[No title provided]
"Come in for one more drink?"
I couldn't utter a single word. Everyone here seemed to be hardcore otakus, and they all reacted similarly, as if they'd heard the name at least once before.
"......"
"...Whoa, I've seen this artwork recently...? Seol-ah, draw me one illustration. I'll pay top dollar for it."
"This is you...?"
It felt like déjà vu, but the shock hit harder than at the mart. For otakus like us, she might even be more aspirational than some chaebol heir. About two and a half years ago, she started uploading her first illustrations—consistently high-quality beautiful girl art—and now she had nearly 150,000 followers as the illustrator Yuki-nyang. Her intros and captions were all in Japanese, so everyone assumed she was Japanese. Plus, her art had this subtly erotic vibe, leading most to think she was a guy.
But she's Korean—and standing right in front of me? Her style was right up my alley: even without much skin, she nailed those perfect "arousing" points. The shock hit extra hard for me.
"This is seriously mind-blowing."
"I wasn't hiding it or anything, but it's not like I'd just blurt it out."
True, Yoo Seol-ah wasn't the type to brag. And this was our first official meetup anyway. Still, the revelation lingered.
"...You wrote your bio in Japanese from the start, so we all figured you were Japanese."
"In this scene, Japanese gets better traffic and inflows."
As the conversation continued, we had no choice but to accept that Yoo Seol-ah was Yuki-nyang. There was no reason for her to lie, and zero chance it was fake.
I dipped some meat and bok choy in sauce and popped it in my mouth, but the flavor barely registered compared to before. One guy's a chaebol heir who's a killer cook and aspiring voice actor, and now another turns out to be a famous illustrator...? Desperate for some common ground, I turned to the president.
"At least you're normal, right? Just a regular person?"
If even he was some insane prodigy, my heart would ache.
"I'm totally normal, so don't worry."
But two out of three had already "betrayed" me. I wasn't letting it go easily.
"You sure you don't have any hidden talents? You said comp sci, right? Any awards or something?"
"I did snag a presidential award in indie game dev once, but that's it. I'm really just average."
"......"
Everyone here had standout talents—already validated by the world. If I had to pick mine, maybe the musical gift from my dad. But ever since I was a kid, I'd decided music would stay a hobby. No matter how hard Dad tried to pull me into the industry, I held firm. I wanted to keep what I loved just that—loved. So I still treat it as a hobby, which feels lacking compared to these three who've already achieved real things. A bitter taste crept into my mouth.
And of course, I'd just finished my beer. I stood, grabbed a bottle of soju with the red cap from the fridge, cracked it open, and chugged straight from it for a moment—until Yoo Seol-ah snatched it from my hand.
"What the hell? You'll pass out like that."
"A famous illustrator like you couldn't possibly understand."
But I didn't snatch it back. Soju tasted like crap anyway, and she was looking out for me.
Maybe my words hit home, because Yoo Seol-ah switched to an uncharacteristically gentle tone.
"No, you too..."
"Me too?"
"You have tons of talents. You write novels well, and you handle mana great."
"......"
What the hell was I supposed to do with that on Earth? No one to fight here. And controlling mana isn't the same as casting spells—it's not super useful in daily life. She was definitely teasing me. Her lips twitched suspiciously.
"You little..."
"Kidding. You're handsome, and you do great in school too?"
I bit my lip, and she—slightly tipsy—giggled, trying to smooth it over. Honestly, that applied to everyone here... But you can't spit on a smiling face, especially one this ridiculously pretty. No comeback.
"When did you start drawing?"
"I've been doodling since I was little. These days, with so much online, I taught myself."
"But you went into fashion design instead of art."
"I've always liked clothes, and for bishoujo-style illustrations like mine, college wouldn't teach much anyway. There might be better artists out there technically, but this field is about nailing the key points. I wanted to stick to my style."
Yuki-nyang's art wasn't just high-quality; it had that instantly recognizable vibe. That's why her fanbase kept growing, and why I'd followed her too.
The president, who'd been listening quietly, chimed in.
"So, do you know SPICA by any chance?"
"Of course. I love Lupco Yanglip too. She draws amazingly, and she's gorgeous? Super cute—I'd love to be friends, but there's zero info out there..."
Even famous illustrators didn't know SPICA's details. Yoo Seol-ah praised her looks twice, maybe because she did bishoujo art herself. But judging by Yuki-nyang's style and aversion to drawing guys, her tastes leaned pretty male-oriented.
"SPICA's speed is insane, though. After I returned to Earth, I even use magic to draw, but she's still faster."
Illustrations usually involve tablets and pens. I was curious how Yoo Seol-ah incorporated magic, but what made SPICA even quicker? Who was she?
"Cosplay plus drawing must keep you slammed..."
"Can't say it's not busy, but I do it for my own satisfaction, so it's not a hassle."
"Speaking of, your cosplay handle is Charlotte too. Borrowed that from Astasia?"
"......Yeah... something like that."
A brief silence before her vague reply. Not super satisfying. And Charlotte—not just Charl—rang a bell. Common name, but I'd heard it recently...
"I just went with Ellis from way back, tweaked it to Alice. Still don't get why those Astasia folks can't pronounce Lee Seo-yeon right. That hard?"
"Every hero I saw was named Cain, so I picked that. Naid too, right? The assassin from Isekai Wanderer."
"Spot on. You know everything."
Not surprising anymore. More importantly, why did Charlotte feel so familiar? I racked my brain. Charlotte... Charlotte, and Yuki-nyang...? Ah, got it.
"I was wondering where I'd heard Charlotte—it's that. And silver hair too. That's it, right? Ordinary Daily Sex Life..."
"Shut it!..."
