The weekend in front of Kamakura Station was wrapped in a peaceful, bustling energy. A sea of colorful parasols stretched from the entrance of Komachi Street. Carried on the breeze were the sweet scents of boba tea and matcha pudding, mingling with the savory aroma of freshly roasted soy sauce senbei crackers. Everyone was smiling, fully enjoying a holiday in the ancient capital.

  As if completely rejected by this happy scenery, I stood frozen in the shadow of a station pilr. My name is Shigure Oba, 17 years old. My eyes weren't glued to the delicious street food the tourists were holding, but to the cracked screen of my smartphone.

  "Account bance: three digits... You've got to be kidding me."

  The numbers on the banking app presented a ruthless reality. My deep sigh was completely drowned out by the noise of the crowd.

  I currently live alone. Half a year ago, when I started high school, I moved into my paternal grandparents' old, vacant house. My reasons were typical for a teenager—"I want my own room"—coupled with a desperate need to escape my noisy, rge family. The estate, where my ancestors supposedly once lived, is pointlessly huge and incredibly old. To earn living expenses, I had been working part-time at an Akihabara-style maid cafe, but... three days ago, the manager skipped town in the middle of the night, and the cafe suddenly went under.

  "Next week, they're deducting the installment fee for the school trip..."

  At this rate, I won't be able to eat, let alone go on the trip. Driven by impatience, I scrolled through a sketchy job board for high-paying gigs. Cam girl, Clinical trials, Courier... The screen was lined with dangerous keywords that made my scrolling finger hesitate.

  "I guess there really aren't any normal jobs left, huh..."

  Just as I was about to give up and close the app, a bizarre job ad caught my eye.

  [URGENT] Maid Assistant Wanted at a Western-style Mansion in Kamakura Location: The deepest part of the Asahina Pass, Kamakura City Duties: Cleaning the mansion, serving as a conversation partner for the mistress, and other miscelneous tasks. (Maid uniform provided) Sary: 50,000 yen per day (Same-day payment avaible. Meals included.) Requirements: Healthy female between 16 and 20 years old. Must be able to keep a secret.

  "...50k yen a day!? Did they add an extra zero by mistake?"

  My voice slipped out. 50,000 yen just for cleaning and chatting? The conditions were way too good. Normally, anyone would be suspicious of an ulterior motive. A new type of scam, or perhaps something far more terrifying.

  But my empty stomach and the looming mountain of bills had completely paralyzed my normal judgment.

  "...No, wait, it's Kamakura. It might just be the eccentric hobby of some wealthy person completely out of touch with society. If I can get 50k just for cleaning and talking... I have to do it!"

  With a trembling finger, I tapped the "Apply" button. Little did I know, I had just sealed my own fate.

  The reply came immediately. The designated location was in the hills, far removed from the tourist-packed areas. Relying on my map app, I pressed forward, but the path grew narrower and darker with every step.

  "...Is this really the right way?"

  A narrow road carved right through the mountain appeared before me—a kiridoshi pass. The exposed rock faces on both sides were covered in moss, and the seeping water made the air cling heavily to my skin. Due to the dense canopy of trees blocking out the sky, it was incredibly dim despite being broad daylight. Walking through that tunnel-like path gave me the distinct illusion of being severed from the modern world.

  "Something's... different about the air here. It's like time has stopped."

  Feeling a cold chill run down my spine, I forced my legs to keep moving. Just past the mountain pass, in a clearing in the woods, the mansion sat in eerie silence.

  It was completely detached from the surrounding ndscape. A massive, stone-built Western mansion that looked like it belonged in the Meiji or Taisho era. The exterior walls, tangled with ivy like dark veins, were a dull, bckened color, and every single window was sealed shut with thick bckout curtains. It didn't look like Kamakura at all; it was like a slice of the foggy outskirts of London had been dropped into Japan.

  "Whoa... It's a literal haunted house..."

  I want to go home. I desperately suppressed my primal instincts with the magical phrase: "50,000 yen a day." I reached out and pressed the rusted intercom next to the giant iron gates.

  "...Yes."

  A low, static-ced woman's voice answered.

  "U-Umm! I'm Oba, I'm here for the part-time job interview!"

  "...Please come in. It is unlocked."

  With a heavy, echoing cnk of metal, the gate untched.

  When I pushed open the massive wooden doors, I stepped into another world.

  The spacious entrance hall featured polished marble floors that gave off a cold gleam. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling. The air was frigid, smelling of old book ink mixed with the faint, sweet scent of incense.

  "Welcome, Miss Oba."

  "Eek!?"

