Back at the Izakaya, Hayashi Shuichi was in the middle of stir-frying a dish.
Suddenly, an intense tickling sensation flared in his armpits, as if a thousand tiny insects were crawling beneath his skin.
Initially, Shuichi assumed it was just the heat of the kitchen causing sweat to irritate him. He tried to subtly rub his arms against his ribs to alleviate the sensation, but instead of fading, the itch grew exponentially worse. It hit him in rhythmic waves, surging through his body like a relentless tide.
What's going on? Why does it itch so much all of a sudden?
Shuichi's brow furrowed, and fine beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. Since the kitchen was open to the dining area, he couldn't exactly start digging at his armpits; if the customers saw that, they'd be out the door in seconds.
Gritting his teeth, he squeezed the handle of his spatula with white-knuckled intensity, forcing himself to finish the dish through sheer willpower.
The moment he plated the last of the food, he muttered an excuse about needing more ingredients and bolted for the storage room in the back.
Once inside, he practically ripped his chef's coat open and scratched frantically at his armpits. But the itch felt as though it were rooted deep within his very soul; no amount of physical scratching provided the slightest relief.
Is this an allergic reaction?
Confused and breathless, Shuichi reached for a mirror to inspect his skin when a sudden, violent wave of vertigo crashed over him. The world began to spin in a sickening kaleidoscope of colors, and the outlines of the storage shelves blurred into a hazy gray.
"Akane... Koizumi...?"
In the final second before his consciousness flickered out, Shuichi thought he heard a girl's startled cry echoing from somewhere far, far away—distant and muffled, as if heard through a thick sheet of frosted glass.
Akane's Mansion.
"This is for messing with my fate! This is for making me come all the way to Tokyo! And this is for making me kiss that... that place!"
Using the voodoo doll as a surrogate for Hayashi Shuichi, Akane Koizumi was murmuring to herself with a mischievous glint in her eyes, brushing the snow-white feather against the doll's armpits.
"I'll tickle you to death!"
Just as she was thoroughly enjoying herself, the Magic Mirror's voice boomed through the study. "Mistress! Time is up! It is time to summon the Puppet Butler!"
"Huh?!"
Akane jumped in fright. Her hand jerked, and the doll slipped from her fingers.
Her pupils constricted in instant horror. This doll was bound to Hayashi Shuichi's fate! If his peculiar constitution hadn't nullified the magic, and that doll shattered on the floor, Shuichi might end up with every bone in his body broken.
"No!"
In a blind panic, she lunged to catch it. But in her haste, she missed the grab and accidentally swatted the doll with the palm of her hand, sending it flying across the room.
Smack!
Under Akane's horrified gaze, the doll traced a perfect arc through the air and plunged headfirst into the center of the boiling cauldron.
Glug, glug... A few bubbles rose to the surface, and the doll sank rapidly to the bottom.
Akane leaped off the desk, grabbed a long silver ladle, and began stirring the mixture frantically. But the doll seemed to have dissolved instantly; no matter how deep she dug, there was no trace of it.
"How could this happen..." The girl stomped her foot in frustration before turning to kick the mirror. "It's all your fault! Why did you have to shout so loud?!"
"Mistress, you commanded me to remind you the second the time was up," the mirror pleaded, its surface dimming with a sense of grievance.
"What do I do now?" Akane paced the study, tugging at her hair in a fit of anxiety. "If the doll was still working, is Hayashi Shuichi going to be boiled alive?!"
"The possibility is not zero," the mirror replied cautiously. Ancient, warning runes flickered across its surface. "I did mention the inherent risks when we were crafting it."
Just as Akane was about to cast a flight spell to rush to the Izakaya and check on Shuichi's status, the cauldron suddenly erupted in a blinding, crimson light. The glow was so intense it stained the entire study the color of fresh blood.
"What's happening? I haven't even started the incantation!" Akane stumbled back, her crimson eyes wide with shock.
"It's possible the doll reacted with the magical essence inside the cauldron," the mirror analyzed.
"I didn't just create a monster, did I?" Akane swallowed hard. She snatched her ruby-encrusted scythe from the wall and dropped into a defensive stance.
Under their tense gaze, the viscous magical fluid in the pot rose slowly, twisting and writhing in mid-air. It began to take a humanoid shape, the silhouette growing sharper until it condensed into a figure that bore a striking resemblance to the voodoo doll.
"This..." Akane's jaw dropped, her scythe nearly slipping from her grasp. "Is this even possible? My Puppet Butler looks exactly like Hayashi Shuichi?"
While it looked like him, there were distinct differences. The "person" before her had a texture more akin to polished wood or porcelain. It shared Shuichi's height and build, and the facial features were about seventy percent identical, though the lines were stiffer, like a masterpiece of high-end sculpture.
And while the figure was completely naked, it possessed no gender characteristics whatsoever—it was as smooth as a mannequin.
Thud!
The mana supporting the figure vanished, and it fell heavily, toppling the cauldron as it crashed to the floor.
Akane gripped her scythe and crept forward. When she was about three paces away, the figure's eyes snapped open—a pair of dark, lively eyes that were the spitting image of Hayashi Shuichi's.
The puppet winced, its movements natural as it reached back to rub its backside. "What the hell? Why does my butt hurt so much?"
"You... you've awakened?" Akane said, trying to force her voice to sound authoritative. "I am your Mistress. From now on, you shall serve as my butler—"
Before she could finish, the puppet interrupted her with an impatient wave. "Akane Koizumi, what kind of nonsense is this now? You want to be my 'Mistress'? I'm not one of your simps!"
"Eh? That's not right..." Akane looked at the mirror, her eyes filled with disbelief. "Isn't the summoned butler supposed to be completely obedient? Why is he talking back to me?"
"It seems the doll has fundamentally corrupted the summoning ritual," the mirror replied, its surface flickering with chaotic ripples.
"Holy crap, the mirror is talking?!"
The puppet's eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect 'O' as he stared at the mirror. After a moment, he looked around at his surroundings in total confusion.
"Wait, where am I? I was just in the storage room at the Izakaya. How did I end up here?!"
"What did you say? The Izakaya?" Akane's body trembled. The scythe fell from her hand with a loud Clang. "Who... who are you?"
"Have you lost your mind?" the puppet snapped. "Barely an hour ago, you were at the shop eating the food I cooked, and now you're asking who I am?"
"Hayashi Shuichi?" Akane stared blankly, her mouth hanging open.
"Yeah. Is it really that hard to recognize—"
Shuichi paused, looked down at himself, and let out a blood-curdling shriek.
"Whoa! Why am I completely naked?! And—wait—where?! Where has my peerless, invincible little brother gone?!"
His expression shifted from confusion to pure, unadulterated horror as his hands frantically searched the area where his pride and joy was supposed to be.
"C-Calm down," Akane let out a strained, nervous laugh. "It's possible my magic had a... slight hiccup. Let's just try to figure this out together, okay?"
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