After finishing my conversation with Otaku, I left the journalism club room, unable to shake off the uneasy feeling.
Failing to come up with a perfect solution, I clutched my forehead.
‘Hah, this is giving me a headache.’
Wasting more time arguing with that lunatic Otaku was pointless.
Since I couldn’t think of a way to delete the files on the laptop, retreating for now was my only option.
‘Fucking journalists.’
As soon as Kim Dohyun was completely out of sight, Otaku smiled and closed his laptop.
And then…
He slowly turned toward the space under the desk and spoke.
“You can come out now.”
At that moment, a figure who had been hiding in the darkness beneath the desk straightened up.
Kang Minwoo.
One of the people Kim Dohyun had been suspicious of from the beginning.
Rising slowly, he stretched his back with a grin.
Having been crouched under the desk, he was covered in dust, but he didn’t seem to care.
“That was… really close.”
Otaku chuckled and adjusted his glasses.
“As expected, you’re quick-witted~ Thanks to you, we didn’t get caught. But tell me, how did you know Kim Dohyun would show up?”
“Because our ‘Hero’ has a habit of jumping into action.”
“Oh-ho~! I’ll have to use that in episode two.”
Minwoo casually dusted off his clothes as he stood up.
Then, he picked up one of the printed sheets scattered on the desk—one with Kim Dohyun’s face on it.
Turning the paper in his hands, he smiled meaningfully.
‘The Hero’s accomplishments deserve to be known far and wide.’
***
The café where we used to gather to study during exam season.
But today, there were no workbooks, no pens.
Today’s topic wasn’t studying—it was destroying the journalism club.
When I opened the door and stepped inside, familiar faces were already seated.
Lee Jinyoung, Choi Dabin, and Seo Yuna.
Each had a coffee in front of them, smiling knowingly.
It seemed they had already caught on.
They looked at me, arms crossed, their eyes filled with curiosity.
Dabin was the first to speak.
“You lied to the teacher earlier to get out, but it didn’t go well, huh?”
I sat down without a word.
“I’m guessing it was worse than just failing.”
Jinyoung stirred his coffee and smirked.
“For Kim Dohyun to ask for help first, this must be a real pain in the ass.”
“Right?”
Yuna nodded quietly.
I let out a sigh and crossed my arms.
“I want to delete the files stored on the journalism club’s laptop, but I can’t think of a way to do it.”
For a moment, the three of them fell silent.
Then, responses came one after another.
“If it’s on the laptop…”
Yuna placed her hand on the table and spoke.
“That includes all the comics they’ve drawn so far and the drafts for upcoming issues, right?”
I nodded.
“Then why not just take the laptop and force them to delete it?”
Dabin rested her chin on her hand as she suggested it.
But Yuna immediately objected.
“If we use violence, it’ll only make things worse for Kim Dohyun. He already got disciplined once, so he’s in a bad position.”
At that moment, Jinyoung, who had been listening with amusement, tapped his fingers against the table.
“So, in the end, we just need to create a situation where we can access the laptop?”
“Exactly.”
I rested my chin in my hand, deep in thought.
“The problem is that the journalism club president keeps the laptop with him at all times.”
“Hmm…”
Even with collective brainstorming, no clear solution emerged.
Jinyoung suddenly flashed a sly smile.
“There’s only one way, then.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“We use the honey trap!”
“…What?”
The air at the table froze.
“Are you kidding? A honey trap?”
Dabin frowned.
“I’m serious! Historically, the honey trap has been used in espionage all the time!”
Jinyoung spoke with an exaggeratedly excited voice.
“Ninjas, spies, intelligence agents—they all used seduction to make their targets drop their guard and extract information! Or…”
He made a slicing gesture.
Shhk!
I let out a dry laugh.
“You really think that’s going to work?”
“At the very least, it’ll be enough to throw that guy off guard and give us an opening to access the laptop.”
Yuna let out a long sigh.
“That would never work.”
“It would! Especially on someone like the journalism club president.”
Jinyoung’s eyes sparkled with conviction.
“I did some digging into the journalism club. Otaku is a hardcore moe fan.”
Memories of what I had seen in their clubroom resurfaced—
The figurines of anime girls, the Japanese posters, the weird plastic cup with Japanese writing on it…
And the strange, green ‘Real Melon Soda’ he had been drinking.
“…Ah, yeah. That actually makes sense.”
“Right?”
Jinyoung grinned.
“In other words, if we approach him with a moe character, he’ll completely lose his focus.”
As soon as he said that, all of our gazes naturally landed on one person.
***
Seo Yuna.
She had her hand resting on the table, eyes closed.
Then, very slowly, she took a deep breath—
And opened her eyes, her expression cold.
“…You lunatics.”
Her voice was like ice.
“Cut it out.”
Jinyoung refused to back down.
