My Popular-as-Hell Best Friend Is Annoying, So I Want to Get Him a Girlfriend and Shut Him Up - Chapter 139 & 140 & 141

Chapter 139: Instant Defeat

It’s 3 p.m. After about two hours of silent work in a room with over ten people, we decided to take a break. Everyone fled from problems and formulas, heading to the lounge area.

Since setting the stage with Kamishiro Haruka, I think the Uryu conquest has been going pretty well.

Rando-dono made the first move, securing Uryu, but Natori Mayoi quickly followed with her own questions. She seemed to have a ton of questions saved up, as it took her a while to return from the lounge.

After that, Rando-dono and Natori Mayoi each asked Uryu once more, wrapping up the first half. Some things went as expected, others didn’t.

Tsukikage Miharu was predictable. She’s not usually super proactive, but more importantly, there’s the fundamental issue of whether Uryu can even answer the questions of a humanities topper like her. In that sense, it’s only natural she hasn’t talked to him much.

Misono Izumo’s the same. She’d ask Uryu if she didn’t understand something, but right now, she’s probably focused on outstudying him for the exam. The actions of threats like Rando-dono and Natori Mayoi might actually be a welcome distraction for her, as she aims to widen the gap with Uryu.

The surprise was, unsurprisingly, Kirita Akari. She’s not as bold as Rando-dono, but she’s the type to follow through once she commits. I thought she’d join Rando-dono and Natori Mayoi in asking Uryu, but she spent the whole two hours studying in the lobby.

Sure, she’s humanities-focused too, but she should have some questions she could ask. If she’s holding back because Uryu’s too busy to focus on his own studies, that’s unnecessary worry. Holding back like that is a pointless act nobody will appreciate.

I was mentally reviewing the battle, but the study session’s only halfway done, and there’s tomorrow too. Judging based on the initial momentum would be hasty. It’s a bit unfair to judge without seeing the whole picture.

For now, it’s break time. I need to refresh for the second half. Not that I’ve studied much.

“Yukki, wanna play ‘Word Werewolf’!?”

“Word Werewolf?”

Entering the lounge a bit late, I saw Kamishiro Haruka, who’d apparently been pestering Horimoto Shoki with questions, holding up her smartphone.

Word Werewolf, in short, is a “find the odd one out” game. Each player gets a topic and converses based on it, but one person has a different topic, and the goal is to identify them through conversation.

The key is you can’t talk too openly about your topic.

That’s because the odd one out can win by guessing the majority’s topic—a safety net. So, even if you pinpoint the odd one out through detailed talk, if they guess your topic, you lose. The thrill of Word Werewolf is finding the odd one out without revealing too much about your topic (per Kamishiro Haruka).

“What about Rando-dono and the others?”

“We’re new to it, so we want to get a feel for it first.”

“Says you, but it’s my first time too.”

The first players were Kamishiro Haruka, Tsukikage Miharu, Kirita Akari, Natori Mayoi, Uryu, Horimoto Shoki, and me—seven in total. The first-year duo and Tsuyu were sitting it out for now.

“…I want to see who’s got the sharpest mind from the sidelines.”

Ignoring the terrifying mutterings of a third-year middle schooler, we formed a circle around the table.

Kamishiro Haruka passed her phone clockwise. Apparently, there’s an app for Word Werewolf, and you check your topic before passing it to the next person.

“I hope I can do this.”

“It’ll be fine. Everyone but Kamishiro’s a beginner, right?”

“Here, Yukki’s next.”

“Got it.”

Taking the phone from Kamishiro Haruka, I tapped the screen to check my topic.

“Your topic is long-distance relationship.”

I tapped back to the main screen and passed it to Uryu.

Long-distance relationship, huh? No clue if I’m the majority or the odd one out. Since it’s Word Werewolf, the other topic should be similar, but “short-distance relationship” isn’t a thing. It’s gotta be romance-related, but I can’t narrow it down yet. Is “long-distance” the key?

“Alright, everyone’s seen their topics? Let’s start!”

At Kamishiro Haruka’s signal, everyone nodded. It’s just a game, but my tongue’s getting dry. There’s a weird tension.

“Ready, go!”

With her shout, Kamishiro Haruka tapped her phone. The screen showed “03:00,” counting down by the second. Looks like the time limit’s three minutes.

…

For a few seconds, nobody spoke, not even the experienced Kamishiro Haruka.

I get it. Nobody knows what words might tip off the odd one out. In that case, it’s better to drip-feed information based on the flow. Starting off, you let others take the lead.

But that’s a beginner’s mindset.