  I let out a tiny shriek as a figure appeared without a single sound. Standing there, perfectly harmonizing with the mansion's gothic atmosphere, was a beautiful woman.

  She was tall, her posture impeccably straight. Her flowing silver hair was tied back neatly, and she wore a cssic, dress-like coat that looked like it belonged in a Sherlock Holmes story. Her skin was as white as porcein, and her gss-like purple eyes held absolutely zero emotion.

  "A-Ah, um... I'm Shigure Oba. Nice to meet you."

  "I am the dies' maid, Anastasia. The Head Maid is absent today, so I shall be your guide."

  The woman, identifying herself as Anastasia, offered a polite bow. But her voice was as cold as ice. Without giving me a second gnce, she began walking down the corridor with the precise, measured steps of a soldier.

  "The Master is waiting."

  Panicking, I hurried after her cold back.

  I was led into a salon lined with luxurious antique furniture. Even though it was daytime, thick curtains were drawn tight, making the room as dark as night. The only light source was the flickering fmes in the firepce.

  In the center of the room, on a vish chaise longue with cwed feet, a small figure was reclining.

  "...You're te, Nastya."

  A nguid voice echoed. The owner of the voice was a young girl who, no matter how you looked at her, seemed my age or perhaps even younger. She had gorgeous golden curls that almost seemed to glow in the dark, and eyes as red as blood. Sprawling the hem of her crimson dress messily over the couch, she zily swirled a red liquid in a gss.

  "My deepest apologies, Lady Sofia. This is the applicant, Miss Shigure Oba."

  "Hmm...?"

  The girl called "Sofia" slowly sat up and fixed her gaze on me. That gaze... it wasn't the way a human looks at another human. It was an assessing look, possessing the cruel innocence of a child eyeing a brand-new toy.

  (Is this kid... the master? Wait, is she a foreigner too?)

  Overwhelmed by the sheer difference in our "status," I stood completely frozen.

  "You. What's your name?"

  "Eh? Ah, Shigure Oba."

  "Oba? ...Hmph, a nostalgic ring to it. I believe I've heard that name before."

  Sofia nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied. I had no idea what she was talking about. Was it just a common surname around these parts?

  "Whatever. Your face is pin, but your vibe isn't bad. The fact that you made it here means you have what it takes. ...Besides."

  Lady Sofia's nose twitched.

  "You smell incredibly sweet."

  "H-Huh...? (Smell!? Did she find out I skipped my bath yesterday!?)"

  As I frantically sniffed my own sleeve, Sofia pced her gss on the side table and disinterestedly unrolled an old scroll. It was covered in archaic letters I'd never seen before.

  "Even so, this country's history books are full of mistakes. ...Hey, Shigure. Do you know of the 'Treasure of Buei'?"

  "T-The Treasure of Buei? ...Um, is that the newest Lupin the Third movie?"

  "Pfft... Ahahahaha! Lupin? Right, in a way, I suppose it is."

  Suddenly, Lady Sofia clutched her stomach and burst into ughter. The depth and intimidation in that ugh were completely unimaginable coming from such a delicate girl. Completely bewildered, I looked to Anastasia for help, but she remained standing at attention, her face as expressionless as a Noh mask.

  "I like you. Your ignorance is adorable. I'll hire you."

  "Wait, really!? Thank you so much!"

  I breathed a sigh of relief at how easily I was hired. Now I can go on the school trip, and my electricity won't get shut off!

  "Nastya, the contract. ...Also, I'm a bit thirsty. Prepare some tea."

  What Anastasia presented to me was a thick, parchment-like piece of paper. It wasn't written in English, but rather tightly packed with letters that looked like some ancient European nguage. I couldn't read a single word.

  "This is a foreign-style contract. Please sign it."

  I took the pen as instructed. There was no space for an address or phone number—just a single bnk line at the very bottom for a name. I wrote Shigure Oba.

  "Done."

  "...Now then."

  Anastasia didn't take the contract. Instead, she offered me a small silver knife. The bde gleamed dully.

  "Please pce your blood next to your name."

  "Eh?"

  My brain stopped working.

  "You mean, cut my finger? U-Umm, I'd rather not... It'll hurt, and what if I get an infection...?"

  "If you do not do this, you cannot work here."

  Anastasia's voice was ft, but it carried an undeniable tone of finality. I stared at the knife. (50k a day... 50,000 yen...) Beggars can't be choosers. I hate pain, but if it's just a quick prick...

  With trembling hands, I took the knife and pressed it against my left index finger. But the moment the bde touched my skin, my primal fear kicked in, and my hand froze.

