Chapter 323
Chapter 323
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 323
Chapter Title: Gehenna's Host Bar (6)
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1.
1 p.m.
The day of the grand opening had arrived.
Siu, who had spent the night and morning studying hospitality manners, glanced out the window and felt heartburn for the first time in ages.
"Takasho, what the hell is that? It's kinda scary."
"That's what I should be saying... How the hell have you been living?"
Peeking through the curtains, the alley in Malkuth Gallery was packed with people.
More precisely, it was lined with witches.
Even Takasho, who had been through thick and thin in Gehenna, and Siu, who had shared the slave life with him—neither had ever seen a line of so many witches in their lives.
And the shop hadn't even opened yet.
It wasn't hard to guess that Periwinkle had spread the word just enough.
"Whew... This is our chance. Gotta leave a deep impression on our future customers... I can do this..."
"Time to get ready."
Takasho, muttering beside him, suddenly pulled Siu into a tight hug.
A line of customers waiting out front like Vienna sausages—it was a sight he couldn't even dream of.
Overwhelmed by how to handle them all, he couldn't help but feel grateful to Siu.
"Thanks, buddy. I won't waste this opportunity you gave me."
"We're all helping each other out. I've benefited a ton from you too, so no need to get all sappy."
Siu had predicted the situation more accurately than Takasho, but seeing it in person hit different.
Of course, he hadn't stepped up to help with the intention of selling his body.
Siu's role was strictly as bait merchandise.
He planned to make the rounds, spending about 15 minutes per table.
Only witches who bought top-shelf liquor would get an hour of designated service as a perk, and seconds were naturally off-limits.
He aimed to draw enough aggro to attract customers even without a male witch's presence, planning to help out for about two weeks.
"Takasho. But can I really pull this off?"
That aside, he honestly lacked confidence.
Just chatting would've been fine, but what he had to do was 'hospitality.'
Against that many picky witches, no less...
"What are you talking about? You'll be great. No doubt."
Takasho stared at him like he'd said something ridiculous.
No idea where this blind faith came from.
He gave his appearance one last mirror check.
A slicked-back undercut with clothes dangling like a swallow's tail—what was pretty about that?
Takasho had even pushed a chained monocle, but he'd firmly refused.
Witches' aesthetic standards were baffling sometimes.
"Alright, shall we make some legends?"
"You got it, buddy."
The two in perfectly tailored suits strode toward the front door.
It was the historic afternoon when Gehenna's first host bar, Rose Glass, officially opened its doors.
2.
"We're honored to serve you, milady.
Given the number of guests exceeding our current capacity, we're issuing wait tickets to provide the best service.
If you'll share your remote crystal contact, we'll reach out the moment your turn arrives.
For those who find coming and going a hassle, feel free to relax in the lounges on the second and third floors."
You couldn't just let crowds in willy-nilly.
The host bar could seat a max of 30.
If a high-end, refined spot turned into a flea market, it'd be a disaster of epic proportions.
So Takasho split staff into four teams, capped daily customers at 120 with wait tickets, and offered mid-grade liquor free to those waiting as apology and thanks.
Service began smoothly without complaints.
"Table 12's out of snacks. Refill. They seem to like cheese, so focus on Stilton."
"Yes, sir!"
"Table 2 ordered wine—prep the decanter. Caviar arrived?"
"Fresh this dawn."
"Taste it; if it's good, serve with."
"Right away, manager."
Takasho bustled about handling service, guidance, complaints, and checking staff performance.
Today, he wasn't hosting but managing as floor boss and kitchen liaison.
With a former hotel chef and sommelier on staff, service wouldn't be half-baked.
"Hello? Milady, an honor to serve you. Name's Liam."
"Paul here."
Witches escorted to seats, hosts entering.
Each booth had standing screens for privacy and comfort.
As Periwinkle advised, pre-chilled Dom Pérignon and snacks were standard.
Dim lighting for ambiance, gramophone playing, of course.
Maybe hire a band later if things boomed.
"Can't rely on Siu forever."
Witches had no clear concept of a 'host bar' yet.
Like mala tang hitting Korea for the first time.
How much of mala tang's true flavor could he teach them while Siu—the sticky sweet-and-sour pork—shone?
This business, and Takasho's life, hung on it.
