Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

In the days that followed, Hestia began assisting various maids in the café. Belphegor seemed intent on having her interact with different coworkers, helping her become familiar with everyone in the establishment.

As time went on, Hestia discovered that the café was home to many hidden talents. Quite a few of the maids possessed extraordinary skills. Some were so exceptional that even the manager couldn’t easily command them and had to persuade them with kind words instead.

Before she knew it, another afternoon had arrived.

“Hestia, this is your seventh day working here, isn’t it?”

A green-haired maid spoke while feeding a snake coiled in her arms, directing the question toward the gray-haired girl.

“Yes, the manager said she would let me know after my shift today whether I’ve passed the probation period.”

“You’ll definitely pass,” said Botis, placing the black-and-white striped snake down before picking up another smaller green snake wrapped around her waist.

“Thank you.”

At the time, Hestia was sitting on a stone beside a small pond, feeding a large spider on the table in front of her.

Decay Sequence 4: Ghostface Wolf Spider (Rating: Exceptional Gold Grade)

This large spider was the most powerful transcendent creature in Botis’ glass jungle. It was rated as an exceptional gold-grade being, part of a scale used to measure the comprehensive strength of extraordinary individuals. From lowest to highest, the rankings were Gray Iron, Red Copper, Dark Silver, Radiant Gold, Condensed Pearl, Prismatic Crystal, Apostle, Fate Key, and Epic.

Epic-grade beings were often described in myths and legends, classified as Sequence 9. None existed in the present day. The highest attainable rank now was the Fate Key, symbolizing the ultimate unlocking of one’s destiny. This meant fully realizing one’s talents, willpower, and essence, distilled to perfection.

The spider’s hairy legs were slightly prickly to the touch. Hestia shook a small bell first to calm the creature down, allowing the barbs on its body to soften. Only then did she dare to feed it small pieces of food.

The spider’s pincer-like fangs crushed the small blue cubes before swallowing them. Once it finished eating, the multiple pairs of black eyes on its head turned back toward Hestia.

“Eat slower; you’re spilling everywhere.”

Hestia brushed the crumbs underneath the spider onto a sheet of paper. After some thought, she decided to pick up the large spider carefully and place it directly on the paper to feed it. This way, the mess wouldn’t scatter everywhere.

Watching Hestia handle the dangerous spider so skillfully and naturally, Botis was tempted to intervene but held back in the end.

Unknowingly, this child had grown unafraid of venomous snakes and spiders. She even dared to discipline the more unruly ones, just like Botis herself.

Was this the growth of someone truly gifted? Botis wondered silently.

Finally, the end of the workday arrived.

Hestia headed to a quiet corner of the Crystal Dream café, where the manager sat sipping tea, just as she always did.

“Hestia, you’re here. I trust you’re getting used to things by now?”

“Yes.” The girl bowed respectfully.

“Excellent. You truly are someone I personally selected.” The manager looked pleased, like a proud creature strutting along a village path.

“You’ll officially start work tomorrow.”

“But before that, there are a few things I must teach you,” she said, her expression growing uncharacteristically serious.

“First, customers are not gods. We can’t unconditionally and endlessly meet their demands. Doing so would only ruin the rules and make it impossible to sustain our business.

“If you feel troubled by a request, don’t hesitate to refuse it, but always do so politely.”

“Second, making mistakes is inevitable in our work. Even the most experienced hands occasionally slip up after thousands of repetitions.”

“When you make a mistake, focus on resolving it and helping the customer. However, unless absolutely necessary, do not apologize!”

“We approach problems as helpers and companions, not adversaries. Apologizing puts you in opposition to the customer, creating a psychological and moral disadvantage. Some unreasonable customers may exploit this to demand more compensation, complicating the situation further.”

“Moreover, apologies are a very serious matter. As employees, you lack the authority to apologize, which may insult certain distinguished customers and greatly harm your own standing.”

“If you find yourself in an unsolvable situation, contact me or a trusted senior colleague for assistance, and leave the customer’s sight as quickly as possible.”

“Having someone else handle the matter will often make things smoother. I can offer various explanations or compensations to settle things, which is generally much easier to manage.”

“As for when the person who made the mistake faces the customer directly, neither side can gracefully back down,” she said, taking another sip of tea, her tone softening once more.

“This is the experience I’ve gathered over many years. I hope it will help you.”