  "Ugh... I don't think I can do it..."

  "...I suppose it cannot be helped."

  With a sigh, the knife was smoothly plucked from my hands. The next second—

  "Eh?"

  Anastasia grabbed my left hand firmly and pulled my index finger—right into her own mouth.

  "Ow...!"

  A sharp pain shot through me. It wasn't a knife. It was teeth. The sensation of fangs piercing the pad of my finger. Startled, I tried to pull my hand back, but Anastasia's grip was like a vice; it wouldn't budge an inch.

  Nn... slurp...

  A wet tongue traced the wound. After the sharp pain, a strange heat blossomed. It wasn't just my blood being drawn. It felt as if something precious deep inside my body was being completely sucked out, bringing with it an overwhelming lethargy... and a deeply immoral rush of pleasure.

  Anastasia's purple eyes glowed bewitchingly at point-bnk range.

  "...Sweet."

  With an expression of pure ecstasy, Anastasia sucked on my finger deeply and relentlessly. Her cold, calcuting mask had completely peeled away, exposing an uncontrolble thirst.

  "Ah... nh..."

  The strength left my knees. After an intense, intimate moment that felt like it could have been seconds or minutes, Anastasia finally, reluctantly, pulled her lips away. A thick, silver thread of saliva trailed between my fingertip and her lips.

  "My, my, Nastya."

  Sofia called out from the chaise longue, sounding thoroughly amused.

  "Helping yourself to a taste right in front of your master? You've got some nerve."

  "Kh! ...N-No, that is not what..."

  Snapping back to reality, Anastasia suddenly let go of my hand. Her cheeks were faintly dyed red, and her breathing was ragged. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and hastily corrected her posture.

  "...Please forgive my rudeness. I was merely... disinfecting the wound."

  It was a painful excuse. Red blood was still welling up from my fingertip.

  "...Quickly, while it is still bleeding. Here."

  Prompted by Anastasia, I pressed my trembling finger against the signature line of the contract. Bright red seeped into the white paper. That became the inescapable proof of our pact.

  "...The contract is now complete."

  Anastasia carefully retrieved the document and turned to face me once more.

  "Let us start over. ...From now on, you are also a maid of this mansion. Calling you 'Miss Oba' would be too distant, so I shall call you 'Shigure'."

  "A-Ah, yes... um, then can I call you Anastasia?"

  "Yes. As you wish."

  Anastasia softened her expression for just a fraction of a second before immediately reverting to her iron-like poker face, opening the door.

  "Now, I will show you around the estate. Follow me."

  The two of us left the salon and walked down the long corridor. The back of Anastasia, who was leading the way, was so cold it made her earlier "passion" feel like a lie; she had returned to her perfect posture.

  The windows were completely sealed with thick curtains, keeping the hallway dim even in the middle of the day. Old paintings decorated the walls, but they were all religious works or ndscapes of pces I had never seen.

  "...Um, Anastasia-san?"

  Unable to bear the silence, I timidly spoke up.

  "What exactly does the young dy... Lady Sofia do? Keeping the curtains closed during the day, reading those ancient-looking scrolls..."

  It's not some sketchy bck magic ritual, right? I swallowed the question before it could slip out. Anastasia didn't stop walking and answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

  "The young dy is... an author."

  "Wait, an author?"

  "Yes. It is her profession to draw pictures and write stories. ...If I were to use the Japanese term, I believe it is... a 'Doujin author'."

  "A-A doujin author!?"

  My voice cracked. That haughty girl who looked like a medieval aristocrat? Does she sit there gripping a stylus pen and drawing manga manuscripts?

  "Yes. She is currently staying in this quiet country to write her new work. ...She becomes particurly neurotic before a deadline, so she intensely dislikes sunlight and noise. That is also the reason for her nocturnal lifestyle."

  "Ah... I see, she's a creator. That makes total sense."

  I was strangely convinced. (Maybe 50k a day is totally affordable if she's a popur indie creator. And that bossy attitude is just because she's an eccentric artist...)

  Without looking back, the corners of Anastasia's mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. Confirming that I had swallowed the lie without a doubt, she continued speaking with a perfect poker face.

  "This is the kitchen, and the linen room is in the back. ...Shigure, first, you will need to change into your uniform."

  Anastasia stopped and turned back to me.

  "Our job is to support the young dy's... no, the Sensei's creative endeavors. Do not make any blunders."

  "Y-Yes! I'll do my best!"

  I renewed my resolve. My part-time job life at the "eccentric rich person's mansion" was about to begin.

  (End of Chapter 1)