[Current Objective: Stop Class 2-A from making a terrible mistake.]
[Current Status: Ignored.]
"Okay, settle down, you goblins!"
The Class Rep slams a ruler on the chalkboard. Chalk dust explodes everywhere, choking the kid in the front row.
It's the School Festival Planning Meeting.
The most dangerous day of the year. This is where friendships die and budget deficits are born.
"We need a theme," the Rep announces. "Ideas?"
"Haunted House!" shouts a guy in the back.
"Boring," the Rep shoots it down. "Class 1-C is doing that. They have a budget for real fog machines. We can't compete with their capital."
"Cosplay Cafe!" shouts Mina.
"Too generic," someone else argues. "Every class does a cafe."
Then, the door slides open.
Song Hana enters.
She doesn't walk; she glides. She is holding a tablet and a projector remote. The air in the room drops five degrees.
"I have run the numbers," Hana says, plugging her tablet into the projector.
A pie chart appears on the screen. It is 90% pink.
"The highest ROI (Return on Investment) for our demographic is a 'Tsundere Butler & Maid Cafe'," she announces. "Target audience: thirsty upperclassmen and curious first-years."
The class murmurs.
"Butler cafe?"
"Do we have the budget for costumes?"
"Who's going to be the butler?"
Hana clicks the remote.
A photo appears on the screen.
It's me.
Specifically, it's the photo from the photoshoot where I look like a vampire contemplating murder.
"We have an asset," Hana says, pointing at my face with a laser pointer. "We have the 'Silent King'. If we put him in a tailcoat and make him say 'Welcome, Master,' our profit margins will increase by 400%."
Me: "OBJECTION!"
I stand up, knocking my chair over.
"I cannot be a butler! I have the grace of a newborn giraffe! I will spill coffee on people! I will ruin the economy!"
Hana adjusts her glasses. "Jinsu. Do you want to pay for the broken window you 'accidentally' leaned on yesterday?"
Me: "That window was already cracked!"
"I have the invoice right here," she taps the screen. "$300. Or... you work a six-hour shift as Head Butler."
The class turns to look at me.
Thirty pairs of eyes.
They are hungry. They smell profit.
"Do it for the class, Jinsu!" someone yells.
"Yeah! Sacrifice your dignity for our pizza party!"
I look at Yerin. She is sitting near the window.
She is wearing her headphones, staring intensely at a biology textbook. She hasn't looked at me since the "Test of Courage." Since the... incident.
Since she almost kissed me in the mud.
She feels my gaze. She looks up.
Her face instantly turns the color of a tomato. She hides behind the book.
Me (Internal): Great. My only ally is currently buffering. I am cooked.
"Fine," I slump back into my chair. "I'll be the butler. But I'm not saying the line."
Hana smirks. "Oh, you'll say the line. It's in the contract.
[Time: Two Days Later]
[Location: Empty Classroom]
[Activity: Hell.]
"Again!" Hana shouts. "With more feeling! You sound like you're reading a ransom note!"
I am standing in the middle of the room. I am wearing a towel around my neck to simulate a cravat.
I bow at a 45-degree angle.
"Welcome home... Master," I drone. My voice is flat. Dead.
"Terrible!" Hana throws a stress ball at me. It hits me in the forehead. Bonk.
"You need to sell the fantasy, Jinsu! You are happy to see them! You exist to serve!"
"I don't exist to serve," I argue, rubbing my head. "I exist to play League of Legends and sleep."
"Let me demonstrate," a deep voice rumbles.
Ryu Min-ho steps forward.
He is also a butler. But he looks less like a servant and more like a bodyguard for the Yakuza. His shirt buttons are screaming for mercy against his chest muscles.
Ryu bows perfectly. His back is straight as a board.
"WELCOME TO THE DOJO, MASTER!" he bellows. "I HAVE PREPARED YOUR TEA AND SHARPENED YOUR BLADE!"
Hana: "Too aggressive, Ryu. You're scaring the customers. We want 'elegant', not 'warrior poet'."
Ryu nods solemnly. "Understood. I shall meditate on softness."
Hana turns to Yerin.
Yerin is dressed in the maid outfit prototype.
It's... a lot. Frills. Apron. Headband with cat ears (why?).
She is standing in the corner, clutching a tray like a shield.
"Yerin, you try," Hana commands.
Yerin walks forward. Her legs are shaking.
