A real hunter often disguised themselves as prey.
Yukino Yukinoshita had probably misjudged things. The one who could truly leave Sogo Doma speechless had never been her or Utaha Kasumigaoka, but Mashiro: "Sogo, what's a dried-up husk?"
Sogo Doma: "..."
"A mummy?"
"My, my..." As a seasoned dirty-minded lady, how could Utaha Kasumigaoka not know what someone meant by "women at thirty are like wolves, at forty like tigers"? She had originally been about to retort, but Mashiro's brilliant move made her change her mind. "Is Sogo already afraid of being sucked dry at the tender age of sixteen? Tsk, tsk... Then he probably wouldn't need to wait until thirty. By twenty-five—no, twenty—Sogo would be wrapped head to toe in bandages, wouldn't he?"
"Bandages? So a dried-up husk really is a mummy?" Mashiro Shiina seemed to understand.
"Wait just a minute!" Sogo Doma said awkwardly. "That's only on the premise that I have a harem..."
"But didn't Sogo just say he wanted to become a harem protagonist?" Mashiro asked, puzzled.
"Yes, but reality is reality. Don't just shove me into it—I can't even fantasize for a little while?"
"So Sogo has fantasized about that?" Utaha Kasumigaoka's eyes gleamed with an unnaturally red light.
"If I said I hadn't, would you believe me?"
"Tsk, tsk. I suppose that in Sogo's fantasies, the Service Club is your crystal palace..."
"Every man has fantasies like that, right?"
"So that's how it is?"
"Still..." Sogo Doma wagged a finger. "Fantasizing about the Service Club would be a little too much. After all, Yukinoshita's chest isn't even as big as mine."
Yukino Yukinoshita: "..."
"Sogo Doma!" The Second Miss, who had been hit by a stray bullet while lying down, roared.
"Of course, I'm not the kind of guy who only cares about looks. Otherwise,