“Horimoto Shoki, you ever experienced this?”

You don’t need to share info just because you start the talk. If you don’t want to, take control and ask questions. That way, you can steer the conversation without revealing your topic.

How’s that, everyone? This is my ultimate defense. If someone questions me, I’ll deflect and say anyone but Horimoto Shoki should talk first. That should secure me eternal peace, but—

“Eh!? No way I have!”

Horimoto Shoki, genuinely shocked, waved his right hand wildly. What’s with that reaction? Sure, getting called out on love experience might sting, but is it worth denying that dramatically? This guy’s suspicious.

“Haha, Holy, that’s so blatant it’s suspicious.”

“Eh, I’m suspicious!?”

Pointed out by Kamishiro Haruka, Horimoto Shoki panicked even more. The pretty-boy I thought was just gray turned pitch-black in seconds.

“By the way, Yukki’s 100% never done it either, right?”

Having already spotted the odd one out, I was feeling pretty relaxed.

“You’re right, but it’s not like it’s 100% impossible.”

That’s why I didn’t hesitate to talk about my topic when Kamishiro Haruka asked. Savoring my overwhelming victory, I explained, only to realize—

—Everyone except Horimoto Shoki was smirking at me.

“Yukiya, that was an impressively clean wipeout.”

“Huh…?”

Seeing my dumbfounded reaction, the group’s energy spiked. Kamishiro Haruka was laughing out loud, and I was completely out of the loop.

Wait, am I the one losing here?

Chapter 140: Round Two

“Don’t mess with me!!”

“Hahaha!!”

In this lively, laughter-filled scene, I was bitterly lamenting a great injustice.

To cut to the chase, I was the odd one out and lost because I couldn’t guess the topic.

Let’s be clear: I’m not mad about failing to guess the topic. I’m furious about the topic itself.

Realizing early on that I was the odd one out from everyone’s reactions, I bombarded the majority with questions to extract information. If I could just guess their topic, I’d win.

But these guys, already knowing I was the odd one out, didn’t share much, clearly enjoying my reactions. I can’t blame them since I was careless, but Kirita Akari and Horimoto Shoki vaguely chimed in, so I thought I’d figured it out.

I was convinced their topic was “marriage.” For a romance-related topic that Horimoto Shoki and I would 100% never have experienced, marriage fit perfectly. That explained why I self-destructed right away—asking “Have you done it?” was fundamentally wrong.

I had doubts about “long-distance relationship” pairing with “marriage,” but confident in my victory, I didn’t dwell on it. I kept up the “Not yet, don’t laugh” act until the time ran out and I was picked as the odd one out. Then I boldly declared their topic, muttering, “I win, you losers.”

“What’s this ‘arranged marriage’ nonsense!? There’s no way I’d guess that!”

Sadly, the topic had a bizarre modifier, and I suffered a second defeat in one game. Probably because I was so confident, the lounge erupted in laughter again.

“I win, you losers, huh…!”

“Stop! My stomach hurts!”

Natori Mayoi and Kamishiro Haruka were doubled over laughing. My claim that the topic was unfair should be valid, but the conversation kept veering to “me losing after a cool line.” What’s with this humiliating treatment?

“Ugh, enough laughing! Hurry up and let me have my revenge!!”

I grabbed the smartphone in the center of the table, returned to the start screen, and tossed it to Kamishiro Haruka.

No way I’m ending on this loss. I’ll seize an overwhelming victory.

“Since Yukki’s itching for round two, let’s start right away.”

“Don’t say unnecessary stuff!”

Wiping tears from laughing too hard, Kamishiro Haruka began operating the phone again. Thinking back, she pretended to be on my side while setting me up. It’s probably an experienced player’s trick, but it won’t work on me twice—I’ve learned the danger of letting my guard down.

Reflecting on last time, I checked the topic on the phone. “Game-loving opposite sex.” Another romance-related topic. Normally, the other topic might be something like “art-loving opposite sex” or “sports-loving opposite sex,” but the first round’s topic was so unexpected that I’m tempted to give up thinking. Either way, I should listen to the conversation to figure out if I’m in the majority.

“Alright, let’s begin!”

Round two of Word Werewolf started, but silence fell again. It goes against the game’s spirit, but after seeing my disaster, anyone would get cautious. Hirose Yukiya became a sacrifice, a victim of Word Werewolf’s merciless newbie-crushing nature.

“Huh, Yukki, you’re not saying anything?”

“Shut up. I’m staying quiet for a while.”