She stands in front of me.
She looks at my face.
She freezes.
Flashback: The moon. The mud. Her thumb on my nose. Her lips parting.
She turns bright red.
"W-W-Welcome..." she stammers. "Welcome home... P-Pig!"
Me: "Pig?"
"I meant Master!" she squeaks. "I just... you looked at me and my brain said pig!"
She throws the tray on the floor.
CLANG.
"I can't do this!" she yells, and runs out of the room.
Hana sighs. She writes something on her clipboard.
"Tsundere factor is off the charts. Excellent. The customers will love the abuse."
Me: "Hana, are you a sociopath?"
"I am an entrepreneur, Jinsu. There is a fine line."
[System Update: The Festival has begun.]
[Current Crowd Level: Nightmare.]
The school is transformed. There are banners, food stalls, and people everywhere.
But Class 2-A is the main attraction.
Why?
Because Hana put a giant poster of me outside the door.
[THE SILENT BUTLER AWAITS YOU.]
I am in the changing room.
I put on the suit.
It's a black tailcoat. White gloves. A vest that cinches my waist (I can't breathe).
Hana also gave me a pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses.
"For the intellectual look," she said.
I look in the mirror.
[Reflection: Sebastian from Black Butler (if he had depression).]
I step out.
Mina whistles. "Damn, Jinsu. You clean up nice. You look like you own a bank."
"I feel like a penguin," I mutter.
Yerin is there.
She is wearing the final maid outfit. It fits perfectly. The black and white dress, the white knee-high socks.
She is adjusting her apron, aggressively tying the knot.
She sees me.
She stops tying. Her hands drop.
Her eyes go wide behind her bangs.
She scans me. Up. Down. Stops at the gloves. Stops at the glasses.
"You look..." she whispers.
"Ridiculous?" I offer.
"Dangerous," she mutters. She looks away, her ears burning red. "Button your vest properly. You look sloppy."
She walks over. She reaches out to fix my button.
Her fingers graze my chest.
We both freeze.
The electricity is back. The static shock.
"Thanks," I whisper.
"Don't get used to it," she snaps, pulling her hand away like she touched a hot stove. "I just don't want you embarrassing the class."
"Right. For the class."
"Places, everyone!" Hana claps her hands. "Doors open in five minutes! Remember the script! Smile! Be subservient! And Ryu, stop polishing the spoons, you're bending them!"
The doors open.
It is a stampede.
A literal horde of students rushes in.
"Table for four!"
"I want the window seat!"
"Where is Jinsu? I want the Silent King!"
I am thrown into the fire.
I grab a pitcher of water. I walk to the first table.
It's a group of senior girls. They are giggling.
"Welcome," I say. My voice is monotone. I push up my glasses. "Water?"
Girl 1: "Oh my god. He's so cold. I love it."
Girl 2: "Can you say the line? Please?"
I sigh. A long, weary sigh.
I look at them with dead eyes.
"Welcome home... Master."
They scream.
Actual screaming.
"HE SAID IT! HE LOOKED SO DISGUSTED! IT'S PERFECT!"
Me (Internal): Why? Why do you like this? I am actively judging you.
I move to the next table.
Yerin is serving cake.
Her hands are shaking. The cake is wobbling on the plate.
She sets it down.
"Here is your... stupid cake," she mumbles.
Customer (Male): "Thank you! Could you... maybe look at me with disdain?"
Yerin: "Hah? Eat your food before I throw it away!"
Customer: "Yes! Thank you!"
Me: This entire school is filled with masochists. We are doomed.
Ryu is at the door, acting as the bouncer/greeter.
"HALT!" he shouts at a first-year student. "YOUR SHOELACES ARE UNTIED! A WARRIOR MUST NOT TRIP!"
Ryu kneels down and ties the kid's shoes.
The kid looks terrified but grateful.
"Enoy your tea," Ryu says, bowing.
Hana is at the register. The cash register is dinging constantly.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
She has dollar signs in her eyes.
"Yes, photos are extra. $5 for a polaroid. $10 for a headpat."
Me: "I AM NOT SELLING HEADPATS, HANA!"
"Too late, someone already pre-ordered five."
An hour passes.
I am exhausted. My social battery is at -10%.
I am leaning against the counter, cleaning a glass just to avoid eye contact with humanity.
Then, the atmosphere changes.
The door opens.
