I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

After leaving the coin laundry, Sasha boldly took the lead and followed a maid who was advertising on the main street, eventually arriving at a maid café near Chuo-dori, covering about 60 pyeong in floor space.
The entrance was decorated in a cutesy style, and as we stepped inside, we were greeted by staff in maid outfits—just like the ones I'd only ever seen on TV or in pictures—smiling brightly at us.

“Welcome home, Master!”
“Oh. That’s the line I wanted to hear.”
“……”

It had been over two years since I possessed this body, but this was my first time visiting a maid café.
Even digging into Kim Yu-seong’s memories from before possession, it was the same.
Back then, during a period when he was highly self-conscious, it seemed middle schooler Kim hadn’t had the guts to enter a maid café alone, especially with his small frame.

Even if he had visited Akihabara, he probably only stared from afar, stealing glances.
Actually, that was true for me as well.
Something about unfamiliar cultures instinctively repelled me.

If Sasha hadn’t insisted, I probably never would’ve set foot in one in my entire life.
As we stood near the entrance awkwardly, unsure what to do, one of the maids who’d been tidying up a recently vacated table approached and kindly asked me,
“Master, have you ever been to our main branch before?”

The unique, surreal atmosphere of the maid café made me nervous, and I answered with an involuntary, tense voice.
“N-no.”
“Then before we serve you, I’ll give a quick explanation. Our Machi Asobi☆Maid Akihabara Main Branch has a base entry fee of 800 yen. When you place your order, one maid will be assigned to personally attend to your table. Maids can be assigned either randomly or by selection, and selection comes with an additional fee. Please note: touching the maids is strictly prohibited in the main branch, and taking photos inside is also not allowed. If you’d like a Polaroid with your maid, please request it at the counter.”

The way she delivered her lines like rapid-fire, without slurring a single syllable, clearly showed she’d done this more than a few times.
After finishing her explanation, the black-haired maid guided us to a sunlit window seat.
“Here is today’s selection list, and here’s the menu. Once you’ve made your choice, please ring the bell on the side of the table to call your maid. We hope you enjoy your time, Master.”

Truly professional.
Despite the fluttery mini-skirted maid uniform, her flawless explanation and demeanor were the very image of professional integrity.
As I quietly admired her in my mind, Sasha leaned her chin on one hand and curiously skimmed through the day’s maid selection list.
Inside the thin file folder were profile photos of the maids currently working at the café.

“I can pick whichever one I want, right?”
Since she was the one paying for this little experience, I told her to do as she pleased.
Then I opened the menu, intending to order something.

“…Expensive.”
The words slipped out the moment I saw the prices on the first page.
The food itself was standard stuff—things like omurice and pancakes that you could find anywhere—but the prices were absurdly high.

Even if you factored in the service, charging 1500 yen for omurice? Was it made with golden eggs?
As the son of a restaurant owner, I couldn’t accept that. But having come all this way, it felt awkward not to order anything at all, so I asked for an omurice and an orange juice.
Just those two totaled 2000 yen.

That was nearly half my weekly allowance.
Including the basic entry fee, it definitely wasn’t cheap.
If I’d paid for it myself, I probably would’ve suffocated from the stress.

“I’ve picked mine. What are you getting?”
“Whatever’s fine.”
“…Then I’ll get the same.”

Compared to me, Sasha—who had casually slapped down a wad of hundred-thousand-yen bills for the job—clearly didn’t care about this level of expense.
She kept scanning the maid list, then gracefully reached out and rang the bell on the table.
The way she moved was like a painting—pure elegance. It made it obvious ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) she came from a distinguished family.

Every little gesture carried a sense of class.
In a different way from a corporate chaebol heiress—it felt refined, almost aristocratic.
“Yes~ You called, Master?”