“Thank you, Manager,” Hestia said, expressing her gratitude sincerely this time.

“Do your best,” the manager encouraged, standing up and waving to Hestia.

“Life will bring plenty of troubles, but running away will only bring more.” With those words, she leisurely walked away, her silhouette taking on an inexplicably majestic quality under the simulated sunset glow.

…

After changing out of her work clothes, Hestia carried a bag as she stepped into the vertical elevator. Her work for the day was over, and she was heading home. Inside the bag was a maid uniform tailored specifically for her, intricately crafted to fit her measurements.

With a faint sense of anticipation and gratitude in her heart, Hestia made her way home.

However, as she approached the tunnel where the earlier incident had occurred, a stranger—a black-haired young man—appeared before her.

He stood smoking a cigarette, head lowered. Then, raising his head, he slowly stepped away from the wall he had been leaning on and walked to the center of the tunnel’s entrance, blocking Hestia’s path.

“You must be Hestia Thilan, right?” He spat out the cigarette butt, crushing it under his foot with a grinding motion that produced a grating sound, leaving faint scratches on the steel floor.

Hestia took a step back, her gaze fixed on the black-haired young man. The magic within her began to circulate rapidly, spreading outwards to heighten her senses.

Dragon Sequence 4: Unknown (Rating: Rare Radiant Gold Grade)

In Hestia’s enhanced perception, the Dragon Sequence magic emanating from the young man’s body felt almost tangible, like tendrils threatening to ignite the very air, exuding an oppressive heat and suffocation.

“I am Hestia Thilan,” she replied, striving to remain calm while quickly devising a plan to address the situation.

You cannot run, Hestia. Running away is not an option. Someone dear to her had once said those words, though she had never been able to follow them. Only after experiencing life and death had she gained a measure of resolve and courage.

“Oh, you’re quite honest, admitting it just like that.”

The black-haired man raised his head, his dark bangs parting to reveal piercing golden eyes. The oppressive aura they projected filled the confined space with fear.

Hestia’s bag slipped from her hand, its pristine white exterior slowly soaking in the dirty, gray-black water on the ground.

Without hesitation, she turned and sprinted, her familiar surroundings of stairwells and corners blurring in her vision. She quickly mapped out the nearest Riot Control Unit station in her mind.

The nearest one was on the northern side of the next level, beside a small convenience store and an unmanned police kiosk where the Riot Control Units were stationed.

But her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust of wind—a punch aimed at her back.

She was flung into the air like a ragdoll, colliding with the stairwell wall. Her body screamed in pain, as if falling apart.

Amid the searing pain, Hestia slid down the wall and rolled twice on the ground before coming to a stop. Her body was covered in scrapes and bruises.

“That’s all?”

The black-haired man casually stuffed his hands into his pockets and approached, looking down at the girl writhing in pain on the floor.

“So fragile,” he remarked. Then, with another swift kick, Hestia was sent flying again, tracing a long arc in the air before crashing onto the steel ground. She tumbled seven or eight times before stopping.

Her arms and wrists were riddled with cuts and blood, and the skin on her knees was scraped raw, exposing dark red flesh. Blood trickled down her thighs, soaking her legs.

“How boring.”

The black-haired man approached once more, stepping on Hestia’s left hand. Her agonized screams filled the air, mingled with the sound of cracking bones.

After more than ten seconds, he lifted his foot and looked at the girl trembling and sweating on the ground, disdain and irritation flashing in his golden eyes.

Such a pitiful creature. How could his master have been defeated by someone like this…?

He pulled out a personal terminal from his belt and turned his back to her, walking over to the steel railing to make an emergency call, intending to have someone come and remove the girl.

Behind him, sobbing and whimpering sounds continued.

Hestia, clutching her bleeding forehead with one hand, struggled to stand. The pain in her knees and body made her legs tremble, and she was on the verge of collapsing. Her vision, blurred by tears and blood, could only make out the outline of the man’s back.

“You can’t escape anymore, Hestia. You have no family left, no safe harbor to run to, and no one who will wholeheartedly love and comfort you ever again…”

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground again, her palms scraping against the rough surface, leaving faint marks like fine sand. Tiny grains and shards of iron embedded themselves into her flesh, blurring her once fair skin with streaks of blood and dirt.

At the sound of her fall, the black-haired youth turned his head, watching the girl struggle to rise.

