believed that I'd still look like I was sleeping after making so much noise; the voice that had called out was directed to someone who was wide awake.
Aw, d.a.m.n it all.
I opened my eyes ever so slightly. In the narrow vision I had, I could see the finger that had apparently poked me.
"...Ahem, cough, cough." I coughed awkwardly.
There was promptly an annoyed response,
"You are very clearly pretending to be asleep, and yet you persist at being ignorant of my presence? ...Are you intending to make a mockery out of me?!"
--Oh.
My body suddenly shook; I was struck with a mysterious, overwhelming feeling from the girl's speech. How should I describe it...? It was a familiar feeling, one that I was sure to have felt before in my life, yet impossible to comfortably withstand.
Yes, to bluntly describe it--
"Hmph, what do you think you are doing? If you received the honor of being addressed by me, you should at least have the manners to face me properly! It is regrettable that the only man here is an uncultured brute."
...It was the feeling of proxy embarra.s.sment. I cringed by bodily reflex, my throat began to itch, and I felt the ends of my fingers and toes roll inward. Dry, hacking coughs followed.
I turned around with the motion of a robot.
Standing in front of me was a lone girl.
Her eyelashes made a sharp, wide curve on her face as if to hint her personality, accompanied by her smooth, white face that was creased only with an expression of anger. Her pointed nose and her puffy lips added maturity to her face that was incomparable to an average high school student, and her shapely physique added up to a certain display of beauty.
She stood, hands mounted on her thin, curved waist, looking down at me like a great lioness standing over her fallen prey; I felt almost intimidated.
And, on top of all that--
The girl's hair was perfectly golden.
"...Uh, wha--?"
Witnessing that oddity, I sat, stunned.
No, seriously, that really was blonde hair.
Compared to other schools, our school imposed a relaxed dress code (anything goes as long as you work hard) but dyeing your hair was strictly forbidden. So, what explains her golden hair?
'Wait, no, maybe that's her natural hair! A foreign exchange student, or something inherited from an English parent? Wasn't that kind of character trait only found in games?'
"Sigh-."
As if to make light of my surprise, the girl elegantly brushed her golden hair aside with her smooth hands. In contrast, her face displayed anger.
"How rude, expressing such surprise whilst beholding my visage! Have you lost your mind after gazing at my beauty? You should know your place, peasant."
Uuuuugghhh...
I shook once more at the creeping feeling flowing through the tips of my limbs.
'I... I never thought I'd hear something like that in the 3D world!'
Within the flood of pain so powerful that it could dismember me the moment I lose focus of myself, I realized a critical fact: whether she is a foreign exchange student or a Korean-European or whatever, it was not important.
This girl... is an Otaku!
Her Otaku power level was too great for any natural resistance to fend against it. If I had a Scouter in my hands, her power would have overloaded it, causing it to explode.
As said before, Otakus can easily recognize other Otakus.
At that moment, the Otaku detector within me screamed uncontrollably, indicating that the girl in front of me was, without any need for further confirmation, a pure Otaku.
My body tensed up and froze. I brought all of my attention to the Otaku goods within my arms.
Like the girl had said herself, she was pretty good-looking; no one would want to be seen hugging Otaku goods in front of a cute girl, never mind that she is an Otaku like me.
"E-excuse me, hoow can I heeelp yoouuu...."
I spoke timidly, overwhelmed with a strong desire to get out of the situation. I talked in a very polite tone for some reason.
From a quick glance in her direction, she was a first year student without a name tag just like me... but somehow, it felt natural that I spoke to her in a polite way. What was I going to do if she started going 'How dare you speak to me so impolitely, you ignorant peasant!?'
The girl smiled in satisfaction when I began to grovel.
"At least you are wise for realizing your ignorance sooner. Hmph! I will forgive you. Let me ask one question; where is the supervisor of this room? I will allow you the honor of answering my question!"
Someone, please, unfold my wound-up limbs. At this rate, I'm going to turn into a spiral galaxy!