Yet amid the tension, he felt ecstasy and thrill.
"Ah... I'm alive."
Full house, champagne pops echoing.
Soft, unpredictable giggles from tiny, scary ladies.
Memories of Kabukicho days set his blood boiling.
Started as lowly dorm grunt with six roommates.
Cleaning shared bathrooms for thirty, chugging champagne by the bucket for extra bottles.
Crushed rivals, climbed ranks, burned youth bright.
Bike to Porsche, 400 sq ft dorm to penthouse.
Host bar life till no one on night streets didn't know Takasho's name.
The battlefield where a man's dream, thought forever lost, slept.
Takasho had dreamed of being king of the night there.
Truck-smacked isekai turned it to bubbles.
But now, finally.
A shot at dreaming again.
Running a ultra-luxury host bar unimaginable on Earth.
No room for the tiniest slip.
"I'm here for that male witch or whatever. You've been sweet-talking, but you think you can make me happy? Cocky bastard."
Takasho's sharpened ears caught the first complaint.
Expected. Counter manuals and staff training ready.
But best to demonstrate first.
He inhaled, slipped through the standing blind.
A brown-haired Slavic witch scowled fiercely.
"Greetings, Lady Silla Christian. Manager Mimaya Takasho."
She gawked at his entrance.
"What? You know my name?"
She hadn't introduced herself once, yet this manager knew it.
"Overheard your friend call it at Malkuth Gallery last time."
Lie, of course.
For today, he'd memorized names and faces of Gehenna notables and local Renomond Town witches.
Potential VIPs.
True hosts remember not just visitors' names, but non-visitors' too.
"You were so striking, it's stuck with me."
Shifted from formal to natural respect, knelt to eye level.
But no way that doused her ire.
Silla's brief surprise faded to lingering disgust.
"Tch, whatever. Think I'm so idle I'd wait here for some guy?"
"How can I earn your forgiveness?"
"Forgiveness? You think you can beg it from me?"
Seemed raging on, but momentum waned.
Takasho's play worked.
He met her eyes squarely.
"If my sincerity reaches you, I'll do anything."
Apologize for bad moods.
Never grovel.
Witches were haughty, status-obsessed.
But women still.
Cringing at tantrums just fueled more; never a plus.
"That so?"
Silla smirked, slipped off her heel.
Filled it with open Dom Pérignon.
Grinned sadistically: 'Bet you won't.'
Childish power plays common in host bars.
"Drink this clean... Huh?"
Before she finished, Takasho grabbed the heel, drained the champagne spotless.
Smiled brightly back.
His fresh grin held no displeasure.
Dom in a beauty's heel? Massive reward.
"Does this ease your mood a bit?"
Stunned—she hadn't expected zero hesitation accepting the humiliation.
He rose, straightened clothes, leaving her frozen.
"Forgiveness full might be stretch, but a bit more patience would be appreciated."
Turned to leave; she called desperately.
"W-Wait...!"
"Yes, listening."
"You actually drank that? No pride?"
"If it softens Lady Silla's anger even slightly, my meager pride's unnecessary."
Her irritated face cracked with bewilderment in under a minute.
Let complaints vent fully.
Even Gehenna witches were greenhouse flowers to Takasho, veteran of Japanese club girls and rich aunties.
Timing for over-the-top line, laced with Gehenna incense.
"I know it's lacking, but we're striving to bloom one smile on Lady Silla's face. My sole wish: you enjoy even a little.
As atonement, better liquor incoming—hold tight? On my tab, naturally."
"......"
Silla softened, even a tad guilty.
'Better liquor' calculated perfectly.
Women most generous post-rage or mild guilt.
As expected, she refused the freebie.
"Nah, I buy my drinks. I was petty. This'll do."
"No need..."
"This. Two bottles—mine and this friend's."
"Coming right up."
Arms crossed, acting tsundere, but stealing glances at his retreating back.
Takasho felt it.
Melting furious women, turning picky ones into return seekers.
That host essence, no?
He schooled his expression.
Manager couldn't grin idiotically.
Resumed rounds, checking service.
"Wonder how Siu's doing?"
Recalling Periwinkle treatment, witches in his phone—probably fine.
But Takasho quietly headed to Siu's central booth.