* * *
“I have something to say to the distinguished members of high society who have gathered here today.”
Mariposa, who had been standing on the elevated platform in Florette Hall, stepped aside. From the shadows emerged a short, elderly middle-aged man—Viscount Milpianne.
“I would like to announce the union between our Florette family and the house of Viscount Milpianne.”
Beside Viscount Milpianne stood Giselle, her complexion dark and troubled.
The viscount extended his wrinkled hand with a slimy smile. “Oh, Giselle. What a beautiful lady.”
“…”
“How is my hair? Isn’t it beautiful and lustrous?”
But Giselle remained silent, quietly keeping her eyes downcast as if lamenting her own fate.
The nobles below the platform looked at each other and burst into continuous snickers.
“Lady Giselle looks like a cute little deep-sea fish as usual, doesn’t she?” Meaning Giselle’s face was as gloomy as a deep-sea creature.
Having thoroughly mocked Giselle, they fluttered their fans and chattered about society gossip.
“Today is an occasion with high-ranking nobles in attendance. Shouldn’t the fiancée dress more appropriately…?”
“Seeing her shamelessly hold her position in such an old dress, she really is the ‘everyone’s lover,’ isn’t she?”
“If she gets engaged to Viscount Milpianne this time, will she truly become the ‘everyone’s lover’?”
Giselle was famous for clinging desperately to two men—Marquis Berto and Duke Reshaniel.
At the mocking reference to herself as the ‘everyone’s lover,’ Giselle bowed her head and sighed as usual, offering no rebuttal. “Haah…” Her hands trembled delicately like a rain-soaked puppy.
Then Mariposa whispered coldly toward Giselle. “On the day of announcing your engagement, you came wearing such a pathetic and cheap dress, Giselle Florette.”
Just as the smiles on people’s faces deepened at her appearance of being on the verge of tears— Giselle slowly lifted her head and parted her trembling lips.
“Ah, seriously, shut up.”
In an instant, the surroundings froze.
“What did you just say?”
“I said shut up.”
“…W-What did you say?”
“Why? Are your ears clogged or something?” Giselle’s lips were quivering as if she might bite someone at any moment, and her eyes were wide open.
Mariposa opened her mouth with a shocked expression. “E-Ears? Clogged?”
“I was talking to myself, but our dear Madam Mariposa has such good hearing.”
Had she suddenly gone insane?
In any world, it’s common sense not to get close to crazy people. Everyone lost their words and took a step back from Giselle in unison.
* * *
Yeah, your petty roundabout insult doesn’t work on me anymore.
Maybe if I was the same Giselle, the tragic female lead in my first life, I wouldn’t know how to handle this. But I have 3,650 days of part-time experience. BBQ restaurants, movie theaters, kids’ coffeehouses, government offices, and even home shopping call centers.
That’s right. As a modern person in my second life, I was a master of the part-time world, having mastered dealing with difficult customers.
Go ahead, talk behind my back, to my face, curse me out—I’ll block it all!
In my past life, I had faced countless difficult customers who thought service workers were beneath them. It started with my very first part-time job doing product promotion at Mart!
“It’s a sale period, right? So why isn’t there a discount? Are you messing with customers?”
A young father threw a doll at my cheek.
I bowed my head like a criminal and mumbled.
“This product isn’t part of the sale period…”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault? This won’t do. Hey, call the manager.”
“T-The manager is…”
“Is this how you train part-timers here?”
“I’m sorry, sir…”
“Ah, forget it. Call the manager! What’s the point of talking to some part-timer?”
At that moment, what embraced my mind was a terrible sense of humiliation. I really cried quite a lot that day. But just as they say, practice makes perfect, working part-time in the service industry for ten years makes you a cultural anthropologist of difficult customers.
“Hey, part-timer! There’s a hair in my food! Bring out the owner here!”
“The chef is bald, sir.”
“Ahem, ahem!”