"I-I don't know. I think she might come back sometime soon-- probably..." I replied, sweating a flood as I held tightly onto the Otaku goods. Even objectively, I looked pathetic.
"Is that so...? What a useless peasant!" cursed the golden-haired girl, frowning. It was difficult to tell whether she meant me or the nurse. Either way, my limbs were beginning to lose their functions. "...Regardless, what are you doing here?"
Despite my silent prayers of 'Please leave if you're done asking questions!' the girl asked with a hint of suspicion. Why are humans such inconveniently curious creatures?
"Huh? Oh, uh... I have a slight stomachache right now... I'm just resting for a bit! Aha-ha, ha-ha-ha."
"--Hae."
The girl let out an anime-catchphrase-like sound and continued to stare in suspicion, regardless of my best excuse.
Then, after some time when I took notice of her bright blue eyes, I became aware of the subject of her attention.
She was looking at the spot right next to where I lay: the obvious mound on the bed sheet, propped up by the Otaku goods.
"...Cough, cough!"
I coughed to create a diversion while I rolled over to cover up the spot. I must have roused her suspicion when I turned around to look at her, revealing what should have remained hidden.
'...She wouldn't try to pull the blanket away while I'm still on the bed, would she?'
"Cough. Cough."
"Hmmm...~?"
As I awkwardly faked my coughs with a growingly red face, I felt the fiery glare from the golden-haired girl attack my back.
Before I had any chance to brainstorm my potential responses to her inevitable question of what was under the blanket, she had already opened her mouth to speak...
"You--..."
'Nooo--!'
'*Rattle-* *Rattle-*'
But then, the infirmary door began sliding open. Then entered the voice of Yu Yeongson, "Is... someone there?"
'Oh, h.e.l.l, that was too close.'
It couldn't have been a better time. The nurse wandered over to us and, upon seeing the girl, greeted her with a tinge of tiredness, "Oh, my... So, it was you."
"How are you, Miss Yu?"
It seemed that the nurse knew the girl.
The nurse's droning voice continued, "...I'm pretty sure I gave my answer for our talk from before. Do you have something else to tell me?"
"I had been on the case myself, but I haven't made much progress. I came here to ask you if you might reconsider."
"Reconsider..." replied the nurse, sounding uncomfortable, "Well, okay... Then, should we talk? Let's go inside first."
"...Excuse me, what about this man?"
"He said he had a stomachache... I told him to rest here for a bit since he had permission from his teacher already. ...Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all."
...How persistent. Even as she gave up and left, it was obvious from her glare that she was still suspicious of me.
"Then, let's go inside. ...Hey, it's almost the end of lunch! You should also get back to your cla.s.s soon."
"...Okay." I spoke hesitantly.
As the nurse left, she pointed under the bed without the girl knowing. I quickly understood what she wanted; as soon as the two disappeared into the inner room, I placed the Otaku goods under the bed and escaped the infirmary. She would take care of the stuff there later.
I amazed myself with how nervous I had become. Sweat covered my entire back. I couldn't imagine what terrible things might have happened if the nurse did not appear at that moment.
...Still, I wonder what was up with that girl.
Reminded of the terrible, judging stare that had bombarded my back side, I suddenly began fearing for my future.
* * *
* * *
After the raging war between Yeonji and I,
Having enjoyed a moment of relaxation with a drink from the refrigerator, I had a chance to ask the nurse, "By the way, who was that girl who came here during lunch?"
I had almost forgotten about it when I was too busy moving the boxes. I remembered the terrible ordeals I suffered because of the golden-haired girl almost finding out about the Otaku goods.
At that time, the only thought racing through my head was that I should escape from the infirmary. In retrospect, however, the nurse and the girl obviously knew each other, so I became curious of the girl's history.
"...'That girl'?" asked Yeonji, rising like a cobra twisting out of a basket.
Why her face had to be contorted at the sound of 'girl' I wanted to ask, but I answered honestly at the fear of losing my only break time by Yeonji's tantrums. "Yeah, I met this girl while I was moving the boxes earlier..."
