Chapter 27: Silver Lady Hall

(Part One)

July 27, 2025, Sunday.

A sharp sense of crisis jolts Cola awake from her dream.
First thing, she opens her banking app to check her balance.
Over a million yen left from her allowance.
Seems like a lot, but in Japan’s pricey economy, it’s barely 50,000 RMB—hardly enough to get by.
“Food and veggies keep rising, damn capitalist country…”
Cola rolls over on the tatami, hugging her phone, and shuts off the humming AC.
“One day, I, Tom, will plant red flags worldwide… let everyone eat cheap veggies, fruits, and fresh rice!”
She grumbles, cursing Japan’s lack of a “vegetable basket program,” slamming the prime minister as a useless target dummy, and whining about her mom not tossing her a few million USD to burn through.
What a failed rich kid…
The crisis hits again, propelling her off the floor.
A million yen, plus random fees and taxes, might last six months if she’s frugal.
That’s ten months’ salary for an average worker back in Qingguo.
Without action, she’ll burn through it and end up borrowing shady loans, spiraling into debt, then snatched by yakuza to “earn” money…
“No way I’m living like that!”
Facing the bathroom mirror, Cola yells, clenching her fists.
“Just turn invisible and rob a bank… no, no, Mom said if I do anything immoral, she’ll cut the research funds to turn me back into a guy! Guess… I’ll have to work.”
In Japan, student part-time jobs are common.
Many high schoolers earn pocket money or even support themselves.
Part-time jobs (arubaito) and full-time work are distinct here—think temp versus permanent.
The gap’s bigger than in Qingguo; permanent jobs are nearly impossible to lose, and lifelong employment is normal for many Japanese.
Part-time pay starts low, so banking on multiple jobs for big bucks is unrealistic.
You might work two or three jobs, only to lose half your pay to taxes—though the income threshold rose this year, so maybe less tax.
Most people stick to one job, ideally short hours with decent pay.
But those gigs are rare, which is why so many end up at convenience stores or McDonald’s.
“Maybe ask Liuli… wanna work together? Summer break’s got a month left, earning extra cash wouldn’t hurt.”
Cola mutters, wiping her damp face with a towel, then grabs her phone and heads to the living room.
“Liuli, free today?”
Yesterday’s chat lingers, stirring unease.
Thankfully, Liuli replies quickly, as if nothing happened:
“Sorry, Miss Cola, I’m out today. Tomorrow okay?”
“Tomorrow? Sure, let’s talk then.”
“Great, message me if you need anything.”
“OK.”
Cola sends a cute anime emoji, then inhales nervously.
Something feels off—Liuli’s tone seems distant.
It’s just text, but the vibe’s different, more reserved.
“She’s being cautious? Damn, shouldn’t have joked like that yesterday.”
Cola tugs her hair.
“She hates me now, ugh, I’m such an idiot!”
Regret’s useless—even vampires can’t rewind time.
So, she pulls herself together, deciding to make use of this cloudy, sunless day to scout around.
First, she browses job apps for part-time gigs, ideally evening shifts, so she can keep working after summer break for steady income.
“Hm, this one’s good, this too, this’ll do… shortlist them all… then pick the best-paying one that’s hardest to get…”
Her eyes land on a listing.
“A café job, flexible hours, two hours minimum, 1,600 yen per hour…”
1,600 yen is about 80 RMB hourly, 160 for two hours.
Live frugally, and it’s enough to scrape by.
Short hours mean it won’t be too taxing after school.
But high-paying gigs like this often have hidden catches—special skills or providing “emotional value” to customers.
If it’s just about looks, that’s easy.
Cola’s pretty confident in her current body’s appearance.
“Minimum 10 hours a week, max 20… so, up to 128,000 yen a month.”
She counts on her fingers, nodding firmly.
“Yup, this one first. Address is… Chiyoda Town, not too far. I’ll walk. Oh, light rain today, better bring the umbrella…”

(Part Two)

At the street corner, there’s no café as the navigation promised.
Instead, a clean, three-story building stands before her.
White exterior walls, floor-to-ceiling glass on the first and second floors, but the third’s windows are fully covered, like a photo studio’s darkroom.
The sign is black with white text, starkly simple compared to the flashy neon signs of nearby shops, almost solemn.
“Silver Lady Hall…”
Cola tilts her head, muttering.
“Name sounds familiar…”
Before she can think, a tall, lean man with a scar on his face bumps open the glass door.
His tight suit hints at solid muscles underneath.
Spotting Cola, he freezes, eyes widening, then casually glances around, strolls past her, and mutters as if to himself, “Boss Cola, not the place to talk. Come to the underground café.”
When she turns, he’s gone.
She looks up at the unlit sign, smacking her lips.
“Japan’s too damn small… running into them again? He said underground café…”
Her gaze shifts to a signboard.
“‘Falling Flower Café’—that’s gotta be the job!”

(Part Three)

Cola triple-checks the café’s name—it matches the listing exactly.
She pictured a bright, airy place, not something underground.
Basements always scream yakuza vibes, making the narrow staircase feel dark and ominous.
Cloudy skies above don’t help, and she hesitates.
But her vampire strength bolsters her confidence.
“No matter what, I can escape… such a high-paying job’s worth checking out.”
Money lures her down the steps to a graffiti-covered door, reminiscent of Qingguo’s bars.
She visited one right after turning 18—lame, just garish lights and drunk people spouting cheesy lines or groping.
Even with money, she’d never go back—hooking up’s not worth risking STDs.
Bracing for anything, she pushes open the heavy wooden door.
No chaotic lights or darkness inside.
It’s brightly lit, orderly, with a ceiling of sky-mimicking panels, almost like standing under a clear sky.
The tall, lean man waits at the entrance, turning at the sound of the door and bowing slightly.
“Boss Cola, you came. The new office is this way, please follow.”
“A yakuza-run café this wholesome? Weird.”
The man pauses, then chuckles.
“Boss, we just acquired this place… along with the hall upstairs. The sign went up today.”
“Oh… don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to be some ‘boss.’ Honestly, what year is it? Drop the yakuza stuff.”
“Actually, Silver Lady Group’s been expelled from the main syndicate. Those left have quit the yakuza life; we’re not technically yakuza anymore.”
He gives a wry smile, leading her to a narrow corner, opening a heavy door to a longer staircase.
“This is the back entrance to the upstairs office—less noticeable.”
“If this is about taking over some yakuza group, I’m out.”
Cola stops at the door.
“I’m just here for a part-time job.”
“Boss, you’re as free-spirited as ever…”
He laughs helplessly, lowering his voice.
“Whether you take over Silver Lady Group or not, I suggest you come upstairs. We found something you lost back then.”
Cola blinks, muttering inwardly, “Could it be… something the old man left behind…?”