[Day 9 of Daily Mission]
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, once a comforting scent, now mingled with the pungent stench of arrogance. Day after that miserable day, those insufferable group had tormented us every day at the coffee shop and it became their favorite hangout place in this island, and Daniel, their self-proclaimed boss, was the master of.
"Oh, sorry... I spilled my coffee, and I can't help but get distracted by some parasitic eyesores," Daniel purred, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent as he gestured vaguely in our direction. He then had the audacity to sigh dramatically, "Hmm, I'm thinking about giving this store a bad review."
"But haven't you already done that? Like every time you entered this cafe and specifically mentioning my name?" I shot back, a sarcastic-sweet smile plastered on my face. It was the kind of smile that promised rainbows and sunshine but delivered a swift kick to the shins. "I was thinking maybe I could improve my service by gouging your eyeballs out. Think of it as a special, hands-on experience."
A collective gasp rippled through the café. It was true, Daniel was a pain in the neck, but I was no pushover. We were locked in a perpetual dance of insults and witty comebacks everyday, a theatrical performance that, bizarrely, had made our café the talk of the town.
The manager, a man who clearly prioritized profit over peace, didn't mind our daily skirmishes; they were bringing in customers who were all too eager to witness the absurd drama unfold. Also, Daniel had been paying for their group's order so it's fine.
"Should I send a complaint or should you do your job properly?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension.
"Ohh... are you dissatisfied with my service?" I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper with a hint of teasing on its tone. "You seem to have a strange kink. It looks like you love tormenting me on a daily basis. Are you that desperate for my attention?"
The question hung in the air, a verbal grenade. Daniel's face, a carefully constructed mask of superiority, began to crack. "H-huh?"
"I saw you in the library yesterday and noticed you prefer reading some unusual novels," I continued, pressing my advantage. "What's the title? The master and his servant—"
"H-hey! You dare tarnish a noble's name! I must speak with the owner!" he spluttered, his cheeks a furious shade of red.
"Pff!" I snickered, leaning in even closer. "If you do... then I'll have no choice but to inform a nearby publishing company. I mean, even if it's just a rumor, I'm sure they'd be interested in a tell-all from a noble—especially if it's sent anonymously and involves a lot of kinky drama."
I took a step back, a triumphant smirk playing on my lips. His ears, a reliable indicator of his flustered state, had turned a brilliant scarlet. He looked like a human-sized tomato with a superiority complex.
"We'll be leaving for now; I—I'll see you again," he huffed, his subordinates trailing behind him like a pack of defeated, slightly damp puppies.
"Yeah, and next time, prepare some counter-phrases because it seems like you have been frequently roasted by a mere mortal from Earth," I called out, I winked and give him a flying goodbye kiss. His head snapped back, his face a mask of pure fury.
Oh, what a glorious sight. The defeat on his face was a feast for my eyes. It was a delicious, almost addictive feeling, roasting a stupid prince who thought he could disrupt my work with his pathetic insults. As long as our jobs and family weren't at risk, I did not mind a little entertainment.
"Just wait and see... You won't last long, peasant," he spat, his glare so intense it practically gave me a headache.
As they stormed out, I noticed the girl they called Leonel. Her lips, a vibrant splash of crimson against her pale skin, curved into a smirk. It was a silent acknowledgment shared between us as the others stormed out of the cafe. She was a mystery, I didn't even know what she was thinking but I always saw her holding back her laughter from the insults I gave to his friend.
I didn't think I would enjoy this job. Not with the constant bickering with that arrogant prince. But there was a certain thrill to our verbal jousts, a wicked sort of fun in watching him lose his composure. It was a game, a performance for an audience of one, and I found myself savoring every moment.
It was also a job with its perks; our boss had given us the privilege of taking home our choice of any of the cafe's decadent desserts and pastries. I found myself grateful for his chill nature, a welcome respite from the high-strung drama I was now a part of.
—
The next day was a blessed reprieve. We decided to take a well-deserved break and go on an island tour, a mission of a different kind: shopping for clothes and other necessities.