I didn't feel like explaining in detail, so I gave a summary: golden hair, blue eyes, first year student, and embarra.s.sing tone of speech.
I hoped that Yeonji would not become overly interested if I gave her fewer details. However, her actual reaction was completely unexpected.
"It's the Pubtaku Queen..." muttered Yeonji, making a face like she had a glop of wasabi in her mouth.
I asked, just in case I had misunderstood her, "A what queen?"
"The Pubtaku Queen." Yeonji replied, clearly annoyed. "The culmination of all Otakus of Eunsung. One in a thousand. If the seventh century Silla had Queen Seondeok and Jindeok, the twenty-first century Eunsung High School has the Pubtaku Queen."
I had no idea what any of that meant. Moving away from Yeonji's grumblings, I turned to the nurse for clarification.
"That girl... her name is Eun Yerin--," began the nurse, "And she's easily described as a 'Publicized Otaku' (Pubtaku). She's been famous since middle school; a rumor goes, she brings a maid and a butler with her to school every day..."
"A maid and a butler?!"
They exist in real life?!
"Hmph! That's not the worst part. I heard she brings a tablet just to watch anime in cla.s.s at lunch, and one time, she wore a fancy dress to school instead of the school's uniform! Sometimes, she reads visual novels in the middle of a cla.s.s with a laptop! She also has a weird club that sells doujinshi at every school event!"
Yeonji intervened, telling a story that jumped between a non-fictional biography and a fantasy novel. At that level, it may as well have been a horror story.
"Can... can she really do all that?"
I meant to ask if the school was allowing all of that to happen. Yeonji misunderstood, baring her teeth and opening her eyes widely.
She delivered a furious tirade, "Of course she can't! That kind of thing will kill the image of Otakus and interfere with the mission of the Clotaku Club! Do you know how much effort I put into repairing the reputation of Otakus after all the things she pulled off in middle school?!"
Yeonji appeared to have a deep-rooted hatred for the girl. Perhaps she was overreacting, considering we were all the same Otaku species.
"Same species my a.s.s! She's my enemy! My enemy!"
Her hate seemed to extend beyond the rules of nature, then.
After a series of grunts and mumbling, Yeonji spoke again, "I'm not saying that all Pubtakus are evil. I already know there's a bunch of Otakus who aren't afraid of being noticed. If you just look a little, you'll find plenty of them around."
"Really? I couldn't tell at all myself."
Without emanating the Otaku aura like that Yerin girl did, anyway.
Yeonji explained, crossing her arms, "You can look out for them during the national history cla.s.s. Kids who laugh at the 1920's 'Doujinshi' of the writer's society, those who giggle at 'Great scholar[1]' Yulgok Yi I, those who chuckle at the Korean prophecy of 'the Eighteen's Succession to the Throne[2]', they're all Otakus. I guarantee it."
I was again amazed that she was extremely knowledgeable in Korean History... Though, the last joke wasn't really relevant.
"However!" shouted Yeonji, flaunting her Otaku detection methods(?), "That girl doesn't stop there! If other Pubtakus are a threat, then she's a global emergency! I appreciate our Otaku culture just the same, but disrespecting coexistence with others and damaging the image of Otakus over a sense of superiority is unacceptable. She might think it's fine to do everything she does, but it's outright crazy to everyone else."
"Nngh..."
I groaned. Otaku's sense of superiority... it was a real thing. It's best explained as the behavior of Otakus where they are overly engrossed in the j.a.panese subculture, so much that they believe that other cultures are inferior. Of course, such behavior was directly opposing the meaning of being a Clotaku.
"I also heard that she forces cla.s.smates to cosplay, or even force them to read visual novels until they appreciate it. The school's staff is quiet about it, too, so no words got out. But surely, this is going to be headline news someday."
"Holy... seriously?"
She was indeed insane. At that level, her misdeeds were on a completely different dimension compared to something like 'Hey, try this book out, it's pretty good!'.