But it's not a normal entry. It's an entrance.
A girl walks in.
She's not wearing our school uniform. It's a beige blazer with a plaid skirt—Sehwa High School. The elite private school next district over.
She has blonde hair (dyed perfectly). Blue contact lenses.
She is holding a designer bag.
She scans the room.
She ignores Ryu (who is trying to take her coat).
She ignores Yerin (who is glaring at her).
Her eyes lock onto me.
She smiles.
It's a confident smile. A predator's smile.
She walks straight to the center table. She sits down.
She snaps her fingers.
Snap.
"You," she points at me. "Butler. Menu."
I walk over.
"Welcome," I say. "Here is the—"
"I don't need the menu," she interrupts. She props her chin on her hand, staring up at me.
"I saw your photo on Bamboo Forest. The 'Vampire Duke'."
"That was a misunderstanding," I say.
"I'm Mary," she says. She extends a hand. "Mary Kim. I transferred from LA last month."
I look at her hand. I'm supposed to shake it?
I shake it.
She doesn't let go. She pulls me slightly closer.
"Your hands are cold," she says, grinning. "I like that."
Me: "I... I have poor circulation."
"You're funny," she laughs. It's a loud, clear laugh. "I like funny guys. Hey, Butler. Are you on the menu?"
The cafe goes silent.
The ambient chatter stops.
Yerin, who was carrying a tray of iced tea three tables away, freezes.
Me: "Excuse me?"
"You," Mary repeats. "Can I order you? For take-out?"
[System Alert: New Challenger Approaching.]
[Type: Genki / Aggressive Western Style.]
[Threat Level: High.]
"I am not food," I say, pulling my hand back. "I am a human being with a GPA of 3.2."
"Cute," Mary says. "Okay, how about this. I'll buy the most expensive thing on the menu if you give me your Number."
Crowd: "Gaspppp."
"She asked for his number!"
"She's so direct!"
"Is this a K-Drama?"
I stand there, processing.
A girl is asking for my number. A pretty girl. A rich girl.
Usually, this is where the protagonist stammers and blushes.
But I am Jinsu.
I am just confused.
"Why?" I ask. "Do you need tech support? I'm good with computers."
Mary blinks. Then she laughs harder. She slaps the table.
"Oh my god, you are real! You're actually like this! I love it! Yes, I need tech support. Support for my lonely heart!"
She winks.
"So? Digits. Now."
Before I can answer, a shadow falls over the table.
Dark aura.
Tremendous pressure.
Baek Yerin is standing there.
She is holding the tray of iced tea. The ice is rattling because her hands are shaking with rage.
Her eyes are shadowed by her bangs.
She looks like the final boss of a horror game.
"Customer," Yerin says. Her voice is sweet. Too sweet. Like poisoned honey. "Is there a problem with the service?"
Mary looks up. She doesn't look scared. She looks amused.
"Oh? The Maid. No problem. Just flirting with the staff. Is that against the rules?"
"Yes," Yerin snaps. "It is. He is working. Do not distract the help."
"He doesn't look distracted," Mary says, looking back at me. "He looks... interested. Right, Jinsu?"
Me: "I am mostly just hungry."
Yerin slams the tray down on the table.
BANG.
The glasses jump. Tea spills slightly.
"He is not interested," Yerin hisses. "He is busy. He has to... clean the spoons. Right now."
She grabs my arm.
"Come with me, Butler."
Mary stands up. She is tall. Almost as tall as Yerin.
The two of them stare each other down.
Blue Eyes (Contacts) vs. Black Eyes (Rage).
Sparks fly.
"Possessive much?" Mary smirks. "Are you his girlfriend?"
The room holds its breath.
Yerin stiffens. Her face goes red, then pale, then red again.
"I am his... his..."
She stammers. Her brain is buffering.
"I am his Supervisor!" she yells. "And I am supervising him away from you!"
Mary laughs. "Supervisor? Boring. I'll be his Owner then."
Mary pulls out a pen. She grabs my other hand (the one Yerin isn't holding).
She scribbles a phone number on my white glove.
"Call me, Jinsu. Or I'll come back tomorrow. And the day after."
She blows a kiss.
"Bye, Supervisor. Try not to pop a blood vessel."
Mary grabs her bag and sashays out of the cafe.
The door closes.
The silence lingers for three seconds.
Then the crowd erupts.
"CATFIGHT!"
