Shutout to Chaos for becoming a patron!
The checkpoint hummed like usual. The runic lamps still burned low along the walls, their light pooling warm on tabletops and catching on drifting motes of ash like dull gold. Outside, Tempest's street noises had softened into evening. Footsteps, distant voices, the occasional cart wheel, while inside the restaurant the rhythm tried to reassert itself: cups clinking, plates sliding, someone laughing too loudly and then swallowing it back.
It wasn't calm. Not really. It was the kind of quiet room adopted after violence, when everyone pretended they were fine so the place itself didn't fall apart from the tension.
Ludwig felt all of it at once: the restaurant's bruised pride, the staff's forced composure, the patrons' watchful silence, the lingering footprints of chakra and ash fading from the rafters.
He exhaled and did what he always did when the world tried to turn his place into a battlefield.
He went to work.
"Vilera." He called, voice low.
She appeared behind the bar a heartbeat later, as if she'd been standing there waiting for the call. Her smile was professional; her eyes were sharp, tired, and protective.
"Chef." She answered.
"Kitchen." Ludwig said. "Staff only. Now."
"Understood." Vilera walked away from the office, calling his other employees from the dining area.
Looking at her back, Ludwig let his mind wander to the negotiation he just had. He knew that what he just negotiated with Hiruzen would not satisfy everyone. The restaurant could be coaxed, he was sure of it. But Claire and Rimuru? They might point their fingers at him and scold him.
Ludwig let out a long sigh. Be as it may, he didn't even regret having a negotiation with Hiruzen beforehand. Why? Because if the first meeting was given to Claire, she might even have asked for Jutsu from Scroll of Seals.
With him having a prior meeting with Hiruzen, he had set a boundary. Though, he must also attend the next meeting to make sure everything was not too much. Else, it wouldn't be just altering Konoha's trajectory but destroying them outright.
Ludwig scratched his head quite strongly. What he wanted after the war was just serving people some food and offering some respite. Yet as of now, he had done two big negotiations. Once with the dwarves regarding Imelda's hunger for power, and the second one was because Konoha couldn't keep their greedy hands out of his restaurant.
And maybe… He was going to his third meeting soon. Scratch that, the third and the fourth. He still had to go to the demon settlement to send them to Tempest.
Before long, five demonic waiters of Checkpoint appeared inside the kitchen, All with the same calm facade on top of their shaking core. Except for one, the biggest of them all.
Sweeping through each one of them with his eyes, Ludwig opened his mouth. "I'm sorry."
The words weren't dramatic. Just an apology that landed heavier because he didn't try to soften it. A few of the staff blinked, surprised. One demon girl's shoulders trembled once and then steadied.
Valerie didn't move.
"I know I have told you the possibility before I leave. But I never thought it would be this big." Ludwig explained in the same tone as before.
He really didn't expect things to be like this. At most, a few ANBUs and maybe ROOTs come to his restaurant demanding something before going berserk. With how strong Kyrian and Trian were according to Claire, he believed no matter how strong the operatives sent by Hokage, they would be able to subdue them before things went south.
Yet, the attack was led by the Hokage himself and the three Sannins. That was like they were trying to end the war in one decisive battle. An overkill for just his restaurant without him.
But it seemed like the worries the Hokage had regarding Kushina as well as the allure of the potions were enough to make him act out of his usual character.
Finka swallowed at that moment. "Chef… are they coming back?"
"No." Ludwig said immediately. Then he added, firm enough to make it real, "Not in that manner."
Valerie pushed off the counter a fraction. "They tried to take Vilera. They tried to take me. Like we were equipment."
"I know." Ludwig replied.
The silence after that was sharper than any shout.
"And what now?" Valerie asked. "You make a deal and hope they behave?"
Ludwig met her gaze. "I set rules and make sure the consequences hurt. Hope doesn't run this place."
He looked around at all of them.
"This restaurant is not a resource." Ludwig said. "Not a prize. Not a tool. It's a place offering respite and warm food. Which means your safety is not negotiable. Ever."
