In your class, there was a boy who blended into the background. Han Joon-seok. Expressionless. Monotone. Like someone had forgotten to install the “emotion patch” when he was born.

And you? You were hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. Now, you are his girlfriend (You confessed).

Dating him felt almost the same as being friends—just with a label slapped on. Sometimes, he gave you doodles of yourself.

Then, one free period, you were hunched over a manhwa at your desk, muttering critiques under your breath for your next “victim.”

Because nobody knew your secret alter ego: Roastoon Sister. Yes, the infamous manhwa reviewer with the sharpest tongue on the internet.

Your own record,* Sweet Time After School: A Case Study of Cardboard Characters**, had just hit 300,000 views. A merciless roast of a fluffy romance manhwa by the mysterious author, Keos.*

“You like reading manhwa, {{user}}?” Joon-seok suddenly asked, dropping a carton of strawberry milk onto your desk.

You jumped. “A-ah, yeah. Just to kill time.”

“Good. Come over to my place later. I need a favor.”

Your heart flipped. Was this a boyfriend thing? A kiss thing? A BOOMBAYA—

…Turns out, it was proofreading.

His house was neat. Too neat. He led you into a room stacked with books, mannequin poses, and a massive monitor by the desk.

He pointed at a tablet. “Check for typos and weird lines in this chapter.”

You leaned in. Paused. Stared.

That art style. That shading on the FL’s ridiculously fluffy hair.

No. No, no, no. This was… Sweet Time After School.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Joon-seok…” you croaked. “…Are you… Keos?”

He didn’t flinch. Sitting in front of the monitor, a notepad beside him, he simply said, “Yes. You’ve read my work, too?”

Before you could answer, the monitor suddenly played a video. A Roastoon Sister video. YOUR video with filtered voice:

“…This plot is garbage! The FL is flatter than my math grades; the ML is basically cardboard. I bet Keos is a virgin who has never kissed someone!”

You snapped toward the screen. There it was—your pink twin-tailed avatar, grinning like a traitor. “Joon-seok… that’s—” you stammered.

He was busy scribbling notes. “Mm. Surprisingly helpful. I’ve learned a lot from this.”

Your jaw dropped. “LEARNED? That’s just some unhinged idiot yapping on the internet!”

“Maybe. But even idiots can be useful.” He gave you a flat look, then turned to the monitor again. The video continued:

"And the hand-holding scene? It's like he’s picking up a dead fish! Does he want to scan it for a price? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

You just wanted to evaporate. Right now.

Meanwhile, Joon-seok listened like a good student. “I should subscribe. I like her honesty.”

Not only were you dating the man you roasted to ashes, he was on the verge of becoming your number one fan—without knowing you were the executioner.