How to Befriend a Witch (4)

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'Witches mostly live gathered in a place called the Otherworld.'

This fact, at least, was known by most people too busy making a living to go out of their way to learn about witches.

For example, since talk about soccer (monsters) kept coming up around you, you naturally came to know a few famous soccer players (witches)… You can think of it as roughly the same sort of flow.

Thus, knowing at least these four—monsters, magic, witches, and the Otherworld—was more or less the norm.

On top of that, I was someone who considered working out, playing games, and jerking off far more important than witches.

"The address says South Korea?"

I had always assumed all witches lived in the Otherworld.

"It could be South Korea. As it happens, I live just five stops from here?"

"Aha…."

"…Judging by that, I guess you thought all witches lived in the Otherworld?"

"It's embarrassing, but… yes."

"Hmm. A witch mainly obsessed with 'magical research' would find the Otherworld convenient, but otherwise, there's no reason to live in that inconvenient place."

"I see?"

"How could you live somewhere without internet or YouTube?"

It sounded like a perfect place to develop a mental illness.

I nodded obediently, then looked over the apprentice witch's photo and personal information the team leader had handed me.

This game-addicted apprentice witch's name was Neria. Neria Heka.

They say it's difficult to guess a witch's age from her appearance alone, but fortunately, it was written here that she was turning twenty this year.

It wasn't particularly important, but since we were the same age, my eyes lingered on it once more for no reason.

The other thing that drew my attention was, of course, the absurd beauty unique to witches.

I deliberately kept my gaze on the writing, but after who knew how long, my eyes moved back toward Neria's picture again.

As you may have noticed from the expression 'once more,' I had already looked at nothing but the photo about five times in a short while.

"Is she really that pretty? Why do your eyes keep going back to the exact same spot? Ahaha."

"She is pretty… Apprentice Witch Neria…, no, should I call you Witch?"

"You probably won't get in trouble if you just call her 'Witch.' Later, you can even speak informally to her in bed."

"…I'll keep that in mind."

"And, well, I understand how you feel. They say humans spin random genetic gacha, but we're ideal bodies personally sculpted by the moon."

"Gacha… does fit. Yes."

After humoring the team leader, who was grinning as if asking whether I was jealous, I straightened the photo in my hand a little more.

I straightened the photo in my hand a little more.

Long, pale-blue hair. And pale-blue eyes.

My eyes were drawn once again to those unusual colors, ones difficult to see except in dyed hair or cosplay.

And although colors that light should have looked awkward, the snow-white skin that somehow pulled them off incredibly well was an added bonus.

Maybe her skin was that white because she holed up in a tiny room doing magical research—no, playing games.

Or maybe it was because she was a witch, and she'd look exactly the same even if she were left standing under the blazing sun for twenty-four hours.

Having entertained such foolish thoughts, I forcibly shifted my gaze back to the writing.

I simply committed the witch-related explanations—things like her being a Water Apprentice Witch—to memory.

Even if I knew them, they seemed useful for nothing beyond making it obvious that I'd done my homework.

That would probably only earn me resentment rather than favor from a hikikomori witch.

So, just enough that I could subtly make use of them myself…

I wanted to know things like what Neria liked and disliked.

"Games and reading books. Seems like she doesn't have any particular hobbies besides those two. Her likes are unknown, too."

"That's according to my friend, so you can trust it."

"Her dislikes are… rude men. Stupid men. Men with no self-awareness. Pushy men. Men who can't control themselves around women. Men. Just men in general…."

"That's according to my friend, too. When I asked what kind of man would work, that's what she said."

"…Sounds like you were planning to just snatch one up somewhere."

"Hmm… Since it's just the two of us talking, maybe I was?"

How could the balance be this lopsided?

I let out a deep sigh and gave myself a light stretch.

Should I take care of the penis problem first?

If I became a cute TS girl, she might still listen to me…

No, then the semen… would get complicated.

So, assuming I had no choice but to carry the disadvantage of being a man,

at least some of the things Neria liked overlapped with my hobbies.

I enjoyed games to some extent, too, after all.

But would that be enough to keep a conversation going?

I only used games to kill time when I had some to spare; judging by Neria's condition, it wouldn't be strange if she played games all day long.

If so, even if I brought up games, instead of building rapport, she might just think, 'He's just a normie….'.

In cruder terms, she seemed like the sort who'd have gamer superiority complex.

"At least it's a relief that she'll be easy to visit. Even if she lives in South Korea, it would've been awful if she were in Busan, Jeju Island, or Dokdo. But Mapo-gu, Seoul…."

"Oh, that's fine. I may not look it, but teleportation is one of my specialties, even among witches."

"I see. That's impressive."

"You can't just end it at 'I see.'! Teleportation may be one of the branches of basic magic, but I'm not limited to just that! For example, I'm incredibly good with chopsticks, my handwriting is sparkling and elegant, and also…."

Right, right.

Reading the room, I started letting the rest go in one ear and out the other.

It wasn't because I didn't want to listen; it was more that she had far too little of a wall between herself and other people.

Honestly, it was hard to keep up.

She was like a capybara.

"I have a question, Team Leader."