Only when we call it they are 'visual novels'. In the eyes of the common folk, they were usually seen as 'p.o.r.n'. To force non-Otaku cla.s.smates to play such games was to plummet any tolerance this school had for the Otakus.
And one more thing,
"That Eun Yerin girl... who exactly is she? How can the school be quiet about her? Wouldn't she be expelled right away?"
It was a question lingering in my mind before, and so I asked. How could Eun Yerin get away with such behavior?
Though our school may not have strict rules, anything that would affect the academic pursuit of its students was absolutely forbidden.
Undoubtedly, forcing students to read visual novels or do cosplays would ruin a studying environment, so the school must have done something by now. Why did the school leave the girl alone?
Yeonji answered, pouting and sticking her lips out like a woodp.e.c.k.e.r.
"Why? Because her grandfather is the CEO of the Eunsung Corporation."
"... Really?!"
I was astonished.
"No, really. Her father is the chairman of Eunsung Electronics, and his brother is the director of this school. Everyone, including the princ.i.p.al, reports to her family. No one can stop the girl from doing whatever she likes. How can they?"
"Wow..." I exclaimed.
The surprise did not come from knowing that the granddaughter of the CEO attended this same school, but because such a person is an Otaku.
I mean, really, it's not like skilled, smart, or rich people can't be Otakus, but it's still a big surprise that the granddaughter of the man who owns the nation's largest mega-corporation is an Otaku-- as if she was a fictional character from a game.
I felt my mind blank while trying taking in this new information that was as unrealistic as winning the lottery.
"If that's true... I guess the school can't do much."
If there was one way for us to do anything, it could be the 'I'm gonna tell your grandfather!' But even that wasn't simple. Listening to her history, Eun Yerin's Otaku power level was clearly beyond repair, and all of the school's staff who let her act that way would incur the wrath of Eunsung.
Another possibility was that, considering the degree of Yerin's maliciousness (if those terrifying stories were true) then that behavior might be of something from her entire family.
Either way, the issue was too volatile to solve from our level.
"Oh, wow, all of this is a huge surprise. I haven't heard of anything more shocking this year... How come I never found out about this before?"
"Maybe your home room is too far away. Her coverage wasn't all that big, area-wise."
That made sense. There were a lot of cla.s.srooms back at the middle school, too. If my home cla.s.sroom was indeed too far away, it wasn't strange for someone like me, a transfer student in the final year of middle school, to have never heard of her.
"...Hmm."
Eunsung Corporation's future inheritor... It was a position that could be called the royal blood of the 21st century. The way she spoke did not seem so strange anymore after learning about her ident.i.ty.
... ...Okay, never mind! My limbs are still tingly thinking about that. She's insane, no question.
And so, the day at the club ended in tragedy and learning an incredibly odd party game.
As an aside, Yeonji seemed to be giving me strange looks on our way out...
...Probably nothing, though.
Part 2
The next day,
My cla.s.ses had ended earlier, thanks to the shorter schedule on Tuesdays. I had been mucking about uselessly in the meantime, wondering to myself if there would be any consequences from Yeonji if I attended the club later than usual.
'There's going to be an intramural soccer game with Cla.s.s 3 today... Maybe it's not too late to join.'
Back when the news of the soccer match was going around, I was still busy running errands for Yeonji. To this moment, I regret that I hastily declined the offer to join the match because I wasn't sure if I would have any free time today. Adding salt to that wound, most of my free time had been wasted hanging around with Yeonji rather than it being spent on any of my hobbies.
If I don't occasionally hang out with my cla.s.smates -- playing sports or going to karaoke with them or whatever -- I would forever bear the label of being the most boring guy in the cla.s.s. Then they would reach the next natural question and go, 'Hey, what does that guy do in his free time?' And then my quiet life would be in danger.
...On that note, how does Yeonji act outside of the club? Being a Clotaku isn't simply about not letting others take notice of your hobbies; it's more about presenting yourself as someone who doesn't have those hobbies in the first place. To understand and perfectly blend in with those outside of the Otaku culture is the main goal of being a Clotaku.
