Chapter 207

Chapter 207

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 207 Night of the Festival (2)

The festival had begun. Numerous stalls were set up inside the academy. Everywhere, lively music echoed, and colorful lights illuminated the night. Piles of food were displayed on large tables, almost overflowing, as men and women, adorned in vibrant costumes, moved about.

Those enjoying the festival were all dressed as ghosts. Most were zombies or skeletons, with occasional appearances of vampires and mummies. The Newspaper club, which had opened a cafe, was no exception.

“Welcome! This is a haunted cafe adorned with romance and chivalry!”

“The snacks are delicious, and the waiters are charming! Come on in!”

“Sancho! Get the orders ready!”

Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were actively engaging in promotional activities. Tudor, dressed in a Death Knight costume, discussed knights and romance, attracting female customers.

“Beautiful lady, would you like to discuss drinks and poetry with me at the Newspaper club’s cafe?”

“Kyaa—sure!”

“Looks like a wandering knight!”

Even Sancho, disguised as a snow maiden, was popular among other macho men.

“Wahaha! Come to the Newspaper club’s cafe! If you come before 9 p.m., we’ll serve you a boiling warrior’s blood stew as a bonus!”

“Oh? Is that a lump of protein and iron? If I drink that, I might consider lifting 3 tons!”

“Even though you’re dressed as a woman, you’ve got quite a manly vibe! Hahaha—let’s go, check it out!”

Figgy, dressed as a fairy, also attracted attention among the women.

“U-Um, excuse me. Please take this flyer!”

“Oh, my? Look at this cute child. Are you also an academy student?”

“If your concept is to stimulate maternal instincts, it’s a success! Hoho—let’s go, I’ll tell it to other older sisters.”

As a result, the area in front of the Newspaper club’s cafe became crowded with people.

Meanwhile,

“Th-this is too immodest, isn’t it? Could there be controversy? Who would put up ‘Night hound’ in the lot...?”

Saint Dolores hesitated behind the cafe. Black gloves, a black cloak, boots, and a plague doctor mask covering her entire face – the Night Hound look.

Passing by, Tudor saw Dolores and laughed.

“Well, it might be a weird coincidence, for the Night Hound attire.”

“...Is that so?”

“Still, the plague doctor mask is not unique to the Night Hound. It’s a look that frequently appears during Halloween and festivals. It’s been a traditional costume for a long time. If we suddenly prohibit certain costumes just because of Night Hound, wouldn’t that be a bit odd?”

Indeed, just by looking at the neighboring cafe, people wearing plague doctor masks could be seen from time to time. It was a costume that had steadily trended during the Halloweens of the past, making it impractical to enforce restrictions now.

“...”

Dolores was conflicted. Only she knew that Night Hound was innocent. However, dressing like this might make some people uncomfortable.

As Dolores pondered whether to go forward or not,

“What’s with that attire?”

As expected, someone appeared uncomfortable with Dolores’ outfit.

Professor Banshee Morg, the supervisor of the Newspaper club, approached.

“Dolores, I never expected you to choose such a thoughtless outfit.”

“...”

“Even though it’s a festival meant to be enjoyed without much thought, one must have considered the social repercussions of their attire, wouldn’t you say? How can one emulate such an irredeemable trash, a heinous criminal.”

Professor Banshee’s criticism was sharp.

His words fell within a rational realm of understanding, but the final remark deeply touched Dolores’s emotions.

‘He’s not a criminal! Instead, he is more sacred and noble than anyone else...!’

However, Professor Banshee, who had taken a spoonful of chicken stew and potatoes, couldn’t finish his sentence.

Delicious.

It was delicious.

Undoubtedly delicious.

“...What is this? Why is it so delicious?”

The exquisite smokiness, the sophisticated richness of the bone broth seeping through the tearing chicken, the savory taste of mashed potatoes, and the piquant and salty flavors from an unknown red sauce.

“This... this taste is unmistakably familiar to me.”But that flavor could only be found in Empire’s capital’s 5-star restaurant. How can such taste be found at an academy festival’s cafe?”

Professor Banshee, after taking a few more spoonfuls of the chicken stew, raised his head.

“Who made this? Did you bring in a professional chef from outside?”

“I doubt it.”

Dolores also looked somewhat dazed. At that moment, Tudor, passing by, turned his head.

“Oh, did it suit your taste after all? We just changed the kitchen staff.”

“Changed the kitchen staff? To whom?”

“We decided to let one exceptionally skilled person take charge of the entire kitchen. There—”

As Tudor pointed with his finger, Professor Banshee and Dolores turned their heads. Beyond the kitchen counter, a face was visible, suppressing the flames with a large frying pan.

Sizzle...

A delicate nose, thick eyebrows on flawless white skin with eyes like a lake of blood.

A mysterious atmosphere surrounded the face of a female student in a black hat and cloak, skillfully stirring the wok, slightly frowning with beads of sweat on her forehead.

But the face drenched in the firelight was so enchanting.

Even Professor Banshee and Dolores, usually composed, wore astonished expressions.

“Did we have such a female student in our department?”

Even Professor Banshee, the renowned expert, was momentarily entranced by the surreal scene.

However, Tudor’s voice shattered the enchanting scene and continued.

“Professor, have you forgotten the tradition of our academy?”

“....?”

Professor Banshee, not understanding Tudor’s words, looked confused. Eventually, an exclamation point appeared above his head.

“....!”

Yes.

The academy had a long-standing tradition.

It was none other than cross dressing.

Turning males into females and females into males.

In other words, the enchanting witch in the kitchen was a male student dressed as a female.

And it was obvious who that male student was.

“Order! Three servings of Vikir Special Spicy Chicken Stew, two servings of Vikir Special Seafood Pancake, six servings of Vikir Special Sausage and Vegetable Stir-fry, five servings of Vikir Special Oxtail Fist Rice, and also Vikir Special—”

“Hey!? Look at this, guys! Another new menu is out! How did they make such a delicious snack with leftover ingredients? What’s the name of this? What? None? Just made with whatever was left? Well, then let’s quickly add it to the menu! It’s the 32nd special new menu release!”

“Ugh! Ever since we opened the kitchen’s curtain, male customers have been rushing in excessively! At this rate, it’s better to reveal that he’s a male!”

“Oh no!? Now female customers are rushing in! Get more queue numbers!”

“What!? The number of male customers hasn’t decreased at all!? It’s even increasing! How did this happen!?”

Handling the overflowing orders, the cook, who could hardly be believed to be a student, skillfully produced simple, practical, and delicious dishes. It was none other than Vikir.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]