Vilera's expression softened by a hair.
"And because it's not negotiable." Ludwig added, "We're changing procedure."
He lifted his hand and counted with his fingers.
"If I am not here and the door opens and the group entering is armed and masked, service stops. No one approaches them alone. No one leaves the bar area without Vilera's call. Whoever was in charge from either Shadow Hand and Tempest at that time had absolute authority over you. If they say evacuate, you evacuate."
Heads nodded, quick, grateful nods. Rules were a lifeline.
"Now, let's talk about your compensation." Ludwig said in a lighter note.
Face turned to him, eyes opened.
"Hazard pay for everyone on shift. Double. I don't take no. Anyone who doesn't think they can continue because of this attack could either quit or take a break, I'll allow that much."
Silence fell. Nobody moved or talked.
It wasn't a refusal. It was the kind of stillness that came when people were trying to decide whether they were allowed to believe something good would happen after something bad.
Then Bilo, the chef of the night, let out a shaky breath.
"Chef… double?" He asked, like the words themselves were suspicious. "Even though the restaurant is… like this?"
Ludwig's gaze slid briefly past them, as if he could see through the kitchen door and into the dining room. He could. Not with his eyes, but with the bond. The warped ridge in the floor felt like a splinter under his skin.
"Especially because the restaurant is like this," Ludwig said. "This isn't a normal night. You don't get paid normal wages for surviving abnormal nights."
Vilera's posture eased a fraction. The calm facade stayed, but it didn't look quite as brittle.
Valerie still didn't sit. Her eyes remained hard, but the anger wasn't as sharp as before, more focused now, like a blade being honed instead of swung wildly.
"But Boss." She said. "If we take a week off, will you still open the restaurant?"
"I will." Ludwig nodded. "This place exists because the door opens. If I close it out of fear, then Konoha wins without ever stepping back in. They turn the idea of Checkpoint into a weapon just by existing."
He leaned back against the prep table, arms folding loosely. Not defensive. Grounding.
"We keep it open." Ludwig said. "But we keep it smart."
He looked at Vilera. "From this point on, I want you to add fighting inside was prohibited. Else the situation called for it. And also add, their safety is guaranteed here."
"Understood." Vilera nodded before looking at her twin sister who smiled sheepishly.
"Keep the kitchen defended also. I'll probably have to call someone to do it for me. But," Ludwig stopped. "
"If anything feels off, you close service and you call it. No debate. No trying to be polite."
Valerie's eyes narrowed. "Even if they complain?"
"Especially if they complain." Ludwig said. "If someone's welcome here, they'll respect the rules. If they don't respect the rules, I don't care if they're a king or a god, they can drink somewhere else."
Vilera's lips twitched faintly at that. Approval, restrained.
"Good. Once again, sorry for what happened." Ludwig said. "But hey, I prefer Konoha attacking rather than whatever higher power walked into that door later on."
Those words of his earned few nervous chuckles from the 5 employees of his.
"Something stronger than you, boss?" Valerie asked.
"Probably." Ludwig shrugged. "But let's hope the restaurant is strong enough, yeah?"
The restaurant hummed at his words, making Ludwig chuckle.
"Now, let's get back to business before anyone riot the second time today." Ludwig walked away from the kitchen.
The shift in sound hit him first. Voices lowering when they noticed him, chairs scraping as people straightened, the subtle clink of cups pausing mid-motion. Not fear exactly. More like attention. Like the room was waiting to see what kind of man walked out of the kitchen after a battle had been fought on his floor.
Ludwig walked slowly along the warped ridge in the floor, carefully placing his boots in each and every step. He let his gaze sweep the room as he moved: goblins on improvised benches, orcs with shoulders too squared, a dragonewt near the door still doing his periodic shoulder roll like he expected another squad to crash through, and four people with shadowed cloaks standing around Kyrian and Trian.
Some regulars lifted their mugs toward him without speaking. A few newer faces watched him like he was part of the day's entertainment.
He wasn't.