...But it doesn't exactly make me proud that I believe something like that. Nevertheless, it led me to ponder about how Yeonji was doing in her cla.s.s; the way she regularly talks like an Otaku, it's hard to not worry about her daily school life.
Now I'm getting really curious, I thought. Hopefully I'll have a chance to find out in the future, though she never told me her cla.s.s number before.
Somehow, deciding whether or not I should join the soccer match led to thinking about Yeonji. I emptied my mind with a violent shake of my head, and refocused on deciding my next destination between the club and the playing field.
One hour couldn't hurt, I decided. Someone else could take over my spot if I had to leave. Even Yeonji shouldn't get too mad at an hour's delay. I'd always been thinking that I haven't been getting enough exercise lately, too.
With that decision, I turned around and began walking--
*b.u.mp*
--into somebody.
"Ah, s-sorry, are you alright?" I apologized. I had carelessly collided into someone while my mind was at a blank state. I hadn't heard her approach at all; I must have been completely out of it at the time.
"...I am fine."
That 'someone' was an unfamiliar girl, with immaculately straightened, red-tinted brown hair that was almost touching her shoulders, and her olive-brown eyes complemented by her noticeably long eyelashes. She was not particularly tall, but enough to be slightly intimidating.
There was a certain, stern atmosphere to her, as if I could relax and go to her for any problems I might have in life, despite being the opposite gender as I. She was a strange girl.
On her chest below her emotionless face was a white name card-- which meant she was a third year student in this school.
'Aw, c.r.a.p, she's an uppercla.s.sman!'
The magnitude of my sorry feeling doubled at that instant.
"S-sorry, Sunbae[1]. I wasn't paying attention and--."
"...I am fine," she repeated, her tone resembling a robot's. I was in pain from that collision myself, yet her voice showed no sign of surprise. "I tend to walk without making any sound. It is not your fault, Mister Injin."
...Mister Injin...?
Weird honorific aside, she called me by my name just there, right?
"Do you... know me?"
"..."
Her only reply was a silent stare. An awkward moment pa.s.sed, leaving me in confusion.
"...How complicated," she muttered.
What's so complicated? If she was referring to the situation she'd created, then sure, it was complicated.
Silence proceeded again, with Sunbae looking like she was attempting to solve the world's greatest mystery. I twiddled my thumbs and stood around for the lack of better things to do.
"...I understand. Mister Injin, if you do not mind, can you turn around for a moment?"
"...Huh?"
I was taken aback at that request. I wasn't sure how I'd respond.
"It is important for you, too. I beg of you."
"Y-you don't have to beg... L-like this?"
I had no idea why she had asked me to turn around, but I also wasn't too sure about saying "no" to a sunbae who was that insistent. It wasn't exactly difficult to do, anyway.
I turned around and faced away from Sunbae. Then,
"Thank you. Now..."
*POW!*
"Hurkgh..."
An unexpected, brutish force struck down the back of my neck as soon as I turned around.
Oh... What would be the best way to put it? I'd say... the closest description would be an extremely dull guillotine blade that made an attempt to slice through the skin of my neck.
With the aforementioned force registered to my neck, I squeaked out a constricted cry of pain.
"Ow... Nnng... ...?"
Frightened, I sluggishly turned my body around. There was the sunbae, holding up a blunt blade that was the side of her hand.
"...How complicated."
"W-wait..."
*POW!*
"AARGH!"
Another merciless chop cut through the air, digging into the side of my neck that was exposed from turning around. I felt like I could die.
"Wh-why... ACK!"
"...How complicated. I am terribly sorry."
"N-no, what are you... Waagh..."
"...Quite complicated."
What's so complicated?!
My consciousness finally began to fade out in pain, my questions still echoing in my head.
How long was I out?
Just as I felt my mind return, my drowsiness was immediately chased away by a relentless flood of pain in my neck.
"Ow..."
