Chapter 15: Another Strange Curse Has Been Added
Lucifer sat at the counter, her crimson eyes darting discreetly toward the other customers. She said nothing, choosing instead to observe this strange human realm she had impulsively decided to inhabit.
She discovered something very interesting: her smartphone—the one Ren had provided—refused to run out of power inside Ren's Shop. She had been binge-reading that terrible light novel for hours, yet the battery icon remained stubbornly at 100%.
Is this a spatial anomaly? Or does he generate electricity through sheer will?
Lucifer pondered the secrets of Ren's Restaurant while picking up another Eggplant Fritter (Hasami Age).
She took a bite.
Crunch.
The batter shattered, giving way to the soft, piping-hot eggplant and the savory, juice-filled meat patty inside.
"Mmm~"
Lucifer's thoughts about spatial magic and batteries were immediately cut off. The logic center of her brain shut down, replaced entirely by the pleasure center.
She now had only one thought in her mind: This thing called an eggplant fritter is so delicious! It's even better than the Tom Yum Soup I had for lunch!
Even though she was the Queen of Hell, the CEO of the Underworld, there was practically no delicious food in her domain. Hell was efficient, bureaucratic, and filled with pancakes made of despair and ash. This... this was vibrant. This was alive.
Lucifer's small foot, clad in a stylish boot, twitched uncontrollably under the counter in a happy rhythm. Realizing she was acting like a common imp, she forcibly held her leg down, regaining her regal composure, before reaching for another piece. She would never tire of this.
On the other side of the restaurant, at the main table, the atmosphere was heavier.
Nakiri Erina could say she finished all three of her eggplant fritters with great difficulty.
It wasn't because they were bad. It was because they were too good.
There was no helping it; her God Tongue was both a gift and a curse. It stripped away the surface layers of a dish and materialized the absolute essence of flavors. While a normal person tasted "yummy fried food," Erina tasted the soil the eggplant grew in, the exact fat-to-lean ratio of the beef, and the precise temperature of the oil.
Her resistance to the deliciousness was lower than an average person's, and the impact she received was exponentially greater. She was fighting a losing battle against her own biology.
Senzaemon Nakiri took a sip of his Peach Blossom Wine, his bare chest gleaming under the warm lights (having lost his clothes to the appetizer). He smiled knowingly and said, "How is it, Erina? This common dish you've never eaten before tastes pretty good, doesn't it! It has the warmth of a home."
Erina gritted her teeth, her pride warring with her palate. She looked at the empty plate, then at her grandfather.
"This dish has… no… flaws…" she admitted, the words tasting like defeat. "It is… acceptable."
The Old Man just smiled, satisfied with breaking her first layer of defense. Then, he turned his attention to his main course. He picked up a smoothly sliced piece of Salt-Grilled Pork.
It looked simple. Just pork, grilled. No sauce. Just a small mound of snow-white salt on the side of the plate.
He dipped the meat into the salt and put it into his mouth.
Chew.
His eyes suddenly widened. The flavor exploded. It wasn't just salty; it was floral, oceanic, and incredibly delicate.
At this moment, Ren walked out of the kitchen. He was carrying a tray with a plate of Salt-Grilled Pork Chops identical to Senzaemon Nakiri's, intended for Erina, along with a steaming clay pot for the soup course.
The clay pot was covered, masking its contents, but the aroma leaking from the vent hole was refreshing and spicy.
Senzaemon Nakiri called out to Ren, stopping him in his tracks.
"Ren! This salt of yours…" The Director's voice was serious.
Ren tilted his head, asking in confusion, "Is there a problem? I think this salt is the best match for grilled meat. It doesn't overpower the natural sweetness of the fat."
Erina, seeing her grandfather's serious expression, immediately assumed the worst. Aha! she thought. He used cheap table salt! Grandfather caught him!
She frowned and was about to speak, ready to lecture Ren on the importance of seasoning, when she heard Senzaemon Nakiri continue with a broad smile.
"Of course it's suitable! Nothing could be more suitable! But it's my first time seeing someone choose Fleur de Sel for a simple dish like Salt-Grilled Pork Chops! You are using a diamond to cut glass!"
The sound wasn't very loud, but in the quiet restaurant, everyone heard it.
If others didn't know what Fleur de Sel was, would Erina and Hisako not know?
Bam!
