Conquering Villains and Capturing Targets Is Harder in Real Life than in Games

48: You're much more wild and unihibited than I would've imagined.

"Because I messed up," he mumbled.

Shizuka tilted her head. "How exactly did you mess up?"

"Just yesterday I said all this stuff about wanting our first kiss to be special...but then I went off and did that...." Madoka shrank further into a ball. "I momentarily lost control and ended up acting inappropriately."

So...this is him...repenting?

"You have the right to be mad and upset or even resentful," he acknowledged slowly, "but I can't bear to see you dislike me so I'm not coming out...If I can't see you then it'll be okay..."

Wait, what? What kind of logic is that?!

After a long moment, Shizuka lowered her body and reached under the table. Hooking her arms underneath Madoka's armpits, she attempted to drag him out using force.

When she felt Madoka resisting, she strengthened her hold. "Behave. Or else I really will hate you."

Madoka instantly relaxed his body, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be dragged across the rooftop like an old oversized carnival prize being taken to the donation centre.

Once she had successfully dragged him into the light, Shizuka unceremoniously released Madoka leaving his limp upper body to fall backwards with a dull thud.

Had it not been for his chest cavity rhythmically rising and falling, with his closed eyes, spiritless expression, and sprawled out limbs, the flatly laying Madoka might have been mistaken for a corpse.

However, this all changed in an instant when Madoka felt something pressing down on his abdominal region and curiously opened his eyes.

When he saw that a certain someone was now lying perpendicular to him and using his stomach as a pillow, he instinctively tried to sit up in a panic. "S-S-Shizuka?"

With no intentions of changing her position, Shizuka lightly smacked his waist. "Stay still."

Although Madoka meekly leaned back against the ground, he couldn't help but nervously fidgeting.

"Stop moving around," she chided. "My head will slide off at this rate."

With a frown, Shizuka used her hands to press down on his stomach.

But as soon as she started to do this, her expression grew unsightly and she darted upright. Could it be?!!

Then, with the speed and energy of someone who had drank a dozen cups of espresso in one sitting, she pounced on Madoka and forcefully lifted up the two layers of shirts he was wearing in one decisive movement.

Upon seeing Madoka's fully exposed abdomen Shizuka felt various emotions rise up from the depths of her heart including shock, anger, and jealousy.

The surge of emotions led Shizuka to lean forward and begin pounding at Madoka's chest with enclosed fists much like a child throwing a fit. "Semi Madoka, I'm so so so disappointed in you!"

"Ehhh? Why? W-What it is, Shizuka?" As a result of him suddenly being partially stripped, pinned down, and then attacked, the center in Madoka's brain responsible for speech seemingly malfunctioned. "What's ongoing–I mean what's going on?"

Shizuka grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly shook him. "You actually have the guts to ask me what's going on? What's going on is this!"

She jabbed a finger into his midsection. "Tell me the truth! When did you get this?"

"Get what?" he choked out with a florid face.

"This perfectly sculpted physique! How and when did you get these firm chest muscles and lean set of abs?!"