"Misunderstanding! It's a misunderstanding!"
Satoru and Geto hurriedly let go of each other, scrambling to explain.
"Opening!"
Souma seized the moment, sweeping both of their legs and knocking them to the ground in one smooth motion.
"I win!"
Satoru and Geto lay on the floor, faces full of resentment.
"That doesn't count! You attacked us while we were distracted!"
Souma spread his hands. "On the battlefield, no one cares if it's a sneak attack. If I were an enemy, you two would be dead already."
"Don't give us a lecture with that straight face! You totally cheated!"
"What? Are you guys trying to back out? A bet is a bet!"
Hearing this, Satoru and Geto turned pale.
Geto raised his hand weakly. "Um... can we change the wager?"
"Dame!"
Souma crossed his arms in a big 'X'.
He looked at Geto's resistant face and grinned.
"Suguru, if you fulfill the bet, I'll sell you Playful Cloud at a discount. Original price one billion yen. I'll give you fifty percent off!"
Geto immediately jumped to his feet.
"A gentleman never goes back on his word! How could I possibly renege on a bet?! Satoru, you should be ashamed of even thinking about backing out!"
Satoru: "..."
...
Fukutori District, Department Store.
Shoko followed Souma with a puzzled look.
"Souma, when you said there was something 'good to see' here, did you mean the cosplay convention?"
Shoko looked at the passing anime characters, wondering if she should ask for a photo.
Souma's mouth curled into a crooked grin. "No. I'm talking about something much better."
Shoko blinked. "Souma, do you know your smile right now looks incredibly creepy?"
"...Does it?"
Shoko nodded firmly. "You look like a creepy otaku peeping through a hole in the wall to watch beautiful girls change, right before pulling out a camera with bad intentions!"
"What kind of weirdly specific metaphor is that?"
Souma's eye twitched. He ruffled Shoko's hair vigorously. "Shut up. Trust me, in a minute, you'll be making the exact same face."
Shoko looked skeptical. Aside from cigarettes and alcohol, she wasn't interested in much.
"WOAH!!!"
Suddenly, a wave of gasps erupted from the crowd ahead.
Countless cosplayers, passersby, photographers, and normies swarmed toward the center of the hall.
In the middle of the crowd, two figures stood out conspicuously.
A 190cm Satoru Gojo and a 180cm-plus Suguru Geto towered over the average crowd like cranes in a flock of chickens.
But that wasn't the main point.
Their outstanding looks created the perfect canvas for cosplay.
One white-haired catgirl maid. One black-haired catgirl maid.
Explosive visual power. Tall, slender figures. Long legs wrapped in black stockings.
In an instant, they captivated the hearts of countless boys and girls.
"Hello! Can I take a picture?"
"I'm a photographer! Can I do a shoot?"
Satoru was already a veteran of this battlefield.
"Don't push, everyone! Take your time!"
"Holy crap! Traps!"
"They're guys... I'm even more excited!"
"Husband... no, Wifey! Wifey!"
"This one is a guy, so that one..."
Facing the intense gaze of the crowd, Geto, experiencing this for the first time, looked incredibly awkward.
He raised a hand weakly. "Um, I'm a guy too!"
Hiss—
The crowd sucked in a collective breath of cold air.
The female cosplayers nearby felt a wave of inferiority.
One was acceptable, but two? And apart from the lack of chest, their beauty and aura completely crushed the real girls.
What kind of world is this?
Why don't you guys just be women instead?!
Satoru draped an arm around Geto's shoulder. "Don't be so nervous. We're already here. Might as well have fun with it!"
Under Satoru's guidance, Geto—who was actively hypnotizing himself—gradually began to let go.
"One, two, three, cheese!"
The two of them smiled with devastating sweetness, striking poses that were sassier than the actual models.
On the second floor balcony.
"Pfft... HAHAHAHAHA... They... the two of them... BWAHAHAHA!"
Shoko was losing her mind laughing.
Souma silently pulled out his magenta camera, recording every second of this precious history.
"Suguru's blackmail material acquired!"
Seeing this, Shoko raised an eyebrow, whipped out her phone, and snapped a rapid-fire ten-shot burst.
...
Tokyo Jujutsu High, Principal's Office.
Masamichi Yaga stared at the photos Shoko had just sent him in silence.
In the photos, Catboy Satoru and Catboy Suguru were posing coquettishly, looking like they were having the time of their lives.
Yaga fell into deep contemplation, momentarily suspecting there was something wrong with his eyes.
He looked again—
Yeah. It was definitely his eyes.
Because they were burning.
"I'm getting too old for this. I can't understand young people anymore."