Chapter 71: I Am Your Loyal Servant

It didn’t take long before the two of them arrived outside an apartment building, the night air cool and quiet. The streetlights flickered faintly, throwing long shadows on the ground as Raphael’s stiff, mechanical steps echoed in the narrow corridor. Her silver hair shimmered dimly under the pale light as she stopped in front of a door and pressed the doorbell with an almost robotic motion.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open. A red-haired girl in pajamas appeared, rubbing her sleepy eyes and yawning wide enough to show her little fangs.

“Huh? Raphael? What are you doing here this late?” Satania blinked, still half-asleep, scratching her head in confusion.

“I came to…” Raphael started, her lips moving against her will. Her expression froze as the words twisted on her tongue, forcing out a different sentence entirely. “—I came to be your loyal servant, you know.”

“S-Servant?” Satania’s crimson eyes widened, suddenly sparkling. “Really?!”

“Of course, Satania-sama.” Raphael’s voice was gentle, her smile eerily calm.

“Ahahahaha!” Satania immediately struck her signature pose—one hand on her hip, the other dramatically pressed to her forehead. “Raphael, you’ve finally realized who the true ruler is!”

“Yes, of course, the great and mighty Archdemon Satania-sama.”

“Sa-Satania-sama!” The red-haired demon’s eyes went glassy with joy, her lips stretching into a wide grin that revealed her shiny little fang. “Since you’re begging so sincerely, I’ll reluctantly accept your offer!”

“Come in, come in!” she said proudly, puffing her chest out like a victorious cat.

Raphael entered the apartment. The stiffness in her body began to ease, and she exhaled a small sigh of relief, glancing around at the cluttered little room filled with snacks, magazines, and a half-folded futon on the floor.

But before she could think, her eyes widened again.

“Raphael, you can sit down…” Satania said casually.

And so, the silver-haired angel immediately sat—on the floor.

“Eh?” Satania blinked. “Why are you sitting by the door?!” She threw her hands up in disbelief. “Nobody sits at the entrance like that! You’re stealing my minion’s job!”

“Get up already!”

And Raphael stood straight up, just as stiffly as before.

“You’re seriously acting weird today…” Satania muttered, squinting at her. “Whatever, I’ll just enjoy it.”

“As a servant, serving your master is part of the training!” Satania laughed, one hand on her hip, the other pointing dramatically toward the ceiling. “Raphael, hang up the laundry I just washed!”

“Yes, Satania-sama.”

“Raphael, wash the fruit in the kitchen!”

“Yes…”

“Raphael, cut the apple into small pieces and feed me!”

“Yes…”

“Raphael, come and massage my legs!”

“Yes—wait, what the hell is this?!”

At that instant, Raphael’s calm composure cracked completely.

There was no doubt in her mind—this was that bastard’s revenge.

It had to be some kind of twisted master-servant contract. She was the servant, Satania was the master, and her body was forced to obey any order. Even her mouth refused to form words of refusal.

Oh heavens… she had actually become this idiot’s servant!

Fortunately, her mind was still free. Only her body was under control—for now.

But how long would that last…?

Raphael sat on the sofa, brow furrowed in deep thought. The hum of the refrigerator and Satania’s humming filled the silence as she searched desperately for a loophole.

Then a familiar, shrill laugh shattered the air. “Ahahaha! Raphael, take off your clothes!”

“W-What?!” Raphael’s eyes flew open in horror.

You—you perverted demon! How dare you—!

Did that bastard anticipate this exact scenario?!

But two girls, doing something like that—impossible!

Yet she couldn’t speak, couldn’t resist. Her hands moved on their own, fingers brushing her collar as she unbuttoned one, then another, until her smooth white collarbone gleamed under the lamp.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Satania screamed, her cheeks blazing as she turned away, waving her arms wildly. “You’re supposed to change in the bathroom! Who strips in the living room?!”

Raphael exhaled deeply, relief washing over her as her body moved once more—this time toward the bathroom.

The warm water ran over her skin, steam filling the air in thick waves. Droplets glided down her shoulders, over her curves, shimmering under the dim bathroom light. Her reflection in the fogged mirror was ghostly, her silver hair clinging to her back.

“This won’t do. Who knows what ridiculous orders that fool will give next? I have to regain control somehow,” she muttered, biting her lip.

Time passed, and the red-haired demon’s voice rang impatiently from outside. “Raphael! Are you done yet? It’s been forever!”

Moments later, Raphael emerged—expression blank, body stiff, still naked as the day she was born.

“Ah! My eyes!!” Satania screamed, throwing her hands over her face as a near-holy radiance flooded the room. “Why aren’t you wearing pajamas, damn it?!”

“…”

By the time Raphael was dressed again, the clock neared eleven. The tension had mostly drained from the air, replaced by an awkward silence.

Satania yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Raphael…”

“Stop.” Raphael’s hand snapped up instantly.

“Eh?”

“How about we play a game?” Raphael smiled slightly before Satania could speak. “A quiet one. Whoever talks first loses.”

“Okay, okay.”

“You talked, so you lost, Satania-sama.”

“Wha—? That counts?!” Satania gawked, pointing an accusing finger.

“What’s wrong? The great Satania-sama isn’t backing down, is she?”

“O-Of course not!” Satania puffed her cheeks, but her confidence melted when Raphael leaned in close, her voice soft and teasing.

A faint breath brushed her ear, smelling faintly of soap and warmth. “Satania-sama, please don’t speak. A bet is a bet. Otherwise, you’ll lose your loyal servant.”

Satania froze, face red, her eyes darting nervously. “Mmph!” She could only glare back, silently fuming.

“Hmm, so thoughts and expressions don’t work either,” Raphael murmured, reaching for a notebook on the table. “Satania-sama, do you want me to help with your homework? If yes, write it down.”

Satania eagerly nodded and scribbled quickly. Raphael’s eyes scanned the page, her expression unreadable.

“So even written orders don’t override the contract, huh?” she whispered. “Too easy.”

Her smirk returned, elegant and poised. “Now then, Satania-sama, I’m thirsty. Please bring me a glass of milk—and no talking, or you’ll lose your loyal servant.”

Satania’s cheeks puffed up again, but she stomped toward the kitchen, muttering silently in frustration.

When she returned with the milk, Raphael sipped it slowly, eyes half-closed in satisfaction.

“Satania-sama, my legs are sore. Please massage them. No talking, or you’ll lose your loyal servant.”

Satania’s fists clenched as she glared at the smug angel. “Mmph!” She obeyed anyway, kneeling beside the sofa to lightly press her fists against Raphael’s legs.

“Good girl,” Raphael murmured, leaning back lazily.

Satania’s cheeks went crimson again, a mix of embarrassment and anger boiling inside.

“Satania-sama, may I borrow your phone for a bit? Don’t speak—but in return, I’ll do all your homework for the next few days.”

The red-haired demon’s eyes lit up instantly. She nodded eagerly, handing her phone over like an offering.

“Thank you, Satania-sama,” Raphael said sweetly, taking it with a victorious smile.

“Satania-sama, please wash an apple and feed it to me.”

“You—!”

“No talking, or you’ll lose your loyal servant.”

Satania trembled, fists shaking, but she bit her lip and marched off toward the kitchen.

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