"Can we go to the arcade?" Frank and Tyler begged, their eyes wide with childlike excitement.
"Sure, just contact us when you're finished so we can eat lunch together," ate Clydelle said, her voice laced with a weary fondness.
"Yes, ma'am!" they chirped in unison, scampering away like two giddy squirrels.
"So, what's your plan?" I asked ate Clydelle.
"Let's go find some comfy clothes."
"Alright."
We later discovered a boutique filled with the softest fabrics and most stylish designs. We bought shirts, pajamas, and shorts, embracing the simple joy of a shopping spree. But as soon as we stepped out of the store, the bubble of happiness burst. Two girls, looking at us with a scornful look were gossiping.
"They're from the mortal world, you know," one of them whispered, a hand fluttering to her mouth in mock horror.
"How dare they enter the tournament if they're not Zeraschians?" the other added, her voice dripping with disdain.
A red-hot fury surged through me. "Go ahead, I'll just talk to someone," I said to ate Clydelle, my teeth gritted.
"Huh? Sari, wait—" she called out, but I was already a girl on a mission.
"Excuse me while I tell you how annoying it is to hear such slanderous rumors," I confronted them.
"Oh? what about it?" the first girl asked, her brow furrowed in a mixture of surprise and disgust.
"What the— how rude of you to suddenly confront us," the other girl added, her nose pointed so high it could've scraped the ceiling.
"Sari, let's go, don't mind them," ate Clydelle said, grabbing my arm. I yanked it away from her, my resolve hardening.
"Excuse me? Me? Hah! I'm being disrespectful—but you guys did it first."
"Oh yeah? Look how daring you are to confront us as if YOU ARE ONE OF US."
"Wow!" I exclaimed, my anger surpassing the bar so high I couldn't even held myself back now. "I can't believe that there are people in this world who are on the same level as those uneducated racists from our world."
"What did you just say?! The arrogance of this girl! You are just a mortal from another dimension, and just to remind you— You are trespassing on our world!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the street, drawing the attention of passersby.
"Sari, let's just go, don't cause any trouble."
"Yeah! You should listen to that low species, or else we'll file an appeal to disqualify you from the tournament!" she taunted, rolling her eyes as she looked me from my head to my toe, as if I were a being that shouldn't exist.
My jaw dropped. The audacity of this girl was astounding. "Sari," Clydelle warned me again, her voice low and tense. I felt her grip on my wrist getting harder.
"Fine," I said, my voice barely a whisper. I turned to walk away, but my mind was already racing.
They needed to be taught a lesson. I took one last, long look at them, then whispered, "Time pause."
The world froze. The girls stood in mid-slander, their faces a perfect picture of smug indignation. I quickly returned to them and, feeling a delicious thrill of rebellion, I then began my work. I knew this is wrong, but so was their behavior.
I rummaged through one of the girl's bags, pulled out a vibrant red lipstick, and, with the precision of a master painter, drawn their faces with it. Then, I politely returned the lipstick to her pocket, wiped the excess on her clothes and bag, and stood back beside ate Clydelle.
"Time Play."
3... 2... 1...
"KYAAAAAHHH!" they both screamed, their horrified shrieks a symphony to my ears. They stared at each other, their faces a chaotic mess of bright red smears.
"Pfft—" I clamped a hand over my mouth, a giggle threatening to escape.
"Hey." Ate Clydelle's voice was a mixture of surprise and amusement.
I feigned a cough, my face a mask of innocence. "What? I didn't do anything."
Ate Clydelle, ever the accomplice, simply shook her head and smirked. "Serves them right." We both burst into laughter, our triumph a shared, glorious secret.
"Well, I told you I hold the time," I said, a proud smile on my face.
"Hey!" a good-looking man with a mischievous glint in his eyes said, waving his hand at us. "I saw what you did there." My eyes widened in terror.
My secret, my beautiful, beautiful secret of revenge... someone witnessed it...