The pain was exponentially worse than waking up in the morning after having slept with my neck twisted one way. Even the simple act of breathing sent a periodic, tidal wave of pain down the back of my neck. Attempting to turn my neck was considerably, unimaginably worse.
My hand jumped and reached for my neck in response, but the effort was fruitless as my hands were tightly held behind my back.
Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see duct tape plastered over my four limbs, constricting me to a wooden chair... Basically, I looked like I was in the most generic hostage scene ever.
...How did this happen? I've never had the displeasure of getting knocked out in my life, but lately, every single day had been giving me a reason to lose consciousness.
The first time was when the nurse gave me that drug, of course; back then, I'd felt like I was in the most life-threatening situation that I could possibly be in. I hoped for my life that this situation wasn't the same deal, if not worse.
I dug through my memory to find any evidence that might help me understand how I got here, but there was none to be found. Not a big surprise, though, considering how my very last memory involved a stranger beating me up out of the blue.
'What is this place?'
I glanced around the area, so quickly that I could hear my eyes roll in their sockets. I couldn't move my neck without feeling like it would snap off, so my eyes had to take on the full workload of looking around.
The first thing I saw was... a colossal display cabinet, lined with anime PVC figures on every row.
"..."
...'Wait, what? I don't remember seeing any figures in the boxes that Yeonji brought over. But there's no other place in this school where I'd be seeing something like this, so maybe... Yeonji already expected that I'd be slacking off, so she hired a senior student? ...No way.
So, where am I? Not my school? It looks like some sort of a cla.s.sroom, but I don't recall there being a cla.s.sroom like this in Eunsung!'
Then I caught a voice, slipping through my panicked mind, coming from a direction that I couldn't see.
"...is the end of it," said a familiar voice, "I finally completed this route. To bring tears to my eyes like this-- this is the most brilliant game I have ever played. The music that played during the ending... it was quite moving. Sniff."
Another voice, just as familiar, agreed with the first, "Yes, the company made a fine choice in hiring this music director. The way there was appropriate music for every situation, combined with high quality art, it has a fantastic overall presentation."
"Hm... It was indeed a wise decision to take your advice to play this game! I believe I will continue seeking your advice in the future."
"...I am honored, Madame."
Their surreal dialogue continued for a fair length of time, then it stopped abruptly, followed with a sniffle.
"In any case, is that peasant still deep in slumber?"
"...Yes. I believe I have overdone it. As I've found, it is not all too easy to knock a man out by simple physical trauma to his neck. I believe I took thirteen tries to succeed."
With that kind of monstrous strength, I'm sure it doesn't matter where you hit thirteen times, I'd be knocked out anyway! And when you said something was 'difficult', you were talking about knocking me out?!
I was then sure enough that one of the two was the sunbae who had knocked me out. Their dialogue continued.
"No matter. However, I am not pleased that I have to wait because of your mistake. Could you bring him here in a more delicate way next time?"
"...Did you not instruct me to 'knock him out and bring him here', Madame?"
"I am quite sure that I had said 'bring him here even if it means knocking him out'... I never meant for you to bring him unconscious at all costs. You seem to do this every now and then."
"...I apologize, Madame."
"Darjeeling tea, Madame."
Followed by sunbae's extremely unapologetic voice was another voice that I hadn't heard before. It was hard to tell by voice if it was a boy or a girl.
"Thank you. Miss Sukyong, Mister Yujin, would you care to join me for tea?"
"...It will be my honor."
"Thank you, Madame."
Their conversation promptly stopped with their polite replies. Then I heard the trickling of a small stream of water, twice or so.
I wasn't sure if it was a good thing that their conversation ended early. I felt my entire body shrivel up from their dialogue, so much that I could feel my limbs slip out of the tapes that held me to this chair.
In time, I felt my imploded limbs re-expand to their original size. I returned to being terribly confused as to what my next move should be. My confusion was cut short, however, by the voice of that 'Madame'.