Erina stood up directly, her chair screeching against the floor. She looked at the salt on her grandfather's plate in disbelief.
"Grandpa! What did you say?!" she exclaimed, losing her composure. "Fleur de Sel?! That 'Flower of Salt'?! One of the most expensive and precious salts in the world?!"
Senzaemon Nakiri smiled and nodded. "Indeed. The caviar of salts. Harvested by hand in France. Its moisture content and crystal structure are unique."
Erina froze. She looked at Ren, who was calmly placing her plate down.
It was then that Erina truly understood what Ren meant by his earlier statement that "Wagyu beef and Bluefin tuna were not considered precious ingredients here."
It wasn't arrogance. It was perspective.
If he used Fleur de Sel—a finishing salt used sparingly in 3-star Michelin restaurants—to season a simple pork chop... then to him, luxury was the baseline.
What kind of monster is he? Erina thought, sitting back down slowly. He treats treasure like dirt.
Ren ignored the shock. He walked into the kitchen, took out two bowls of white rice and two empty soup bowls, and walked over to the counter. He sat down opposite Lucifer.
Lucifer was stunned. She blinked her long, white eyelashes. "I thought you didn't need to eat~ You said you were the owner."
Ren looked at Lucifer strangely and said, "Of course I need to eat too. I'm human, mostly. Let's not talk about those things for now. Let's eat first. Otherwise, I'm afraid the curse will take effect again."
"Curse?!"
This time, everyone except Senzaemon and Saitama (who was happily chewing pork), including Lucifer, was startled.
Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. Indeed, this man was not ordinary! He is under a curse? Is it a binding from a higher power?
She must find out what the curse was!
Thinking of this, Lucifer leaned in, looking at Ren intensely. She whispered, "What curse? Is it dangerous?"
Ren lifted the lid of the clay pot.
"We're having this for dinner, Lucy. Sichuan Boiled Fish with Pickled Greens (Suan Cai Yu)."
"Suan Cai Yu? What's that?"
Erina's mouth twitched at the table nearby. Another commoner dish. Pickled cabbage fish? It sounded rustic and unrefined. She felt like she was being driven crazy by Ren's oscillation between extreme luxury (Fleur de Sel) and extreme simplicity.
Ren scooped a bowl for Lucifer with a spoon, and one for himself.
As the spoon stirred the soup, a faint, complex aroma wafted out. It was sour, spicy, fresh, and savory all at once. The smell of the fermented greens activated the salivary glands instantly.
Lucifer was drawn in. She looked at the pure white fish fillets floating in the golden broth, accompanied by translucent slices of pork belly he had added for extra richness. The texture looked like marble.
Lucifer admitted she was drooling. "It smells... divine. For a Hell Queen."
Ren smiled. He picked up his chopsticks.
"Itadakimasu."
Just as Ren's chopsticks touched the fish...
Ding-a-ling.
The front door was pulled open.
Ren froze. His chopsticks hovered in mid-air. He sighed, a sound of deep, cosmic resignation.
He had no choice but to put down his chopsticks.
Senzaemon Nakiri, who was dipping beef into his Sukiyaki, laughed heartily. "Hahaha! It never fails! The timing is absolute!"
Saitama also couldn't help but laugh out loud, covering his mouth. "Poor Ren. Every single time."
Erina and Hisako were stunned. They looked at the door, then at Ren, then at the newcomer.
A black-haired girl walked in. She wore a trendy headband and an expensive school uniform, but her expression was one of utter dejection. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked out into the rain.
The girl was also startled by the laughter. She looked down at herself, checking if her buttons were undone, found nothing wrong, and then looked at Senzaemon and the others with faint displeasure.
"Grandpa... what are you laughing at? Is my misery funny?" she muttered, mistaking Senzaemon for a generic old man.
Senzaemon Nakiri wiped a tear from his eye. "No, no, young miss. We are laughing because Ren's curse has taken effect, of course~"
Lucifer looked at Ren with a puzzled expression.
Ren sighed again, standing up. "Lucifer, you eat first~ The fish gets rubbery if it sits. I didn't expect the curse to actually trigger this fast…"
"So what is the curse?" Lucifer demanded, fork in hand.
Hearing Lucifer's question, everyone looked at Ren, including the sad girl at the door.