"Did you see that tension?!"
"Yerin totally blocked her!"
"Supervisor-zoned!"
Yerin is still holding my arm. Her grip is tight.
She is breathing hard.
She looks at the phone number on my glove.
She looks like she wants to burn the glove.
"Yerin?" I whisper. "My circulation..."
She drops my arm.
She turns to me. Her eyes are watery. Angry? Sad?
"Don't call her," she snaps.
"I won't. I don't even like talking on the phone."
"I mean it, Jinsu! She's... she's dangerous! She's from the West! They eat people like you alive!"
Me: "I think that's a stereotype."
"Just... go clean the spoons!" she yells, and stomps away to the kitchen.
I stand there, looking at my glove.
010-XXXX-XXXX (Mary <3)
I look at Yerin's retreating back.
I look at the crowd, who are all filming me.
Me: "Chat, I think I'm the protagonist of a harem anime, but I missed the episode where they explained the rules."
I escape to the back kitchen.
It's quiet here.
Yerin is at the sink. She is scrubbing a plate. Aggressively.
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.
I walk up beside her.
I take off my glasses. I take off the glove with the number and put it in my pocket.
"Yerin."
She doesn't look at me.
"What? Go away. I'm busy."
"You broke a plate earlier," I say.
"So?"
"And you spilled tea."
"So?!" She turns to me, soapsuds flying. "Are you here to fire me? Go ahead! Fire me, Mr. Head Butler!"
"No," I say. I lean against the counter. "I'm here to say thanks."
She pauses. "Thanks?"
"For saving me," I say. "That girl... she was intense. I didn't know what to do. You stepped in."
Yerin looks down at the suds.
"I didn't do it for you," she mutters. "I did it because... she was annoying. And she broke the rules."
"Right. The rules."
I reach into the fridge. I pull out a carton of Strawberry Milk.
I poke the straw in (correctly this time).
I hand it to her.
"Here," I say. "Peace offering."
She looks at the milk.
She wipes her hands on her apron.
She takes it.
She takes a sip. Her shoulders relax. The anger drains out of her, replaced by that familiar, awkward silence.
"She's pretty," Yerin whispers suddenly.
"Who? Mary?"
"Yeah. She's... confident. And she has that foreign style. Guys like that."
She looks up at me. Her eyes are vulnerable.
"Do you like that?"
[Critical Decision Point.]
[Option A: "Yes, she's hot." (Death)]
[Option B: "I don't care." (Neutral)]
[Option C: "I prefer someone who steals my hoodies." (Rizz)]
My brain panics. I choose Option C, but my mouth filters it.
"She's too loud," I say honestly. "I like... quiet. And... I prefer black hair."
Yerin freezes.
She touches her hair. Her black bob cut.
Her face goes supernova red.
She chokes on the milk.
Cough. Cough.
"You... you idiot!" she stammers. "Don't say things like that!"
"I'm just stating facts!"
"Go away!" She pushes me. "Go back to work! Master!"
She pushes me out of the kitchen.
But as the door closes, I see her.
She's smiling.
She's hugging the strawberry milk carton, and she's smiling like an idiot.
I walk back into the cafe.
Hana is there.
"Good work, Jinsu. Mary's appearance caused a spike in drama. Customers are staying longer to see if she comes back. We are up 50% in revenue."
Me: "Hana, I hate capitalism."
"No, you don't. I bought you that Elden Ring figure you wanted."
Me: "I love capitalism."
[To Be Continued...]
Author's Note:
What's up, Chat! Chapter 6 is done!
We have a New Challenger! Mary is here to shake things up. She's the "Attack Type" to Yerin's "Defense Type."
Also, Jinsu dropping the "I prefer black hair" line? Accidental Rizz God strikes again.
Do you think Mary will come back? (Spoiler: She definitely will. She has no shame).
Poll of the Day:
Who wore the outfit better?
1. Butler Jinsu (Depressed Sebastian)
2. Maid Yerin (Violent Rem)
3. Butler Ryu (Swole Alfred)
Vote below! 👇
Next Episode Preview:
"The Festival Finale! The Fireworks display. Tradition says if you watch the fireworks with someone, you'll be together forever. Jinsu just wants to watch them from the roof alone. But why are there three girls climbing the fire escape?!"
Drop a Power Stone if you want Jinsu to survive the Fireworks! 🎆🎇💀