I brushed off Kamishiro Haruka’s teasing. I don’t care if it’s boring—this time, I’m not talking. Nobody’s complaining, probably because the first round’s still lingering. I appreciate the consideration, but please forget it soon. The cool line too.

“Fine! I’ll be the moderator this time!”

Fed up with the stalled situation, Kamishiro Haruka turned to Tsukikage Miharu beside her.

“Miha-chan, what do you think about this?”

Hearing her question, I couldn’t help but put a hand to my forehead.

Right, there’s that safe question. The response might be vague, but it barely leaks info from the answerer. Damn you, Kamishiro Haruka, you should’ve mentioned that in the rules.

“Hmm, I don’t have a great impression of it.”

Tsukikage Miharu’s first comment caught me off guard. For the topic “game-loving opposite sex,” if I had to say good or bad, I’d say good since I love games and don’t mind if the opposite sex does too. So, her negative opinion feels off, but if she doesn’t like games, it’s not surprising. Calm down, let’s listen more carefully.

“But I think it can be seen positively. For confident people.”

Kamishiro Haruka nodded slightly at Tsukikage Miharu’s follow-up. She seems convinced, but my head’s a mess. Does “confident” mean skilled at games? It’s possible to see skilled people positively regardless of liking games, but…

Despite the specific clue of “positive for confident people,” the situation isn’t progressing. It’s painfully clear how clueless I was last round.

No, it’s different. Tsukikage Miharu’s phrasing is just clever. She’s showing off her humanities-topper skills.

“What about you, Ururun?”

“It’s not Ururun, but it seems like something people would love or hate. I don’t mind either way.”

“That’s such an Ururun answer.”

“It’s not Ururun.”

Kamishiro Haruka seems satisfied with Ururun’s response, but it raises red flags for me. I get the “love or hate” part, but “don’t mind either way” is suspicious. I don’t think Ururun would dislike game-loving girls, so is he casually bluffing?

“By the way, I think Mayo-nee would see it positively.”

“Yeah, I think it’s fine. Partly because I like it myself.”

Finally, a response I can vibe with. Huh, Natori Mayoi likes games?

“For me, it’s more fun with two or three people than alone.”

“Yup, that’s way more fun!”

Kamishiro Haruka enthusiastically agrees with Natori Mayoi. From my perspective, these two are likely in the clear. Saying group fun fits games perfectly.

That makes Ururun the most suspicious. His topic probably isn’t games, but how do I corner him? I want to question him without revealing I suspect him, but if I suddenly start talking, it’ll be obvious.

“On the flip side, if we’re talking about who’d hate it, Yukiya comes to mind first.”

While I was strategizing, Ururun, starting the conversation himself, made a glaring mistake.

If his topic was game-loving opposite sex, he wouldn’t say that so boldly. He knows I love games. Sure, I might not feel strongly about it, but he wouldn’t state it so definitively.

No doubt about it—Ururun’s the odd one out this time!

“Yeah, I totally get it!! Yukki would hate it!!”

—Or so I thought, until Kamishiro Haruka’s agreement flipped my theory upside down.

Huh? What? Why are you agreeing?

Chapter 141: Supreme Reasoning

Calm down, me. Since Kamishiro Haruka jumped on Ururun’s comment, it’s easy to predict that the question will come to me next. I need to organize my thoughts before then.

I initially judged Kamishiro Haruka as in the clear, but since she said I’d likely hate game-loving opposite sex, I need to rethink. She doesn’t know I’m a gamer, but even so, I don’t think she’d use such extreme phrasing unless her topic was something sharp.

…Crap, I might be the odd one out again.

“So, Yukki? Are Ururun and I right?”

“Tell me what you think first.”

“Eh!? I’ve already said a ton while moderating!”

I sidestep to buy thinking time.

If I’m the odd one out, agreeing with their “I’d hate it” claim isn’t a bad move. They’re giving me an impression to work with, so matching their story, even if it’s a lie, will make me less suspicious.

But since Ururun started this and Kamishiro Haruka jumped in, they might be teaming up to trap me. If I dodge with vague answers, they could lock onto me with follow-up questions.

In short, I should act assuming their topic.

“I got played by you last time, so I’m not saying anything until you do.”

“Even if you say that, my thoughts are pretty much the same as Mayo-nee’s. I’m not interested in doing it alone, though.”

I press Kamishiro Haruka again, my brain working overtime.

The big clues are Uryu’s vague phrasing and Natori Mayoi’s positive stance, saying she does it too.

Assuming the topic is “opposite sex who loves X,” if it’s games, Uryu would likely view it positively. Even for broad topics like sports or music-loving opposite sex, he’d probably be favorable.