"Good. That is just the right temperature. It is just hot enough to make that peasant squeal and snap awake, no matter how incompetent he is at being awake. Miss Sukyong, why don't you try it out, now that you've mentioned it?"
...What's happening, now?
I was stricken with surprise. I could feel someone getting up and coming closer to me. Unable to contain myself, I quickly yelled, "W-wait! Stop it! I'm awake!"
"...Madame, he says he is awake."
"He may be talking in his sleep. It should be fine to pour it on him anyway. What's your thought, Miss Sukyong?"
"Wait, that's not fine at all!"
Ask me that question, not the person who's doing the pouring!
My neck began hurting again, thanks to my previous outbursts. My face contorted and wrinkled up from the pain.
In front of me, a familiar, blond-haired girl stood, looking down on me. She sneered, "Hmph, how do you feel, Kang... ... What was his name?"
"...Kang Injin, Madame."
"Yes, Kang Injin. Phew-- It is not easy keeping track of some peasant's name."
...Did she forget her pills today or something? She was mildly annoying before, but now she was just p.i.s.sing me off.
"You... You're Eun Yerin, right?"
The blonde-haired one out of the comedy duo was, without a doubt, the same girl I had met yesterday; the same girl who was also the granddaughter of the C.E.O of Eunsung Corporations, as I've found out from Yeonji. Asking that single question to her took a great deal of effort, having to overcome my fear for Eunsung.
"To speak of my n.o.ble name with a lowly peasant's mouth... Do you wish to die?" threatened Yerin, glaring down with her bright, blue eyes.
"...Not at all."
'At this rate, there's going to be a civilian casualty for every cla.s.s attendance checks,' I mumbled to myself, venting my frustrations.
Yerin further continued her arrogant lecture, "Hmph, I will forgive you this time. In the future, refer to me as 'Lady Yerin', or 'Madame', or 'Mistress Yerin' or 'mistress'. 'Mistress Yerin' is too lengthy, on second thought."
She couldn't bother to make it easy to call her d.a.m.n name.
Leaving me helplessly distraught, Yerin calmly brushed her golden hair over with her hand.
"Miss Sukyong, bring the chair over."
A big... an unnecessarily big chair was placed in front of me, on which Eun Yerin sat like a single feather floating gently down. Two more people appeared and stood around the chair as if to guard her.
"Wha-!"
Noticing who the two were, I sharply inhaled. One of the two people who stood next to Yerin was indeed the same third-year sunbae from before, but-- how should I say this-- her overall image looked vastly different than before, as if I were looking at an alteration, no, a mockery of the original.
Simply said, she was in a French maid outfit.
On her head was a white, frilly headband, her black dress padded around her shoulders, its front obscured by a frilly ap.r.o.n-- all details that made her outfit an unmistakeable maid outfit. Her shoulder-length hair was tied back into a ponytail, and even her leather boots were strangely but perfectly complementing sunbae's looks.
Seeing a maid-- I mean, seeing a girl in a maid's outfit is already quite the experience, but seeing it here in South Korea, in a school in the middle of Seoul?
And beside her was a... boy... in a butler's outfit. Contrasting the maid with an emotionless face, he -- or she, whichever was the person -- was smiling brightly in an outfit resembling a tuxedo.
If he's a boy, he could be called a Bishonen. If she's a girl, she could be called a Bishojo. Either way, the ambiguity made me slightly uncomfortable.
An emotionless maid and a cheerful butler.
With two art show display escapees by her side, Eun Yerin sat with her legs crossed, staring. My focus helplessly wavered at the sight of her plump, white thighs moving about.
Yerin began speaking in (futile attempts to make) an elegant, dramatic tone, "I am sure you have much to ask."
"Uh... yeah."
My starting question was about this blatant kidnapping happening in this law-fearing land. Why not let me talk without having to do all this?
"No, that won't do. You're my important witness. I cannot let you go that easily," mocked Yerin. What am I a witness for? The number of questions I wanted to ask grew exponentially every second. "Firstly... right. Do you not want to know what this place is?