People like that usually go away when you hit them with facts. But there were also the malicious and persistent types.
“Listen here. I know my meat, and how is this supposed to be one serving?”
“It is one serving though?”
“I’m from Majang-dong, okay? I’m an expert. So how is this one serving, huh? Get the owner out here!”
On the table sat raw meat that hadn’t even been properly grilled. With all the other customers watching, I deliberately started sobbing loudly.
“The owner passed away last night.”
“W-What?”
The difficult customer rolled his eyes with a completely flustered expression. Everyone was now whispering and taking my side.
“Wow, the owner died?”
“What the? Is he harassing the dead now? What a trash.”
Just then, the BBQ restaurant owner who was about to come out of the kitchen quickly backstep-ped. He mouthed, ‘Yeah, I’m resurrecting tomorrow.’
I pretended to wipe away tears while speaking in a quick and dry tone.
“On behalf of the deceased owner, let me explain—we weigh everything on a digital scale before serving. See, look here?”
“Wait, w-when the hell did you start carrying around that digital scale…”
“One serving is 150 grams. It’s exactly right.”
The customer’s face, turning bright red, was still vivid in my memory.
I’ve dealt with Korea’s Karen since I was a teenager—you think I can’t handle one petty backstabbing attack? Compared to modern-day Karen, who complains day and night, these people look as delicate as greenhouse flowers.
I tilted my head sideways as I stared at Mariposa.
“Giselle, I can’t tolerate your insolent words and behavior. I told you to be quiet.”
“Excuse me.”
Alright, difficult customer elimination method, stage one is now activating. First, I slow down my voice and change the atmosphere. And then…
“Did you happen to eat fish or something before coming here?” I calmly covered my nose. Very composedly and peacefully, I delivered a personal attack.
Mariposa’s face, quick to catch on, instantly turned bright red.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Giselle? How vulgar and uncouth.”
“Ah, really. Okay, I get it. Just like Madam Mariposa said, I’m filthy, so I’ll just wrap myself in a trash bag and go bury myself underground right now. What’s the point of someone like me living anyway?”
“W-W-What did you say?”
Difficult customer elimination method, stage two. Right when their mind starts getting confused, immediately shut them up with sharp and excessive self-deprecating rapid-fire.
Mariposa, left speechless, looked around before fixing her gaze on the table beside the platform.
Let’s see what comes next. That woman can’t control her anger. Plus, her opponent is me. Given this world’s tendency to go completely unreasonable only with me, it’s obvious what she’ll try to do to me.
Just as I expected, she grabbed the teacup with an expression of uncontrollable rage and splashed the tea to my face. Splash!
“O-Oh gosh!”
“Viscount Milpianne!”
“A-Are you alright?”
But I wasn’t the one who got hit by the tea. The tea flying toward me suddenly curved sharply and struck the face of Viscount Milpianne, who had been trying to reach my hand—no, actually.
“G-Gasp…”
It struck his wig, disguised as what seemed like thick hair. Plop. The black wig fell pathetically to the floor. Under the chandelier’s light, his bald head gleamed smoothly in the air.
“M-My hair… What the hell is this all of a sudden!” Viscount Milpianne’s face went pale as he grasped the situation. He fumbled around, picking up the wig rolling on the floor, then stamped his feet in fury.
I covered my mouth mischievously and giggled. “Oh my, what just happened? Maybe it was the wind! Or perhaps it was Madam Mariposa’s breath?”
Of course, Mariposa wasn’t someone with the ability to throw water in a curve. Thanks to all the times you’ve worked me as a servant, I picked up some cleaning magic, you know?
I had almost no mana left in my body, but I could still manage simple wind magic. Of course, Mariposa would never figure it out. Since she thinks I can’t do anything at all.
And you know what… This isn’t over yet.
Clink! I pulled out that pitch-black ‘thing’ from the pocket inside my dress and grinned wickedly.