Ren rubbed the back of his neck and said somewhat helplessly, "It's the 'Curse of the Hungry Customer.' When I run the shop, if I don't eat, no customers come. It can be empty for hours. But as long as I prepare food for myself, the exact moment I am about to take the first bite, a customer will arrive. It has a 100% success rate."
Lucifer's lips curved into a smirk.
So that was the so-called curse. Truly unexpected~ And oddly specific.
The girl at the door also gave an awkward smile, realizing she was the cause of the interruption. "Ah... sorry. I just... saw the light."
Ren put on his professional smile. "It's fine. It keeps business booming. Please feel free to find a seat. What would you like to eat?"
The girl saw the warm, non-judgmental smile on Ren's face, and her awkwardness disappeared. The heavy atmosphere around her lightened slightly.
After finding a seat near the window, staring out at the dark alley, she slumped onto the table.
Ren walked over to her. She looked at him, and he looked at her.
Silence stretched.
After a long while, the girl frowned and said, "Sir, staring at a woman like that is very rude! I'm not a display item! Please give me the menu!"
Ren tilted his head and delivered his standard line. "My shop doesn't have a menu. I can make whatever you want to eat."
The girl was stunned. She took a deep breath. "What a strange shop. Fine."
She tapped her chin, her eyes unfocused. "Then I'll have… a Green Papaya Salad (Som Tum), a Beef Stew, a Grilled Meat Roll... just heavy, flavorful stuff."
She paused, slamming her hand on the table. "And finally, do you have any alcohol here?"
"Anything."
"Heh… Good. Give me the strongest one! I want to forget my name!"
Ren was startled. He looked at her closely. She was young, wealthy, but clearly heartbroken.
"You… seem to really want to get drunk?"
The girl said nothing, biting her lip.
Ren smiled gently and said, "If it's to get drunk to escape sorrow, then you should choose a tastier wine. If you drink industrial-strength spirits, you might harm your body and wake up feeling worse than you do now. I recommend a vintage Osmanthus Wine. It's strong, but sweet and comforting."
A flicker of surprise crossed the girl's eyes. She looked at Ren, seeing genuine concern.
"...Fine. Whatever you say, Shopkeeper."
"Please wait a moment~"
Erina narrowed her eyes as she watched Ren walk back to the kitchen.
She physiologically approved of Ren's actions just now—a chef should care about the diner's wellbeing—and he gained a lot of impression points in her book. But psychologically, she had reservations. She had never seen a chef deny a customer's order to suggest something 'better' without being asked. It was arrogant, yet... kind.
Lucifer smiled, took a sip of her fish soup, narrowed her eyes in delight, then put down her spoon.
She didn't eat anymore. She decided to sit there quietly and wait for Ren to finish serving so they could eat together. It felt... right.
Erina turned back to look at her food.
At this moment, Hisako was already slumped in her chair, looking like she was drunk, intoxicated by the sheer umami of the Bonito Chazuke.
Senzaemon Nakiri was humming a tune, grilling another slice of pork.
Erina looked at the main dish in front of her—the Seven-Minute Wagyu Beef Steak.
The searing was a perfect dark brown crust. The inside, visible from the side, was a consistent, luscious pink.
And there it was again. That touch of white salt grains on top of the Wagyu beef.
If her guess was correct, that was also Fleur de Sel.
The texture was indeed A5 Wagyu; the marbling pattern was visible even after cooking, a testament to the meat's quality.
Erina breathed a sigh of relief. At least he isn't lying about the main ingredients.
She picked up her knife and fork. She cut off a small piece. The knife slid through the meat like it was cutting butter. There was zero resistance.
She put it into her mouth.
Melt.
Clang…
The fork dropped from her hand onto the plate.
Erina again slumped onto the table, burying her face in her arms.
This time, she was practically stimulated by the intense pleasure brought by her God Tongue to the point of her brain going numb.
The rich, buttery fat of the Wagyu coated her tongue. The crust provided a smoky contrast. And then, the Fleur de Sel crystals crunched, releasing tiny bursts of oceanic salinity that cut through the fat perfectly, elevating the beef to a spiritual experience.
It wasn't just food. It was art.
She had only one thought in her mind: One more bite!
Keep eating!
I could eat this dish until I die.
[Akarin's Note: The new arrival is Sonoko Suzuki from Detective Conan. She is the heiress to the Suzuki plutocracy and often suffers from bad luck in romance.]
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