Chapter 17: Chiye’s Struggle to Survive

“Here we are,” Chiye said, pointing to a nondescript wooden building tucked away in a remote corner of the academy.

Ian followed her gesture, his eyes landing on a simple, unadorned structure.

The restaurant stood alone, with no competing establishments nearby.

By all logic, a place without rivals should have been thriving.

Yet, even during peak dining hours, it was eerily quiet.

Peering through the window, Ian spotted only two patrons inside, their presence barely disturbing the stillness.

According to Chiye, her roommate was eating here too, which made Ian wonder if those two were also lured here by her.

Could it be that no one found this place on their own?

The absurdity of a restaurant existing in such an isolated spot was almost as jarring as if Aetherina suddenly appeared beside him, accusing him of stealing her pearl.

“This place is too quiet,” Flora said, her expression grave as she studied the restaurant. “Do you really think the demon would come here?”

Ian’s dark eyes fixed on Chiye, his gaze sharp, as if trying to see through her.

“How did you even find such a secluded place?”

The surrounding area was deserted, not a soul in sight.

The restaurant felt like it existed outside the world, invisible to the average passerby.

“You’re asking how I found it?” Chiye paused, her lips pursed before she answered. “It’s my mother’s restaurant.”

The pieces clicked into place for Ian.

No wonder Chiye had brought them here with such enthusiasm—it was her family’s business.

He glanced at her, then back at the ramshackle, empty restaurant.

For the first time, he noticed how thin Chiye was, her frame almost frail beneath her boyish disguise.

Her mother ran a restaurant, yet Chiye looked underfed.

Shouldn’t the daughter of a restaurateur be, at the very least, well-nourished?

A nagging thought crept into Ian’s mind: What if her mother’s cooking is so bad it drives customers away?

He hesitated, then asked, “Chiye, I’ve got a question, but I’m not sure if I should ask.”

Chiye gave him a warm, open smile.

“Go ahead. If I know the answer, I’ll tell you.”

Ian’s gaze lingered on her slight frame, his tone serious.

“You’re so thin—does your mother’s cooking actually taste good? Can this place even make money?”

Chiye tilted her head, her expression clouding as if recalling an unpleasant memory.

“Taste good? I’d say it probably won’t kill you.” She paused, her voice tinged with unease. “If I remember right, my mother’s lost about two thousand gold coins running this place.”

Two thousand gold coins?

Ian’s jaw nearly dropped.

That was a fortune.

To earn that much, he’d have to work for Lillian for thirty-three years without spending a coin, or serve as Veronica’s butler for fifty-five.

The fact that this restaurant was still open after such losses was staggering.

And “won’t kill you” as a description of the food?

That sounded more like a critique of a failed poison than a culinary endorsement.

“Maybe we shouldn’t eat here,” Ian said, his unease growing. “If it’s lost that much money, why keep it open?”

“It’s my mother’s passion,” Chiye explained. “She says the restaurant holds sentimental value, so she doesn’t care about the losses.”

“Is your family wealthy, then?” Ian asked.

“Wealthy? Not really. It’s my mother’s savings keeping this place afloat.”

“Then how do you get by?” Ian pressed.

He knew the academy’s tuition and housing fees were exorbitant.

Veronica had covered his costs before, and now Lillian’s generous payments kept him afloat.

But Chiye?

She was just a student council errand-runner, likely unpaid.

“I work odd jobs to cover my expenses,” Chiye said matter-of-factly.

Ian blinked.

Chiye was supporting herself through part-time jobs?

That was a blind spot for him.

Veronica’s wealth and Lillian’s high pay were lavish compared to most, yet even Ian, serving two noble heiresses, barely matched what Chiye earned through sheer hustle.

Looking at her delicate frame and refined features, even disguised as a boy, Ian’s mind wandered to darker possibilities.

She wouldn’t be working in some shady place, would she?

Her fluffy fox tail might attract the wrong kind of attention.

If Aetherina, one of her key love interests, found out Chiye was involved in something disreputable, the fallout could be catastrophic.

Ian pictured Aetherina storming into some seedy establishment, tearing it apart in a rage—or worse, grappling with the betrayal.

To steer Chiye away from any potential missteps—and to spare Aetherina the pain of a metaphorical green hat—Ian adopted a solemn tone.

“Chiye, you’re not doing anything… improper, are you?”

“Improper?” Chiye shook her head, her expression startled. “No! All my jobs are academy-approved.”

Academy-approved?

That reassured Ian somewhat.

Saint Laurent Magic Academy wouldn’t tolerate unsavory businesses tainting its reputation.

If Chiye’s work was legitimate, maybe he’d been overthinking it.

An idea sparked.

If he could learn about her jobs, maybe he could take on similar work to pay off his debts faster and support the orphanage.

“What kind of jobs do you do?” he asked.

Chiye counted on her fingers.

“Campus security patrols, street cleaning, waiting tables at other restaurants, handing out flyers on weekends…”

Ian’s head spun.

Is that even humanly possible?

Well, Chiye wasn’t human, but even for a fox clan member, that workload was absurd.

“Which job pays the best?” he asked, figuring she’d have insight into the local job market.

“The highest-paying one?” Chiye pondered, then brightened. “Working at the maid café.”

She caught herself, eyes widening as she remembered her disguise.

“I mean, sweeping floors at the maid café!”

Ian wasn’t fooled.

Her hasty correction screamed cover-up for her cross-dressing persona.

But a maid café?

That was out of the question for him.

What, am I supposed to dress up as a maid?

Or drag out my Ian persona?

High pay seemed forever out of reach.

Chiye, sensing his scrutiny, shifted the conversation.

“Enough about that—let’s head inside.”

Ian’s unease spiked.

“Is this place really safe to eat at?”

Flora, who’d been silent, suddenly interjected, her eyes narrowing.

“Ian, what are you talking about? We’re here to find the demon, not to eat