My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Going According to Plan! (Volume 11)

The long-awaited Love-Love Reviewer App had finally updated. There was no burst of blinding light like the day I first fell into this other world. I'd even prepared sunglasses just in case, but they turned out to be completely useless.

Knowledge I had never learned before began flowing into my head. Strangely enough, there wasn't the slightest discomfort, inconvenience, or pain. It felt completely natural. The information surged up as if I were simply remembering things I'd always known.

“Hmm…?”

I had expected this app to demand some kind of role from me. The usual stuff you see in other romance possession stories. Things like Seduce them or the world flips or What? You're saying I'll die if I don't change the genre to an eroge? Man, those were genuinely fun to read back then.

But this app had none of that. It purely respected my choices. It didn't interfere with my thoughts or actions at all.

“Nice.”

And the most fortunate part was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that this was possession, not a world transfer. The reason that mattered was simple.

I could escape this world. To be exact, after spending three months here, I could return to reality whenever I wanted. The reverse was also true. I could re-enter this world anytime I liked. When I did, there would be no three-month cooldown. The cooldown only applied when entering this world and then leaving it.

Fortunately, time in the real world had stopped completely. You could say reality itself had a bookmark stuck in it.

Good. Starting today, I believe in God.

And the simulation theory too. From now on, I'll believe in any theory that comes along. I feel like I'm genuinely losing my mind.

But the bewilderment faded almost instantly. When I thought about it, this was an incredibly special ability, yet it didn't seem all that overpowered.

You can't conquer the world with romcom possessor powers anyway…

Peace settled over my heart. I'd just treat it as gaining one supernatural ability that let me travel to another world. On top of that, in a way, my lifespan had increased too. Perfect. Decision made. All offerings and donations are now confiscated.

Going back to the beginning. This app didn't force any particular role on me. That didn't mean I didn't have a status, though.

“I'm a K-exchange student.”

And not just any school—the very one that served as the setting for the story.

In terms of role, I was clearly an extra. You know ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those manga characters whose faces are completely shadowed by their hair? That seemed to be me.

I tapped the updated Love-Love Reviewer App. An interface written in soft, fluffy font appeared.

What was this crude simplicity? If I wanted to be generous, I could call it an efficient UI that only displayed the essentials, but it wasn't exactly pleasing to the eye.

I tapped My Information.

I pressed it.

“Hmm……”

My profile in this world was written there in simple terms. Scrolling down revealed an address and more detailed settings, but there really wasn't much to it. The inventory was empty, while the R.P Shop was packed with bizarre items.

“Then don't sell it, you crazy bastard.”

…And so on. The shop was full of all kinds of strange goods I could buy at my current rank.

I immediately purchased the Beginner Japanese Package. I had to live here for at least two more months, and not knowing the language would be incredibly inconvenient. I was also curious what would happen when I bought it.

The moment I pressed purchase, a bright ding! sounded from my phone. Then university-level knowledge of Japanese began pouring into my head. It felt like I could now use the vocabulary of a kindergarten student.

Hey, Tatsuya. Is this the kind of baseless confidence you feel every single day? It's addictive.

I smiled brightly and opened a Japanese website. I could read the text now. Should I try speaking?

“Dame desu, iya desu, yamete.”

Good. I had a rough idea of my level now.

“Fucked desu.”

The romcom announcer route is immediately abandoned desu.

I had learned to the point where I could read characters like a daycare kid and form basic sentences with individual words. This was apparently a huge improvement in vocabulary. As expected, I still can't understand you, Tatsuya.

“……”

Fuck, I have to enroll next week!!!

Why isn't there something like a “Skilled Foreign Worker Language Package”?! They could at least sell it a little cheaper!

“Ah, maybe I just won't go.”

Honestly, skipping it wouldn't matter. The app didn't force me to do anything.

But it was hard to ignore the voice inside my head.

You're just going to endure the live-action version? You don't want to hear your favorite character Hoshimiya call you senpai?

The original senpai is hard to pass up. But this place is a love comedy world packed with incidents and accidents (mostly Tatsuya's planned crimes). Was there any reason I had to step foot into this love comedy hell?

Even Columbus would have avoided the love comedy continent if the natives were Tatsuya.

“Sip—”

You middle-school dropout bastard. Every time the kids in class talk about their high school days, you sit there thinking 'What the hell is that…? I don't know any of those stories…' and pretend to be drunk so you can lie on your desk? Huh?! Japan means youth! You need to experience it too!

“That's true. My youth was nothing but work.”

All because my sister dumped the store on me… Ugh.

Let's be honest with ourselves. It's shit, right? Think about Tatsuya! Think about all the money we wasted on that disgusting bastard!

“43,200 won on Tatsuya…”

Why does that piss me off so much?

It's not telling us to seduce the heroines like in the stories we read! I know. We're workaholic, forever-single virgins who've never seduced anyone. But we can at least crash that shitty Tatsuya's love comedy!