So, this topic is likely narrow, like “sepak takraw-loving opposite sex” or “hip-hop-loving opposite sex.” Just as someone can love vegetables but hate tomatoes, it’s specific.

Guessing the topic, then, is like walking an impossibly steep path. Is it basketball, soccer, or another sport? I’d have to verify each one.

There’s no time for that, so I need to deduce it from Natori Mayoi’s response, using what even Uryu finds hard to view positively.

If Natori Mayoi likes it, it’s something you’d guess knowing her personality.

It’s not just about knowing she likes games—it’s something that oozes from her core.

Natori Mayoi, huh? I haven’t talked to her much, so I don’t know her inner self. The first thing that comes to mind is her rudeness toward me, but that’s true for others too.

She used to have a gloomy, ex-bully vibe, but now that’s gone, replaced by a confident image. When we talked in the gym, she was all about how great her style is.

“Can be seen positively. For confident people.”

Then I recalled what Tsukikage Miharu said earlier.

Confident—she definitely said that.

I thought she meant gaming skill, but it’s something you’d judge knowing the person.

No, confidence here ties to appearance, doesn’t it?

If you’re confident in your looks, you’d view it positively. That makes sense for Natori Mayoi. This is a solid lead, right?

So, I should think of something people confident in their looks would like—or something those lacking confidence would hate.

Imagining such scenes from daily life—

—And the first thing that hit me was “photos.”

That’s it. Nothing else fits.

In the context of appearance, nothing captures and preserves it as clearly as photos. If someone said Natori Mayoi would like that, I’d kinda agree.

But “photo-loving opposite sex” feels too vague. It could include a photographer vibe, which shifts the meaning slightly.

“C’mon, Yukki, I’ve talked a ton now! Your turn!”

Kamishiro Haruka throws the question at me at the perfect moment. Sorry, I wasn’t listening to what you said.

But in return, I’ll stir things up big time, so enjoy the chaos till the end.

“To cut to the chase, I don’t have a bad impression. I don’t mind people who are bold about it.”

“Oh, right. You’re the type to openly praise that stuff, Yukki.”

“No way, sure they’re bold, but isn’t that totally not your thing?”

“Don’t decide my preferences. I’m not interested in people who hide behind doing it with two or three.”

“Hah, it’s not hiding—it’s hyping up!”

“Calm down, Mayo-nee. Like Ururun said, Yukki’s positive take is just different.”

“It’s not Ururun.”

The conversation paused, and I didn’t seem suspicious at all. The target shifted to Kirita Akari and Horimoto Shoki. Occasional questions came my way, but assuming the topic was “opposite sex who loves being photographed,” I spoke confidently and avoided deeper scrutiny.

“Ugh, I have no idea!”

Three minutes passed, and it was voting time, but Kamishiro Haruka was visibly clutching her head. Unlike the first round, no one stood out as obviously suspicious.

I wanted to vote and end it, but that could be used against me, so I stayed quiet. Maybe because I was the odd one out last time, they’re unconsciously ruling me out, and I could barely keep from smirking.

“Alright, I’ll count down, then point at who you think’s the odd one out. Three, two, one!”

At Kamishiro Haruka’s call, everyone pointed at their suspected odd one out.

Horimoto Shoki got the most votes—four. Poor guy, his nervous, clumsy explanations made him look suspicious. Naturally, I pointed at him too.

Other than that, Tsukikage Miharu got one vote, and Kirita Akari got one.

And—Ururun pointed at me.

I didn’t show it, but my heart skipped a beat. I don’t know if it was a random guess or instinct, but if he thought I was the most suspicious in those three minutes, he’s impressive.

“No way!? Yukki again!?”

“And with game lovers? It’s totally different!”

“Of course, I knew your topic from the start.”

I smirked smugly at the shocked Kamishiro Haruka and Natori Mayoi. Man, I’m feeling on top of the world right now.

The phone screen revealed the main topic: “opposite sex who loves selfies.” Well, that’s basically a bullseye. Nailing it from no hints is pretty damn good.

“That’s amazing, Yukiya-kun. How’d you figure it out?”

“Yukiya’s brain goes into overdrive for stuff like this.”

“Haha, Uryu-kun, isn’t that a bit of sore loser talk?”

It was my overwhelming victory. I get the feeling, but saying it out loud makes you look petty. You should just praise me honestly like Tsukikage Miharu.

“…By the way, this app’s topics aren’t even remotely similar.”

Yeah, that’s the biggest problem.