He stopped near the biggest cluster of Tempest patrons, a mix of goblins and orcs that were seated around a table that was still standing mostly because someone had jammed a spare board under one leg.
"Everyone." Ludwig said, voice carrying without effort. Not shouting. Just speaking like the owner who knew his room would listen. "A moment."
Conversation died down in gentle waves.
He looked at the crowd and gave a small, honest bow.
"Thank you." He said.
A few of them blinked in confusion. But Ludwig kept going.
"Thank you for not panicking. For not trampling my staff in the rush. For not turning a bad situation into a massacre."
His gaze flicked, briefly, toward the cracked beam and the scorched boards. "And for defending this place. I heard you stood up. That you listened when my people told you to move back."
A goblin, one Ludwig recognized from half a dozen late-night orders, scratched his cheek. "We… just didn't want 'em taking your waitresses, boss."
An orc grunted in agreement. "Checkpoint feeds us. We defend what feeds us!"
A few approving murmurs rippled through the room.
Ludwig nodded once. "Exactly."
He straightened and let his eyes travel across the tables. "I know tonight wasn't what you came here for. No one comes to a restaurant to watch soldiers try to drag staff out by the wrists."
A few patrons' expressions tightened at the reminder.
"So." Ludwig continued, tone easing, "Everything on the house for anyone who was here when it happened. Of course within reason."
That got an immediate reaction, some surprised laughter, a couple of relieved sighs, one goblin nearly choking on his ale.
"And…" Ludwig added, "If anyone was hurt. Bruises, burns, or anything. Tell Vilera. If you need something stronger than a bandage, you tell me."
The Dragonewt raised a hand halfway. "My shoulder's just sore."
"Tell Vilera anyway." Ludwig said. "Sore shoulders become stupid injuries when ignored."
The lizardman chuckled dryly and nodded.
Ludwig stepped closer to the table where Lee Han sat with Tempest folk, his posture still casual but his eyes sharp.
"You too." Ludwig said.
Lee Han lifted his cup slightly. "Didn't do much."
"I heard you kept a few operatives by yourself." Ludwig replied. "That counts."
Lee Han's mouth twitched. "Better than getting a punch in the face. Not like I would feel it."
"Exactly," Ludwig said dryly, and a few chuckles scattered nearby.
He continued his slow walk, letting the room settle again. He didn't want to turn this into a speech. He wanted to stitch the Restaurant back into what it was: a place where people ate, argued, laughed, and left their wars at the door.
He stopped near the bar and looked at Vilera, who was already moving with that practiced demon grace. Refilling cups, setting down plates, her voice steady even if her eyes still held exhaustion.
Behind her, Valerie paused mid-wipe. For the first time since he'd returned, her shoulders loosened, just slightly.
Ludwig turned away before she could catch him noticing.
He moved past the warped ridge toward the corner where Hiruzen sat, but stopped short. Close enough that the Hokage could see him, far enough that it didn't look like Ludwig was resuming negotiations in front of the room.
Hiruzen met his eyes over the rim of his untouched tea.
Ludwig didn't speak. He didn't need to. The message was simple: You see what this place is. You see who you threatened.
Hiruzen's gaze flicked, once, across the dining room—the patrons, the staff, the damage—and his eyes returned to Ludwig with something quieter than pride.
A brief, shallow dip of his head.
Acknowledgement.
Ludwig gave a single nod back. Then he turned away.
He headed for the middle of the room again, intent on checking tables, calming the flow, making sure no one was about to pick a fight simply because they could finally breathe again.
That was when the restaurant hummed. Not the bruised thrum it had held all evening. This was different. Sharper, cleaner. And most important of all, it showed familiarity.
Ludwig froze for half a heartbeat, senses sliding outward through the bond.
On the door, he could feel two presences. One carried heat and disciplined force, like a blade left near a forge. In the meantime, the other was quieter. Cold and smooth like a shadow that chose when to be seen.
Ludwig exhaled slowly.
"Of course." He murmured.
The Restaurant hummed again, like it was announcing arrivals it expected him to greet.
So, Ludwig started walking toward the door.
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