Style Completion (2)
Seo Joo-hwan let out a sigh as the three women chattered away incessantly. The old saying that three women together could shatter a plate came to mind. He'd always thought it was outdated nonsense unfit for modern times, but experiencing it firsthand, it didn't seem entirely wrong.
He called out to his one and only ally.
'Lucy.'
'Yes, Master.'
> 'You'll get used to it, right?'
> 'Yes. Master said it wasn't great, but Yoon Seo-ra's fashion sense is on an extraordinary level. If you're going to be a regular, it might be good to get on friendly terms.'
'That woman's name is Yoon Seo-ra?'
> 'Yes. Shall I open the status window?'
Lucy, the Lust System's assistant, could access information on any woman Seo Joo-hwan had made contact with. He nodded, bringing up the status window.
As Lucy had said, Yoon Seo-ra's talents were impressive. The Coordinate talent had a high potential rank, and its current level already surpassed professional standards. That explained her reputation for recommending outfits so well.
'First time meeting her, but her affection is pretty high already? Because of the pheromones?'
> 'Partly the pheromones, but it jumped up a level right after she checked out your outfit.'
'Ah. So she likes guys who dress well.'
> 'It's related to her fetishes. Let me explain.'
Yoon Seo-ra had a whopping three fetishes. Excluding that serial killer he'd seen before, she was the first with three.
> 'All three are subcategories of Clothing Fetish.'
> 'First, Salirophilia is arousal from slightly messy or disheveled appearances.'
What kind of fetish is that? Seo Joo-hwan wondered if he'd misunderstood.
'...You mean she likes dirty, unwashed people?'
> 'No. Think in terms of clothing. Torn or wrinkled outfits. Ripped jeans are a classic example.'
'Ahh, got it.'
Yoon Seo-ra's jeans had holes and rips in several places. It must reflect her tastes.
> 'Doraphilia is a fixation on leather products—like the leather jacket she's wearing. For some, it includes leather whips.'
> 'Transvestophilia is arousal from a partner wearing opposite-sex clothing. Or liking to wear it themselves. Nurse outfits, maid uniforms, military or police uniforms, leather clothes, suits, office looks. The variety is huge, so many with this fetish love cosplay.'
'Cosplay?'
That word jogged a pre-regression rumor: Yoon Seo-ra was a famous cosplayer. It had spread long after Style Completion opened, but he wasn't sure if it was true.
As he eyed the status window anew, Yoon Seo-ra approached and called out to him.
"Um... sir?"
"Ah, yes."
"Is this okay? Oh, no pressure at all—if you don't want to, feel free to say no."
She waved her hands cautiously, gauging his reaction. Naturally, Seo Joo-hwan had no idea why she was acting this way.
"Sorry, I must've missed what you said. Could you explain?"
Something must've gone down while he was focused on the status window. He glanced at the sisters behind her. Han Su-ah was fidgeting anxiously, and Seo Joo-hee was bowing with hands clasped in plea.
"O-oppa, sorry. She said she's a Su-ah fan, so I just... No pressure, you can say no. Okay?"
"Hwan oppa, sorry!"
He got the story. Yoon Seo-ra was a YouTube hobbyist who'd recently watched Han Su-ah's videos and claimed to be a subscriber fan. She'd proposed an ad on the spot.
The deal: She'd coordinate two outfits each for the three of them. In exchange for uploading the process to YouTube and promoting the shop, no charge for the clothes.
It seemed like a steal at first glance. But Seo Joo-hwan saw it positively.
'Sounds good.'
He'd wondered what they were apologizing for—it was a solid offer. YouTube ad rates varied by subscribers, views, watch time, and channel type. Han Su-ah had 30,000 subs. Three outfits were fair for that.
'No, not fair—it's a huge win.'
A gaming channel unrelated to fashion, with a shaky fanbase from rapid growth. A sudden fashion video might flop. Yoon Seo-ra might even be taking a loss out of fandom. Six pieces (tops and bottoms) would cost at least 400,000 won minimum.
'If views are good... how many points will I get?'
Definitely worth it. To avoid backlash, he double-checked her intentions.
"You know their channel is gaming, right?"
"Yes, of course. Psychic Watch. I didn't recognize you at first since it's so different, but I saw you in the videos."
"Really? It's still in closed beta... You like games?"
"I like games, but the charac—er, cos... the characters are so pretty. Hehe."
Pure fandom ad, then. Seo Joo-hwan extended a hand.
"Thanks for the opportunity for the girls."
"Ah! No, thank you!"
"Call me Joo-hwan. I'll probably be a regular here anyway. I live nearby."