No—my mouth wouldn't open. Silence was one thing; this was way more awkward. No sound versus physically sealed.
"Ordinary daily what?"
"Nah, she misspoke. Ignore it—useless chatter."
I breathed through my nose, tapping the table. Yoo Seol-ah glared, mouthing something.
Don't say it...?
I nodded, and she finally released the spell.
"Yoo Seol-ah, embarrassed about Ordinary Daily Sex Life? You even posted achievement screenshots on your Yuki-nyang account."
The second my mouth worked, I kept going. I could've kept it secret, but maybe the booze loosened me up. Payback for her teasing me earlier.
"......You fucking asshole."
Even cursing while glaring looked talented on her. Lee Seo-yeon perked up.
"What's that? An anime?"
"Nah, eroge."
Ordinary Daily Sex Life swapped "life" for "sex" in the title—probably a niche Japanese underground term. The other two had seen Yuki-nyang's art but not followed her SNS closely, so they were clueless. But mid-January, she'd posted about that game.
"It even has a wiki. How'd I miss this?"
Lee Seo-yeon was already searching. Yoo Seol-ah buried her face in her arms on the table. Lee Seo-yeon read the wiki aloud without hesitation.
"Ordinary Daily Sex Life. Popular eroge released December 25, 2022, by Japan's X-RATE. Oh, super recent. Main theme is common sense alteration, with intensity among the highest in eroge. As Japan's eroge market shrinks, they even did a full Korean—"
Yoo Seol-ah, arms trembling around her head, slammed the table and stood, downing the red-cap soju I'd chugged earlier.
I explained to Lee Seo-yeon.
"One of the main girls is a silver-haired character named Charlotte."
"Her hair's a bit longer? Shorter than yours, Seol-ah. Released end of last year... Ah, so that's where Charl came from?"
After chugging what amounted to four or five shots, Yoo Seol-ah stood and yelled at me.
"Wait—you know it, so you played it too!"
"Obviously. Yuki-nyang bragged about 100% conquering Charlotte."
Neutral ground—no damage. I'd pulled a couple all-nighters enjoying it myself. Lee Seo-yeon's reaction said it all; no one here would judge. Common sense alteration theme with twists, and surprisingly, route choices led to pure love stories with each girl—the plot was gripping. I'd done Lilac's route, not Charlotte's, but I remembered Yuki-nyang's SNS screenshot of full conquest.
"Kinda looks like you a bit, Seol-ah... You didn't pick her on purpose, right?"
I'd thought that too but kept quiet. Coming from me, it'd be straight-up sexual harassment. Girl privilege? Or maybe Lee Seo-yeon just got away with it. Anyway, Yoo Seol-ah probably just liked how pretty Charlotte was. Bishoujo fan and all.
But watching her one-shot the rest of the soju made me wonder if there was a connection.
---
"We said no curfew, but crashing here all night feels off, and nowhere comfy to sleep anyway. Let's wrap up—last bus time."
"Yeah. We'll see each other plenty."
It was past 11 already, so the president called it. I'd been to a few drinking sessions before, but none as fun as this—even combined. Zero awkwardness, endless topics. Six hours of chat, and I still wanted more.
We added noodle sari to the shabu-shabu broth, then fried rice in the remnants—total satisfaction on fullness alone. We divvied up cleanup roles, finished quick, and left the party room.
"Everyone busing it? I need 5513."
"Me too. You guys?"
"5511."
"...Me too."
The last weak voice was Yoo Seol-ah's. Same bus. She'd drunk hard, but didn't seem wrecked—walking straight. Probably mana-managed the buzz.
We headed to the stop together.
"Already here. You opposite direction?"
"Yeah. Text when you're home~"
"Sure, guys. I'm off. Group chat soon."
The president boarded first; Lee Seo-yeon waved as her bus neared and crossed to the other stop.
Just Yoo Seol-ah and me.
"This stop?"
"Yeah. Not far—six stops..."
"Six stops is Sungdae Entrance, right? That's my stop too."
Same stop? She lived close. Makes sense—tons of one-rooms and two-rooms there, practically sacred student housing ground.
"Here it is. Hop on."
Past 11, bus was empty. We sat side by side; it pulled out right away. Even with buzz control, she'd drunk a lot and was mentally drained—she closed her eyes immediately. No booze smell up close. Instead, her unique scent hit stronger—vanilla-like, subtle and mysterious. I'd noticed it when we met, but this near? Mesmerizing.
Three stops in, her dozing head bobbed, bumping my shoulder then away.
"......"
I glanced—long lashes, skin so pale and flawless it was almost transparent. Asleep, she had this icy, unreal beauty. Talking thawed it into cute charm.
I gently guided her still-wobbling head to rest on me.
"Gotta get off soon."
"......Ah, thanks."
Stop alert woke her; she blinked awake, snapped her head back upright.
Fresh air hit as we exited.
"How far?"
"Five minutes-ish?"
"I'll walk you home."
I gestured for her to lead, but she eyed me defiantly in place.
"I'm good. Streets are lit."
"Still worried."
"...What are you, the pure romcom male lead?"
"Nah, just thinking of that creep who might try something."
Joke, obviously. She was stronger than me—no real worry. Even daytime, I'd have walked her.
"Ugh, seriously... annoying."
Words said, but she was already smiling. We strolled in the cool night air.
She stopped at a tall building.
"Here?"
"Yeah."
Nice place. Her illustration page raked it in, after all.
"Well, next time..."
"Hey."
Her small hand grabbed my half-turned wrist. I looked back—her obsidian eyes locked on mine, drawing me in.
"Come in for one more drink?"
"......"
I nodded slowly. Couldn't refuse.