The black-haired maid from earlier approached again and asked sweetly. Sasha pointed at one of the photos on the selection list and said,
“Please call over the cat maid, Hyoneko-san.”
“Yes~ Understood~”

Cat maid?
I thought I misheard, but the black-haired maid nodded without question and took the selection list from Sasha’s hand.
“And has Master here decided on your food or drinks?”

“…Ah, two omurice and two orange juices, please.”
“Yes~ Understood~”
Smiling from start to finish, the black-haired maid took our order and briskly walked off toward the kitchen.

Only after she disappeared did I finally let out a breath and slump back into my chair.
All I’d done was place an order, yet I already felt exhausted.
Just an hour ago, I’d been brawling in the street with burly Russian thugs, and now here I was, nervously sitting in a maid café I’d never even dreamed of visiting.

If anyone heard this story, they’d say I was making it up.
After placing our orders, Sasha glanced around the café curiously, then suddenly turned to me—who’d been staring blankly at the ceiling—and asked,
“Is this your first maid café?”

“Yeah.”
“That’s surprising. I thought Japanese people came to these places all the time.”
“No, that’s a stereotype. Normal people don’t usually come to maid cafés… probably.”

I said that while glancing around.
Surprisingly, it looked like office workers and even groups of women came here too.
After a short wait, the maid Sasha had selected approached us, carrying a tray with two glasses of orange juice.

When Sasha spotted her, she smiled faintly and elegantly crossed her long legs like a model.
“Hello, Master! Thank you for choosing me today, nya~! I’m Hyoneko-nya, the famous cat maid of Machi Asobi☆Maid!”
Wearing a headband with cat ears and sporting short brown hair, she smiled brightly as she spoke.

“……”
Time and space cringed inward.
I thought I was relatively used to otaku culture, but this was too advanced for me.

It felt like I was doing middle school math, and someone just threw a college-level exam in my face.
I found myself gripping my thigh unconsciously, resisting the urge to flee, when Sasha calmly tilted her head and asked,
“What can we ask our selected maid to do?”

With exaggerated gestures, Hyoneko waved her hands and explained,
“First, when your food arrives, I can draw a picture on it, nya! Or I can play a board game with you, nya! And lastly, though it’s a bit pricey, if you request a song, I can sing live on stage, nya!”
“You sing?”

Sasha, who had been resting her chin on her hand with a bored expression, lit up at the last part.
She reached into the handbag beside her chair, pulled out a wad of blue banknotes, and placed them on the table.
“How much would it cost to make you sing for 30 minutes?”

“I-I’ll go ask the counter, so please wait a moment! I mean—wait a bit, nya!”
Apparently surprised by the sudden cash slam, Hyoneko momentarily forgot her character voice.
She scrambled off to speak with the café manager, and Sasha sipped her orange juice, flashing a sly smile.

“Now this is getting fun.”
Are you a demon?
***

And so began Hyoneko’s impromptu cat maid live performance.
An anime song I vaguely recognized began playing throughout the café.
Sasha, apparently familiar with it, hummed along under her breath.

Since Hyoneko was onstage singing, the black-haired maid from earlier brought out our omurice instead.
“Here’s your omurice, Master.”
“Oh.”

For a dish I’d called overpriced at 1500 yen, it turned out to be surprisingly legit.
The portion looked generous even for an adult man—probably enough without needing to order more.
“Then I’ll cut it for you, okay?”

After getting our consent, the professional maid sliced open the omelet on top of the rice with a knife.
Swish— As the egg split cleanly, it draped itself gently over the rice like a soft waterfall.
Then, picking up a ketchup bottle, she drew a cute cat illustration atop the omelet.

“Thank you.”
I picked up my spoon to take a bite—
“Ah, one moment, Master. We’re not done yet.”

The black-haired maid stopped me and then formed a heart shape with her hands.
Please no.
“Make it tasty~ Make it tasty~ Moe moe kyun♥”

“……”
I instinctively froze, unable to mask the look of existential panic spreading across my face.