"Hehe. Take care of me too, Joo-hwan!"
*
Yoon Seo-ra started with Han Su-ah and Seo Joo-hee.
"Make it sexy like unnie!"
Surprisingly, it was Han Su-ah requesting—not Seo Joo-hee. Yoon Seo-ra broke a sweat. No matter her skills, sexifying a 149cm puppy-faced girl was impossible. That'd be magic, not coordination.
Rejected, Han Su-ah pouted.
"Why can't I do hambo-kkal-su..."
"Sexy next life, Su-ah."
"Joo-hee, you're mean."
He comforted the sulky girl.
"Yeah. Wear what suits you. Su-ah, be yourself. Cute fits you."
"Myself? I've been sexy all along?"
"......"
"Say something."
"Uh, well. Yeah. You're so sexy."
"Not sincere at all! Hwan oppa's the worst!"
"......"
What did she want? He realized later—it was overacting for the shoot.
Next, Seo Joo-hee. Han Su-ah muttered while opening the camera app beside her.
"One more cm and I could've worn sexy clothes."
"......"
149 or 150—same difference. Seo Joo-hwan swallowed his words.
"Joo-hwan's turn now!"
Yoon Seo-ra was even more enthusiastic than with the girls. Despite Han Su-ah owning the channel, she treated him like the star.
"Try this too! Then this, and next..."
No other customers, so she went all out. He changed five times, feeling like a dress-up doll.
A new customer let him escape, but they left quickly after browsing. Yoon Seo-ra pouted, then smiled at him satisfied.
"Anything on you looks good—worth dressing you up. Been working out?"
They'd chatted during his turn. She was sociable.
"Just a bit."
"Taller and you'd be a model. Subtle sex appeal. Face is handsome, but yeah."
She scanned him top to bottom curiously. He smiled awkwardly.
'Still average level, huh.'
He'd thought losing weight made him hot, but apparently not standout. Maybe the Pheromone B-rank skill helped—it emitted a scent boosting opposite-sex affection, subtly heightening physiological responses and drawing lustful gazes. Minor effect, though.
"Thanks for today, noona."
"Thank you, unnie."
"I'll text when it's up on YouTube~!"
"Yeah. Come play again~."
Yoon Seo-ra waved regretfully. They'd swapped numbers—plenty of reasons to contact.
'Might not even need to.'
He'd probably return soon anyway.
*
After Swan, they shopped for shoes. Clothes were free, so shoes at least, they insisted. Not short on cash, but their thoughtfulness was nice.
"Leather jacket needs sneakers, right?"
"Brown? Black?"
"Black—stains on brown are annoying."
"Oppa, put effort into your look. You transformed—why slack?"
"Yeah. Hwan oppa looks cool now. But haircut time?"
"Right?"
"I'll handle it. Please..."
"No whining—follow me!"
Grateful my ass. Whose shopping was this? His clothes, yet they were thrilled. Real-life doll for big bucks?
At the salon, Shin Ha-neul—name tag "Shin Bada"—greeted him post-checkout.
"Oh! Joo-hwan, long time. No reservation?"
Remembered him after one visit—face and name. Impressive salesmanship.
"Came on impulse. Another stylist?"
"Hmm. Want me?"
"If you're free."
Shin Ha-neul was talented. Last time, a simple style that grew on him.
She smirked and nodded.
"Sure. Last client just left—I'll do you then head out."
"Really? Sorry."
"But I'll inspect your hair care."
"Haha..."
He laughed awkwardly, recalling her fetish: top+ Trichophilia—extreme hair lover, per Lucy.
"What style?"
"Easy maintenance. Clean."
"Hate fuss?"
"Can't style it."
He sucked at hair and fashion. Botched attempts were worse than none.
"Hair's improved a lot."
"Followed your advice."
"Hehe. Good job. Balding spots look better."
He grinned. Thanks to Hair~Hair Nutrient from gacha. More recently—set for a month.
Shampoo after cut. Her slim fingers massaged scalp and nape, nails lightly scratching like foreplay. Legs twitched; a groan escaped.
"Eek."
"Hehe."
She chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying. Loved scalp erogenous zones.
"Hair quality's great. What product?"
"Yours."
No item reveal. Dodged.
More strokes on ears and nape, then done.
Hair lover approved the upgrade.
*
Out of salon, Han Su-ah sulked. He poked her puffed cheek.
"Hwan oppa."
"Yeah?"
"Shin Bada? Close with that stylist unnie?"
"Why?"
"Anyway."
"Not really. Second time today."
He wanted to get closer—her styling talent tempted, and she was pretty.
'Jeans suit her.'
