Chapter 1

"Why are you a man?!"

I’m Yūya Aiba, just another cog in the machine at a soul-crushing black company. On my way home one night, just as the date was about to flip, I found a silver-haired boy collapsed face-down on the sidewalk. And the very first thing out of his mouth was that.

His silver hair gleamed under the streetlight. His jade-green eyes shone with an eerie clarity. His face was so perfect it looked sculpted—like some kind of doll. Probably fifteen or sixteen. Around 170 centimeters tall, I’d guess. He wore these aristocratic-looking clothes, the kind you only ever see in manga. Something about him felt… noble, I guess?

Still, I’ve got no clue what his problem is. Why’s he chewing me out over my gender? Does he hate men or something? Whatever it is, he’s looking at me like I just ruined his life.

“I finally found magic that resonates with me... it felt perfect... you were perfect... Why’d it have to be like this!?”

He started muttering to himself, and then—out of nowhere—just snapped. Great. I’d picked up a total nutjob. Maybe I should just call an ambulance and get the hell out of here.

“No matter. I’ll just change it.”

Change what, exactly? I’m tired, man. Too tired for this. I haven’t slept in two days. I just want to go home and pass out.

“…Well, since you appear uninjured, I’ll be on my way now.”

Let’s just chalk this up to getting metaphorically bitten by a stray dog and move on.

I turned to leave—

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home? My own home?”

“What are you talking about? Your place is right here—by my side.”

“…Excuse me?”

What the hell is he on about? Is he seriously insane?

“What’s your name?”

“Yūya Aiba…”

“Got it. From now on, your name is Yuka. Sound good? Yuka.”

“Huh? Uh… sure…”

A nickname? Out of nowhere? This guy’s way too familiar. Well, not like I’ll ever see him again, so whatever.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Reverse it.”

In that instant, a blinding light swallowed me whole.

It lasted maybe ten seconds.

When I opened my eyes again, the silver-haired boy was still standing there, just like before. What the hell was that? Some kind of magic trick?

Then I noticed something felt… off.

First, my field of vision. The boy, who’d been about the same height as me before, now seemed much taller. Then there was my own body—something was clearly different. For one, my chest felt tight. Really tight. On the other hand, the rest of my clothes were now hanging loosely, like I was wearing someone else’s shirt. I’d bought this outfit to fit me exactly, but now it felt way too big.

“…What is this?”

Was that… my voice? It was higher. Definitely higher. While I was still trying to wrap my head around what was happening, the boy gave a satisfied nod.

“Huh. I thought you were plain and drab, but now that you’ve changed, you actually look pretty good. Next up—clothes.”

He snapped his fingers. Again, something changed. My clothes shimmered with light, and when the glow faded—

“My clothes… wait, what the hell is this!?”

“Need a mirror? I’ll make you one.”

Another snap. A mirror materialized out of thin air.

Wait—what? That’s actual magic? Real magic??

And then—

“Who is that!?”

The reflection in the mirror wasn’t anyone I recognized. Or rather, it kind of was. It looked like a woman—one who looked a lot like me.

Black, semi-long hair. Soft, downturned eyes. About 160 centimeters tall. A figure with all the curves in all the right places. And most importantly—

“…A maid?”

I looked like I’d stepped straight out of a maid café. The outfit was suspiciously close to one of those mini-skirt sets they sell at that kind of store. Why was the chest so exposed? Why was the skirt so short? I could almost see my own underwear.

If this were someone else, I probably would’ve snuck a glance.

But this wasn’t someone else. This woman was—

“…Me?”

No. No way. I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it. What the hell was going on?

“Do you like it, Yuka? It’s my gift to you.”

He looked so smug. That insufferable, self-satisfied grin—I wanted to punch it.

…Could he really be the one behind this?

“Um, who are you, exactly…?”

“I am Albert Ronde Belgand. Heir to the Demon Lord throne.”

“And you, Yuka—you are now my maid.”

And so began my hellish acquaintance with Albert, a self-proclaimed “future Demon King” who looked about as threatening as a spoiled rich kid throwing a tantrum.