Hestia tightened her fingers against the cold ground, forcing her trembling body to stand again. Her gray hair, now completely blackened by dust and blood, framed a face marred by grime and wounds. As she raised her head, her azure eyes burned with defiance.

“Interesting,” the black-haired youth remarked, lowering his phone and striding toward her before throwing a punch.

Golden dragon scales shimmered on his muscular arm, and the air around his strike seemed to solidify under the force. As the punch hurtled toward her, Hestia’s azure eyes flickered with a mysterious sigil.

In an instant, the fiery onslaught cooled, and his rigid arm veered off course. His punch smashed into the wall behind Hestia, creating a massive crater. The impact echoed through the stairwell with a deafening roar.

But the searing Dragon Sequence magic surged again, burning away the cold stiffness in his arm. The black-haired youth recovered swiftly.

By then, Hestia had fled several hundred meters, her body beginning a rapid self-repair that allowed her to regain some mobility, though she remained battered and fragile.

“You won’t get away, you naive fool.”

The black-haired youth growled and charged after her. His golden eyes no longer held disdain or irritation but a glimmer of excitement. His aura burned brighter and fiercer as he finally got serious.

…

In the minute that followed, they raced through the stairwell, the distance between them shrinking rapidly. Hestia’s footsteps pounded up the stairs, carrying her to an elevator shaft. There was no time to use the elevator as usual—her pursuer wouldn’t allow her that luxury. She had to rely on the ancient infrastructure to ascend.

The last time she had come here, she was just a little girl.

The elevator shaft was unlit, with layers of dust and rust covering the floor. Thankfully, there was little debris, allowing Hestia to move quickly.

With her extraordinary talents activated, she didn’t need her eyes to navigate in the dark. This gave her an edge over the black-haired youth, whose speed otherwise far outmatched hers.

Ascending several dozen meters, she heard another sound from the shaft below—the black-haired youth had entered. Hestia quickened her pace.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, dulling the pain from her injuries, but she knew this heightened state wouldn’t last long.

Faster… just a little faster. Her hands gripped the rough, peeling railings as she focused entirely on climbing. Gradually, the sounds of her pursuer faded into the distance.

For a moment, she thought she might have a chance, a slim hope of escape.

But then, a deafening sound echoed in the shaft. A dark figure leaped through the open space, grabbing the railing and flipping into the narrow passage.

“You can’t escape.”

In the darkness, his golden dragon eyes glowed ominously, like those of death itself.

Hestia stepped back slowly, the mysterious sigil flickering in her azure eyes once more.

“That trick again?”

The black-haired youth lunged. He kicked off the wall, vanishing from her line of sight before slamming down with a crushing kick. The impact broke the weakened railing, sending Hestia hurtling into the void.

Without the railing’s protection, the girl plunged into the black abyss below, her figure swallowed by the darkness in an instant.

Standing at the edge of the shaft, the black-haired youth paused, regretting his haste.

“Don’t die so easily…”

Then, he jumped in after her.

…

Ice-cold water engulfed Hestia’s body, shocking her back to consciousness. In the pitch-black depths, she felt herself sinking, deeper and deeper into the stagnant pool.

All light and sound faded. Her limbs convulsed and went numb as despair gripped her, pulling her further down.

Water flooded her lungs, the searing pain forcing her into a desperate struggle. But she couldn’t scream—her ears were filled with the muffled roar of the murky current.

Hestia couldn’t swim, not in such a state. A bone-chilling cold spread from her heart to her limbs as death approached.

Pain, fear, and futile struggle blurred her consciousness. Her flailing limbs found nothing to cling to, only the icy, suffocating water.

Her chest burned with the urge to cough, but there was no relief, no salvation.

Finally, her struggles weakened. Her rigid body slackened, and she began to sink further into the abyss.

Her blue eyes stared blankly at the impenetrable darkness above, their light dimming…

It’s over, Hestia.

The darkness consumed everything, leaving her sightless, her ears filled only with the sound of the icy water.

Facing death, she felt an eerie calm. Hope and prayer had long deserted her.

So this is what life amounts to…

Slowly, she closed her eyes. The faint blue light that had flickered in the dark faded away, vanishing entirely.

…

I don’t know what feeling Themisia had when she stepped into the dark night, if it hadn’t been so full of pain and regret.

I’m so envious of my sister. She’s always so fearless.

If I survive, I want to be like her—to stop running away, to stop lying to myself, and to face everything with honesty.