“Should we?”

Peace settled in my heart. Protector of the original work? Just fuck off. What's wrong is this world. I'll say it again with sincerity. What's wrong is this world.

And the most important thing was this.

“You know, Tatsuya-kun.”

I just really fucking hate a bastard like you. That was all, really.

Even if the world changed, some values remained unchanged. Absolutely, irrevocably unchanging. The name of that value was Tatsuya Yuta. Or simply that bastard.

Muttering that hateful name, I woke up at the crack of dawn.

“Got to earn some points.”

I still didn't know exactly how to acquire the points needed to use the R.P Shop. I could only make guesses by recalling the stories I'd read and comparing them to my current situation. It was probably points gained by intervening in the original work. That was the standard setup.

The more I spent, the higher my rank would rise. And as my rank rose, more varied items would appear. That was my current prediction.

“...I want it desu.”

The fluent Japanese package. For real.

I stared at my reflection while washing my face. Deeply furrowed brows that made me look like I was constantly frowning. An expression that felt blank to me but probably looked sullen to others. Skin that seemed pale rather than white like Hoshimiya's. And eyes of a deep blue that felt almost chilling.

Decades before I was born, during the pandemic, the vaccine side effects had changed some people's body hair or eye color. The odds were less than three percent. I had been born in a world where that side effect was treated as a unique trait.

But this world had no such disease. Still, since it was a love comedy world, there were plenty of people with colorful features. So I wouldn't feel out of place. If necessary, I could just claim to be mixed-race.

Overall, I could safely be called a man with the worst possible first impression.

This trait of mine had grown even stronger as I matured, with sharper features and lost baby fat. But since I'd been rejuvenated, it was manageable.

“Still, let's wear the glasses. Guess I'm wearing them here too.”

My vision was 2.0 in both eyes, damn it. Without glasses, my impression became too intimidating for people to approach. I had no choice.

After washing up, I put on the school uniform. I left my hair messy. From observing students on the street, most kept it natural. That should work for me too. Add the non-prescription round glasses and I was done.

“Good. Perfectly prepared.”

At this level, the impression honestly shouldn't be too bad. The extra penalty might even help me. It said my flaws would be emphasized, but how bad could it be? Besides, my face looked blurry to people until a relationship was formed anyway.

With all preparations complete, I stepped out of the house. Today, I was finally enrolling.

Sato Hinami was filled with excitement from the moment she woke up.

“A transfer student!”

To think an event like this would happen at her very first workplace! The chairman had suddenly notified her only a week ago, so she had been flustered, but she was still thrilled! And he was Korean, too.

He apparently couldn't speak Japanese very well, which meant as his teacher she would have plenty of chances to help him. The students in her class were all so independent it was almost lonely.

The teaching life she had dreamed of was happy. It was definitely happy… but there was that thing, right? The growth narrative of youth that occurred during a period of rapid emotional change. The youth that teachers and students built together! Of course she knew reality was different, but as a brand-new teacher who hadn't yet shaken off her new-teacher syndrome, Sato Hinami still couldn't abandon the romantic ideal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of mentor and pupil.

Today she was personally going to pick up her new student, who wouldn't be familiar with the route to school.

We've only talked through messages. This is our first time meeting. Is this even appropriate? It feels so sudden.

More than that… what kind of student would he be? She'd heard Koreans tended to speak directly and boldly, so she was a little worried. If any misunderstandings arose with his classmates, she would have to explain the cultural differences. Not in a scolding tone, but with gentle advice. It must be so difficult being in an unfamiliar foreign country. And then… when the student who had perfectly adapted to Japanese school life was about to graduate… Thanks to you, teacher, my youth was happy. And… actually, I—! If she heard something like that…!

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaack!! No, no! Teacher can't accept confessions!”

She was by no means aiming for an impure relationship with a student. It was just that hearing such a confession at least once was part of a teacher's life, wasn't it?

Having renewed her motivation, Sato Hinami stepped hard on the accelerator.

Wait for me, Yu Seoha-kun!

“The youth delivery teacher is on her way!”

And at last, she arrived at the promised meeting place.

“Nice to meet you, Sato-sensei.”

She was impressed for a brief moment by the incredibly clear and precise pronunciation unique to Koreans!

“Uh, um! Nice to meet you too, Yu-kun…”

Sato immediately lowered her gaze. A very scary and cold-looking man was staring ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down at her with a sullen expression.

The typical problem-student impression the senior teachers warned me about…?

No! This wasn't right. Judging someone by first impressions was a bad habit. But if that wasn't the case, then that expression… Did he dislike her that much?

Hiiing… Why…?

The moment she saw the intimidating transfer student, Sato Hinami couldn't help but tremble. Even though a student stood right in front of her, it felt like a wild beast was watching her.

She stole another glance.

Huk!

Those fierce eyes that looked ready to devour her at any second were a little—no, very—scary.

For real!