Ch. 115 - VIP Service from My Roommate
Is It Weird for a Guy to Apply to a Witch School?This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Notes
Translator's note: Yuehan's been mean again. Someone please give her a lesson.
This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Translator's note: Yuehan's been mean again. Someone please give her a lesson.
"Hi... um..."
"Um, what?" I leaned my chin on my hand, giving Dongli Yiren my most expectant look. "Shouldn’t you be calling me 'Master'?"
"Ma—Master... here is your order." Yiren looked like she was about to snap. Of all the people to walk in on her last day, it had to be me.
If she hadn't been so greedy for that final shift’s paycheck, maybe her secret would have stayed safe forever.
Despite her internal meltdown, she stayed in character, carefully placing the tray on my table with the practiced grace of a professional maid.
"Would you like some latte art, Master?" she asked, holding a small pitcher of steamed milk.
"You know how to do that, too?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed.
"I... I just learned."
"I'm jealous. Look at you, picking up a trade. I can’t do that to save my life. Go ahead, show me what you’ve got."
Watching Yiren look like she wanted to bolt for the nearest exit was the highlight of my week. But she was stuck. She had no choice but to stand there and perform.
I’m no barista, but I’ve seen enough TikToks to know how it’s supposed to look. Yiren’s movements were stiff and mechanical. By the time she finished, the 'art' was a bit lopsided, but you could tell what she was going for.
"By the way," I said suddenly, "I never caught your name. Mind telling me?"
Yiren looked up, giving me a look that suggested she thought I’d finally lost my mind.
"What? Is it a secret?" I met her gaze, enjoying the show.
"No... It’s Dongli Yiren," she mumbled.
"What a coincidence!" My grin widened. "I actually have a roommate named Dongli Yiren."
I watched her closely, wondering how she’d play it. Would she drop the act, or keep this ridiculous charade going?
I glanced around the cafe. Other maids were leaning in close to their customers, laughing, playing games, or performing little dances. Compared to them, Yiren stood out like a sore thumb.
"Oh... r-really? Wow, what are the odds... haha..." Her voice was brittle. We both knew exactly what was happening, but she was clinging to this paper-thin lie for dear life.
"Right? I thought the same thing," I said, my voice dripping with playfulness. "This is actually my first time here—just a whim, really. So, how does this work? How do you usually... 'interact' with your guests?"
"Well, usually we serve the courses. There’s more coming, by the way, and then I can stay and play some tabletop games. Most of the time, we just fulfill any reasonable requests the guest has..."
"Eh, sounds a bit boring," I said, cutting her off. I'd heard the same pitch from the girl at the front desk. "Tell me about the tips. If I pay extra, how far does that 'service' go?"
"I... what?" Yiren froze, looking totally lost.
"I mean, for example," I leaned in, a mischievous glint in my eye, "how much would it cost to have you sit on my lap?"
I was bluffing, of course. The last thing I actually wanted was my roommate flushing and squirming in my lap—the sheer awkwardness of that would probably kill us both.
"What?! No! Absolutely not! I can't do that!" Yiren recoiled, looking as scandalized as if I’d actually tried to grab her.
"Relax, I'm kidding," I said, waving a hand to calm her down. "Just follow the standard routine. I actually have some work to catch up on, so just stay here and keep me company quietly."
I wasn't lying about being busy. My phone was blowing up; the class group chat was buzzing with people asking about the cafe, and I had a lot of messages to get through.
The class group chat was a dumpster fire. Ever since they’d entered Witch School, reality had started to sink in. They were cut off—no outside contact, no leaving campus. For the students who hadn't taken the orientation seriously, this was a total bombshell.
My notifications were flooded with the same frantic questions: How do I call my parents? Can we leave for the weekend?
I’d already explained everything clearly and even pinned it as a group announcement, but people were still spiraling.
Honestly, it was just pure anxiety talking. I decided to ignore them; humans are adaptable, and they’d settle in after a few days of campus life.
"So," I said, looking up from my phone while Yiren hovered nearby. "I heard classes are starting soon. Does that mean you’re ending your gig here?"
"Yes..." she murmured.
"Are you really that short on cash?"
"...A little."
"You know, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, but the timing never felt right." I lowered my voice, leaning in. "Male students at Witch School get a subsidy. A big one. It’s more than enough to live comfortably, even if you’re flat broke."
"Wait... What?!" Yiren’s eyes went wide, like I’d just told her she’d been working for Monopoly money.
If she’d known this sooner, she wouldn't have spent her entire break grinding at a part-time job.
The cafe opened at the crack of dawn, and since there were rarely customers early on, she’d show up first thing just to clock the hours.
She hated the job—the shame of putting on that frilly uniform and serving people was a lot to swallow, but the pay was just too good to pass up.
Between the high hourly rate and the occasional tip, she’d decided the sacrifice was worth it.
But a subsidy?
She looked like she was about to have a physical reaction to the news. Every early morning and every "Master" she’d been forced to say felt like a cruel joke.
She stared at me with pouting, resentful eyes, silently screaming: Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!
She actually looked like she was a second away from bursting into tears.
"Hey, don't look at me like that," I said, holding up my hands. "I only just heard some upperclassmen talking about it recently. I wanted to tell you, but we barely saw each other. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun at work, I didn't want to ruin your vibe."
"I—you—!" Yiren was vibrating with indignation, but she couldn't find the words. Finally, she snapped, "That’s it! I’m quitting! I’m done after this shift!"
"Whoa, hold on. If you quit now, what are you going to do later?" I offered with a mock-sympathetic tone. "The subsidy is a one-time thing; the school isn't going to keep you on welfare forever. Besides... do you even know how to apply for it? Do you know where the office is?"
She paused, her shoulders sagging. "I... no. Where is it?" She looked at me, her gaze shifting from anger to a desperate plea for help.
"Heh. Well, information comes at a price." I pulled out my phone and wagged it back and forth. "Since you’re already dressed for the part... You won't mind if I take a few photos, right?"
"Fine... whatever..." Yiren’s face was a mask of defeat, but she didn't fight me. "Do what you want. I have to sign physical polaroids for customers anyway... just promise these won't leave your phone!"
"Relax," I smirked, framing the shot. "These are just for my private collection. I’m not sharing."