“Come on, think about it! If you just go up to him, smile sweetly, and say, ‘Senpai~! Ehehe~!’ he’ll totally lose it!”
“Shut the hell up.”
“No, seriously! You just have to go, ‘Oh, senpai, you’re amazing~!’ and that’s it!”
Seo Yuna rubbed her temples irritably.
“Why should I do that?”
“Because Kim Dohyun is asking for help?”
She stared at me for a long moment, her sharp gaze piercing through me.
Then, finally, she spoke.
“Kim Dohyun can just crossdress and do it himself.”
“…What?”
I was so stunned that I had to ask again.
Yuna, still perfectly composed, added, “You could just do it yourself. If the journalism club president even used your face as material for his comic, that means he’s already interested in you, doesn’t it?”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
I waved my hands frantically.
“Hey, no way.”
I wasn’t about to go that far.
That would be ridiculous.
Jinyoung clapped his hands in excitement.
“Hey, that’s actually a great idea! Dohyun can go in disguise, dress up like a girl, and go, ‘Senpai~!’ while approaching him!”
“Shut up.”
I cut him off firmly.
But Jinyoung completely ignored me and let his imagination run wild.
“Come on, just picture it. Dohyun puts on a short wig, tucks his hair behind his ear shyly, and goes, ‘Oh, Otaku-senpai… Do you like this kind of thing?’ That would totally work!”
Even Dabin bit her lip to hold back a laugh.
“That sounds hilarious.”
“Both of you, stop it.”
I clenched my teeth and glared at them.
Just then, Dabin rested her chin on her hand and casually tossed out a suggestion.
“Want me to do it?”
“…What?”
“You know, acting all sweet and going, ‘Senpai~!'”
I instinctively turned to look at her.
To be honest, Choi Dabin was stunningly beautiful.
I couldn’t help but wonder—how would she look saying something like “Senpai~! Ekyun~!” with that usual cold expression of hers?
Then, Seo Yuna’s expression subtly changed.
Her eyebrows twitched slightly, and her lips pressed together tightly.
A brief silence passed.
Then, Yuna slowly nodded.
“…No.”
She spoke flatly, her face unreadable.
“I’ll just do it.”
The table fell silent.
‘She was actually agreeing to this madness?’
I stared at Yuna in disbelief.
“Seriously?”
She let out a long sigh, as if exhausted.
“There’s no other good plan, is there?”
She had a point.
At this point, the most reliable strategy was to use a honey trap, creating an opportunity to snatch the laptop while Otaku was distracted.
A pretty girl approaching him kindly—someone like Otaku, who screamed forever alone, would definitely waver.
Clap!
Jinyoung excitedly smacked his hands together.
“Great! Then it’s time for Operation Moe Mode!”
Yuna crossed her arms and sighed again.
Meanwhile, Jinyoung enthusiastically pulled out his phone and scrolled through something.
“Alright, so I did a little stalking on journalism club president Otaku’s social media…”
He turned his phone toward the table.
“This is the kind of stuff he’s into.”
As soon as we saw the screen, everyone froze.
A blonde magical girl character beamed brightly on the display.
She wore a giant ribbon headband, a frilly dress decorated with lace, and held a large staff.
But the most shocking part…
She looked eerily similar to Seo Yuna.
“…What the hell is this?”
I muttered, still processing what I was seeing.
Jinyoung snickered.
“Apparently, this is Otaku’s absolute favorite character. He even posted an unboxing video of her figurine.”
Yuna glanced at the phone, her expression turning grim.
“…It’s just my imagination that she looks like me, right?”
“…Yeah, totally.”
I nodded, pretending to agree.
‘But honestly?’ It was uncanny.
From the hair color to the shape of her face—it was almost a carbon copy of Yuna.
The real issue, though…
‘Was the character’s way of speaking.’
A subtitle on the phone screen caught my eye.
“Dameyo~! You can’t do bad things! I’ll purify you with my magic! ☆”
***
The air around the table grew strangely heavy.
Jinyoung grinned mischievously and looked at Yuna.
“Hey, you could totally pull this off perfectly.”
“…”
Yuna slowly lifted her head.
Her face was dead serious.
“…You’re telling me to talk like that?”
“Of course. This is Magical Girl Ruri’s signature catchphrase when she defeats enemies!”
Jinyoung nodded eagerly.
“You have to say it like this—’Dameyo~!’”
Yuna stared at the phone screen in disbelief.
Dabin, watching with amusement, chimed in.
“Yuna, are you really going to do this?”
Yuna remained silent for a while, then let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through her hair.
And then—
Quietly, in the softest voice possible, she murmured, “…Dameyo.”
At that moment, all three of us froze.
Jinyoung, visibly shaking from the shock, muttered, “…Holy shit. That was perfect.”
“…”
At that instant, I felt it.
This plan…
It might actually work.