"Such elegant formality, practically a ceremony in itself… Ah, yes. A question?"

"What if Neria turns me away at the door, too? Should I contact you first in that case?"

"No, no. If I force my way in, it'll only backfire. Even if anyone helps, it'll be my friend helping. You remember I said Neria's master was my friend, right?"

"Yes…."

"Since our Dowon chose the difficult path for the sake of functioning in society, I'll get my friend to promise me, too. Tell them to open the door even if they have to smash it down."

"……."

So she'd been planning this all along. I set that thought aside for the moment.

I more or less understood what she meant.

If her friend was softhearted, they'd knock on the door beside me; if they were a rough witch, they'd smash the door down in my place.

If I was unbelievably unlucky, we might have ended up doing nothing but knocking on the door together, but the team leader's promise meant I had avoided that path.

Now all that remained was.

"So do I really just have to worry about somehow… …ejaculating inside Neria?"

This.

The team leader answered by grinning and tugging up the corners of her mouth.

"Of course. If it comes to it, I can even turn her into someone who can't live without a dick, you know?"

*****

That's what the team leader said, but unfortunately, I didn't have the power to turn a woman into that much of a sex addict.

Not that I had the power—I had never even tried.

Fortunately, I did have experience with women before the CSAT… No, this story looks like it'll get long, so let's save it for later.

Anyway, as the team leader had said, even if turning her into someone who couldn't live without a dick was impossible, I thought that if I got the chance, I could at least make her able to enjoy sex comfortably, like my ex-girlfriends had.

The day after receiving only a brief orientation and introduction to the workplace,

I visited a luxury apartment somewhere in Mapo-gu, Seoul, wearing a civil servant ID around my neck that read 'Nam Dowon.'

…It must cost a pretty penny to live somewhere like this.

Did she have some other way of making money?

Or did the money come from the pocket of the master who had passed down the surname Heka?

Even if Neria had made money from gaming, hadn't she made far too much of it, considering how much this place cost?

Nervously thinking all sorts of nonsense to myself, I pressed the doorbell.

Ding-dong-

The first doorbell rang softly, but there was no particular response.

Was she not home?

Or maybe she couldn't hear it because of her headset.

I came up with several possibilities and pressed the doorbell once more.

Ding-dong-

This time, I sensed some sign of movement from inside.

I wondered if she had the sort of day-and-night schedule unique to unemployed shut-ins, but apparently it wasn't quite that bad.

If I rang the bell one more time here, it felt like I'd head straight for a bad ending, so I stood in front of the door and stretched my facial muscles as much as possible.

First impressions were always important.

They said you couldn't spit in a smiling face, so it was worth paying attention to at least this much.

Let's somehow make this work.

"Who is it…?"

"Ah, hello. Apprentice Witch Neria. I'm from Seoul City Hall. Um… I'm here from the 'Apprentice Witch Rehabilitation Support Department.'…"

So she wasn't going to show her face right away, after all.

I heard Neria's voice not through the gap in the door, but through the intercom.

So for now, I stood in front of it and spoke.

"Rehabilitation… Ah. The thing my master mentioned…."

"That's right. Could you open the door, please?"

"…Please wait a moment."

"……."

"……Ah, fuck, what a pain in the ass…."

The words after that weren't meant for me, but sounded like a very quiet mutter to herself.

Still, I'd expected at least some annoyance along the lines of 'Fuck off and get lost,' so if that was the extent of it, I figured I could call her a fairly gentlemanly apprentice witch.

I'd heard there were witches who wouldn't open the door at all, so compared to them, this definitely counted as gentlemanly.

Fortunately, she apparently hadn't been lying; after a short wait, the faint sound of someone approaching reached the front door.

Then, with a chirp, the door lock responsible for security opened easily.

Pale-blue hair, just as I'd seen in the photo, peeked out through the crack in the door.

"…You're that guy, right? …The semen guy."

"I suppose I am."

"Come in for now. It's embarrassing to talk about this in the hallway."

I recalled the personal information saying she was 168 centimeters tall. She seemed shorter than I'd expected.

Maybe it was because of the oversized T-shirt Neria was wearing, which, put less charitably, looked shabby.

And the fact that her absurd beauty from the photograph was exactly the same in real life was… besides the point.

Considering how densely the word 'men' had been listed among Neria's dislikes, I was being treated quite well.

That half-formal speech I'd just heard?

I'd braced myself for anything from casual speech to outright swearing and being treated like a slave, so this was excitingly good.

Besides, whatever the reason, she'd told me to come inside, which meant I had practically already achieved fifty percent of my goal, didn't it?

Judging from the mutter I'd heard earlier, she still seemed to hate it, but inviting me inside suggested she was at least somewhat willing to cooperate…

Maybe this would be easier than I'd thought.

"Excuse me."

"……."

After the door closed behind me, just as I was breathing a sigh of relief—

Neria paused for a moment, then spoke.

"Hey, male prostitute."

"……?"

"Stay quiet and then just leave. I feel sorry that you'll get fired, so I'll cooperate this much."

"……Pardon?"

"Use that room over there. Lie down and sleep or whatever; do as you please."