Nodding inwardly, Han Su-ah grabbed his hand, dragging without looking back.
"Oppa, dinner!"
Short legs strode(?) ahead. Baffled, he followed.
"Pfft! Kyahahaha!"
Seo Joo-hee trailed, laughing like a maniac. Gratingly hyper.
*
Samgyeopsal dinner, then cafe pre-goodbye.
"One cake slice?"
"Two!"
"...Not full?"
"Dessert stomach's separate!"
"Yeah!"
Separate? Two stomachs? He shrugged, ordering three Americanos and two cakes.
"My treat."
"Eh, we got it."
"Nah. Take it when offered. Don't beg parents for allowance."
High schoolers' cash from parents. No jobs; YouTube/TrickyTV not payout-ready.
As he ordered, familiar voice nearby.
"Seo Joo-hwan?"
"Huh? Why're you here?"
Choi Mi-hwa, his editor. Hands on hips, mock frown.
"Call me noona!"
"...Still on that?"
"Bad guy."
"Why suddenly..."
Her resentful glare flustered him. Thought they'd cleared it—why now?
She giggled, softening.
"Kidding. What brings you here?"
"I asked first? You know I live nearby."
"Right. Uh... those two? Girlfriends?"
Eyes sharpening again. He shook head frantically.
Then Han Su-ah linked arms.
"Hwan oppa's close dongsaeng. You?"
"...Real sister?"
"No, super close dongsaeng I've known forever."
"...Ah, just close dongsaeng?"
"Not just—ow!"
Flicked her forehead. She clutched head, aggrieved. Felt bad—like bullying a kid—but necessary.
He scowled.
"Rude to oppa's editor."
"...Editor?"
"Told you I write. She's in charge. Apologize."
Han Su-ah mumbled, then bowed slightly.
"Sorry. Han Su-ah, close dongsaeng."
"No, no. Same. Nice to meet. Choi Mi-hwa, Seo author's editor."
"Hi. Little sis Seo Joo-hee..."
"Ignore her."
"Mean!"
Cheerful, not aggrieved. Atmosphere eased.
Choi Mi-hwa chuckled.
"Can't order 'cause of me. Line's long—my treat."
"No need."
"Fine. Company card."
"...Can you?"
"Coffee for our author? Fine. Met another just now—business."
"Who?"
"Later. Sisters waiting."
"Yeah. Thanks. Careful."
"Acting worried."
She pouted, then smiled waving.
"Thanks. I'll call."
"Sure."
After, to table sisters claimed.
Sat; Seo Joo-hee sparkled.
"Oppa really writes?"
"Speech."
"...Yeah, oppa. Real editor? Looks young."
"Year older."
"Ooh, noona. Pretty editor noona... Dating? Glasses girl kink?"
Han Su-ah flinched, adjusting her round glasses. He denied.
"Nothing like that. Just author-editor."
"Doesn't seem so~."
"Confiscate laptop?"
"Ugh, give then take?"
Drag.
Drag.
"Whatever. Food's up—get it, bean sprout."
"Tch. Only me. Su-ah, come."
"Huh? Okay!"
She scurried after. He leaned back, exhaling.
"Whew. Tired."
Day ending.
*
"Oppa, visit home weekends!"
"Hwan oppa, text often!"
"Yeah. Text when home."
Saw them off, headed home. Noisy day—alone felt eerily quiet.
"Hm? Like last time..."
Familiar. Previously, walked here, to smoking area, cig break.
Lit up.
Click. Click.
"Ah. Now."
Lighter dead. Convenience store? Far, annoying.
Scratching head, heading out—white hand proffered lighter.
"Here. Use this."
"Thanks... Huh?"
Glossy black long hair like ebony, tall model figure. Fierce impression but memorable pretty face.
"That princess syndrome girl?"
"...Give lighter back."
Frowned, hand out. He pulled away quick.
"Sorry. Thanks. Haha."
Déjà vu. Last time, he lent it.
Flick—lit, returned.
Smoked silently, eyed her: sweats, slippers. Carriage hid casual comfort.
"Live nearby?"
"We'll meet often, then?"
"Often?"
"Saw you drunk last time—don't remember?"
Snippy tone. Recalled: with Choi Mi-hwa.
"Ah, right. I overreacted... Sorry."
"N-no. Wasn't for apology. I misspoke first."
She flustered, waving. Contrasted haughty vibe.
He smirked, stubbed cig, bowed.
"Take care."
"You too."
Slight bow back. Curt but polite. Unique.
'Feels familiar. Whatever.'
No use pondering. Tired—bedtime.
*
Sun up. Yawned, scratched head.
"Back to school finally."
First day.