Alright! I Just Have to Take It Off! Yoo Ara

Yoo Ara, a 22nd-year student at the Korean Hunter Academy. At twenty-one years old, she'd been held back a year. She should have been in her second-year classes, but because of that repeat, she was stuck taking lessons with the freshmen who had just enrolled this year. One more repeat, and she'd be expelled from the academy.

Her written exams were near-perfect, but her practical scores were always lacking. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't perform in spars, and she failed monster-hunting simulations every time. Her trait was Telekinesis. The skill was too ambiguous for combat, healing, or buffs, so it didn't shine in practical classes focused on fighting and civilian rescues. That's why she always got failing grades.

Then, by sheer chance, she spotted a flyer.

It was a tutoring flyer. The audacious claim of teaching students from the Korean Hunter Academy. But the full-refund promise tempted her. At least, there was no risk for her.

Do nothing, and she'd be expelled. Tutoring cost 5 million won—not a small sum. She'd already spent 40 million won to attend the academy, her parents' money. She'd promised to pay it back with a scholarship and pushed herself relentlessly, but failed. She tried again. For the repeat year, she only had to pay half, so she borrowed from a savings bank. The interest was steep, but success would fix everything.

Failed again. Dropping out now meant losing 30 million won. No way. Six years studying to get in, two years at the academy, and 30 million won on the line. She couldn't lose it all. So she turned to loan sharks.

'I'll pay it back.' Pass the regular exam, and they'd refund the 5 million won. Use that to settle the debt. Terrifying, but for becoming a hunter, she'd do anything. She poured every last won into this tutoring. No—her fate hung on it.

Then she heard the most ridiculous line of her life.

"What did you say?"

Yoo Ara shot back without thinking, her tone rough. Take off her clothes? What did that have to do with tutoring?

"Are you insane?"

It made no sense.

"Didn't you say you'd do anything?"

"Even so, this is too much! Take off my clothes? Why should I?!"

The man the tutoring rep brought was unfazed. Shameless, really? His expression didn't flicker—like he'd done this a hundred times. They said he was a skilled tutor, but this guy was a pervert, not a teacher. Top graduate? Total lie. She should have verified it properly. The academy stamp fooled her into trusting. This man—no, the whole company—was a scam.

The first tutor assigned to her was no better. Barking orders, insisting he was always right, crushing her without trying to convince. Inefficient as hell. Her scores barely budged in the monthly eval before the regular exam. Some might say that's progress, but at this rate, she'd barely avoid last place, let alone pass.

Scammed. One hundred percent. She thought pricey tutoring would change things, but time and money wasted. At least refunds were possible.

'I'll talk to the boss right now and get my refund...'

"Not that desperate, huh?"

The pervert sounded triumphant.

"What?"

"Two fails per year means repeat. Two repeats, expulsion. One more fail, and you're out—yet you're acting all high and mighty? Prefer getting kicked out doing nothing?"

"Is that for you to say? Telling a stranger to strip on sight?"

"Did you pull this on the last tutor? Looked down on him because his theory scores were high, gave a half-assed check, and missed the real issue?"

"What do you know?"

"What do I know?"

The pervert smirked.

"I at least get why you're so desperate for tutoring. Why pay big bucks, why ditch the old guy and call me in."

"You heard my story from the boss..."

"Did you ask why I told you to strip?"

"Pardon?"

She hadn't. Just recoiled in disgust at the demand.

"Why? Why tell me to strip out of nowhere?"

"To know you inside and out."

"Pervert after all..."

Yoo Ara hugged her shoulders, glaring in revulsion.

"To figure why you keep failing and how to fix it. Not some dirty fantasy."

"That works?"

"Don't underestimate a top grad."

His eyes weren't perverted.

"You can really tell?"

"Don't believe me? Fine. I'll leave, say bye, take my fee."

......

He stood without hesitation. He was right. She was the desperate one. He just taught.

"W-wait! Fine! Okay! I just have to take it off!"

Yoo Ara squeezed her eyes shut. No other choice. She wanted to kick out the boss who tricked her and this pervert with his nonsense, but...

'Kick him out? Then what about me?'

Just fail? Alone, she had no confidence. She'd fail like always. One month to the second exam. Zero confidence after bombing the monthly eval.

"Not convincing. Hurry up and strip."

"H-how far?"

"Until you're sincere. Show your desperation."

Pervert. Total pervert.

'Endure. Just this once.' Close her eyes, get through it.

Swish.

I silently watched Yoo Ara undress before me. No words, just observing. Stripping tested how far she'd go—and let me appraise her. Nothing more.

Though she didn't see it that way.

'Results depend on how far you let go.'

I'd just watch her choice.

May, late spring edging into early summer heat. Yoo Ara wore a blue shirt over a white tee, black knee-length shorts. Casual ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠homewear with a touch of formality.

She shed the blue shirt without pause, then the tee.

Swish. Face flushing, biting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her lip each time, but compliant. Simple reason: desperation. Didn't want academy expulsion.

A light blue bra strained against her large breasts. Topless, she dropped the shorts. Matching panties emerged—cute with a front ribbon.

"That's it?"

"M-more?"

"Your call."

Her tired eyes glared.

"If you're fully stripped, done."

I approached.

"Hand out."

"My... hand?"

"Yeah. Gotta check your state first. Like a doctor taking pulse."

......

"Hate it? Stop here then. Good resolve, but that's your limit..."

"Fine! Why rush me? I need to think!"

Blushing, she extended her hand.

"Should've from the start."

I kneaded her small hand. No fighter's calluses—just the pencil-grip one on her middle finger.

"H-hey, what kind of touching..."

My hands slid up her wrists.

"Pretty high rank for Telekinesis."

"W-what?"

"B-rank Telekinesis should be efficient. Why not use it?"

"H-hey, how..."

Ignoring her panic, I massaged her forearms and shoulders.

"Better as mid-party support with Telekinesis than rear."

"W-what does that mean?"

"Telling you your best style. Memo it."

My hands kneaded lower.

"H-hey, not there..."

"Expelled and done?"

She clamped her mouth shut. I massaged her large breasts.

"Haah!"

Her body squirmed under my touch.

"W-wait, too lewd... Hnngh."

"Focus. No distractions."

Bra blocking attributes? Annoying, but I couldn't strip it yet. Fingertips traced her waist down delicately. She twitched, but irrelevant.

Abysmal stats except intelligence. B-rank hunter potential, but others dragged her to water-grade.

Skipped groin area.

Annoying omissions, but key info secured. Fingers trailed thighs, calves, toes. Useless data.

But the final summary floored me.

S potential? This girl? Why? Appraisal doesn't lie. So it must be true.

"Done."

Hiding my shock, I told the panting Yoo Ara.

She staggered up, glaring, grinding her teeth.

"You pervert!"

She swung her hand.