Chapter 37: Consecutive Guests
After Nanami Minami left the shop with a satisfied smile, the bell chiming softly behind her, the Restaurant fell into a momentary, comfortable quiet. The dust motes danced in the beams of morning sunlight that pierced through the windows.
Ren walked to the table she had occupied, picked up the money, and efficiently organized the plates. He looked at the empty dumpling plate—not a drop of sauce left—and smiled.
"She's really a lively child," Ren remarked, wiping the table with a rhythmic circular motion. "Full of energy. It's truly nice to see someone so optimistic in the morning. It clears the gloomy atmosphere left by the rain."
Lucifer sat back in her chair at the counter. Her face was still slightly pink from the "Little Kitten" comment earlier, but she forced herself to regain her regal composure. She crossed her legs elegantly, the fabric of her trousers rustling, and looked at Ren with a hint of amusement in her crimson eyes.
"You really do rely purely on repeat customers~" she teased, tapping her chin. "Your business model is baffling to me. No advertisements, a hidden location that defies geography, and opening hours that depend on your mood. If this were a business in Hell, you'd be bankrupt and fed to the Soul Eaters within a week."
Ren thought for a moment, pausing his cleaning. "Eh? It seems you're right. I generally do rely entirely on repeat customers and fate."
He turned to her, leaning against the counter with a confident smirk. "But honestly, anyone who comes here will become a repeat customer~ The food speaks louder than any billboard. Once they taste it, their stomach belongs to me."
Lucifer was startled by his arrogance, but then she smiled without speaking. She couldn't deny it; she was living proof. She, the Queen of Hell, was currently refusing to leave because the food was too good.
Ren stretched his arms overhead, his spine cracking satisfyingly. "Hmm~ Looks like I can close up shop today and get some sleep… Eh?"
He stopped mid-stretch, sensing a disturbance in the air pressure.
"Why are there so many daytime customers today? Is the dimensional barrier thinning?"
No sooner had he spoken than the door handle turned with a heavy, decisive metallic click.
Thud.
The door opened, and a sturdy man walked in.
He was carrying a worn, travel-stained duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He wore a simple, slightly wrinkled black short-sleeved shirt that revealed muscular, tanned arms marked by faint burn scars—the tell-tale branding of a veteran chef who has stood before the fires of hellish kitchens.
Although he looked like a middle-aged uncle with his scruffy beard and tired eyes, his demeanor was razor-sharp. It was definitely incomparable to those pretentious youngsters or ordinary people; he walked with the silent, heavy weight of a master who had conquered his field.
"Hmm. There's actually a Restaurant here? In this back alley?" the man muttered, his voice raspy from disuse or perhaps fatigue. He scanned the room, his eyes lingering on the cleanliness. "How rare~"
Ren stood up and softly said, his professional mask sliding into place, "Welcome~ Is there anything you'd like to eat?"
The uncle looked around, taking in the spotless counter, the lack of grease in the air, and the absence of menus on the wall.
"Ho. This is a place where you can order anything?" he asked, a glint of dangerous interest igniting in his eyes. "What's available at this time? Do you have fresh stock, or is it leftovers from the night service?"
Hearing this question, Ren knew instantly that the person who had come was someone with immense fame and strength in the culinary world. Only a chef asks about stock availability and "prep" status before ordering. This man knew the trade.
Ren thought for a moment and said calmly, "At this time, anything can be made. My ingredients are timeless. But for breakfast after a long journey—I assume you just landed from overseas based on your bag?—you probably wouldn't want anything too greasy or heavy on the stomach~"
The man nodded, impressed by the observation. A faint smile touched his lips. "Sharp eyes, kid. In that case, give me a bowl of Ramen. I want something that tastes like Japan. Rich ingredients, but a broth that won't weigh me down. I've been on a plane all night. I'm almost dead tired."
Ren nodded. "Understood. Shio (Salt) Ramen with a clear chicken and dashi double-soup base. It will revive you."
He continued, "Do you need anything else? Just noodles might be lonely."
The man thought for a moment. "Fried food. But light. Tempura Shrimp and Perilla Spring Rolls, please~ I need the texture."
"Alright~"
"Oh, right. And a glass of water. Ice cold."
Ren nodded and returned to the kitchen. The man skillfully found a seat near the window, away from the other guests, and sat down. He dropped his bag with a heavy thud that shook the floor slightly. He looked at the simple wooden decor and smiled.
"Hmm. This is a rare clean and tidy Restaurant among such hole-in-the-wall establishments. It smells... pure. No stale oil."
Lucifer and Cerberus glanced at the man.
Cerberus, usually eager to sniff new people, stayed put. Her instincts were warning her. This human... he smells like a predator. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Lucifer narrowed her eyes. She sensed no magic, but the man's "presence" was suffocatingly strong. It was the aura of someone who had stood at the top of a mountain.
To distract herself, Lucifer expertly opened her new phone and started chatting in the group. She realized how interesting this device was after chatting with the guys last night. It was a window into other worlds.
Cerberus naturally leaned over to watch Lucifer chat, resting her chin on Lucifer's shoulder, her dog ears twitching. Her phone was upstairs, and she was too lazy to go get it, so she just leeched off Lucifer's screen~
Lucifer didn't avoid Cerberus, letting the dog-girl snoop.
Electronic Empress (Ritsu): "Are you all not sleeping?! What time is it over there?! My internal clock is screaming!"
Young Mistress of the Suzuki Zaibatsu (Sonoko): "Oh. Small problem, small problem. Your school is really relaxed~ We're also high school students, so why do we have to go to school now?! It's boring! I want to eat Ren's food!"
Electronic Empress (Ritsu): "What does that have to do with me?! Besides, isn't Kirari that idiot also not awake?!"
Call Me President (Kirari): "See the nickname? It's President. It's fine if I don't go to school; I make the rules. And don't compare me to that idiot Sonoko. I am calculating probabilities."
Hell CEO (Lucifer): "You all are really energetic… Speaking of which, why don't you all come in person? The breakfast service is ending soon."
World's Gourmet (Rindou): "About that... They are all very busy. There are really only a few relatively free ones like me who can skip class without consequences. By the way... Why isn't Cerberus speaking? Did she eat her phone?"
Hell CEO (Lucifer): "She's next to me, breathing on my neck. Her phone is in her room. Oh, right, do you know where Katagiri High School is? A customer just mentioned it."
When this question was asked, the entire group fell silent.
After a long while, Momobami Kirari, sitting in her aquarium-walled office, looked at her phone, sighed, and typed.
Call Me President (Kirari): "Of course I know. Everyone in the group who's still in school should know. Katagiri High School is just a normal high school, but its school spirit is very good. Surprisingly wholesome compared to mine."
Suzuki Sonoko's mouth twitched as she typed furiously from her classroom, hiding the phone under her desk.
Young Mistress of the Suzuki Zaibatsu (Sonoko): "Nonsense! Which school's spirit isn't better than your Hyakkaou Private Academy?! You guys gamble with life savings and fingernails! Katagiri High School is indeed considered upper-middle. Not great, but not bad either. The main thing is their uniforms are so nice! Much better looking than Kirari's red blazers~"
[Akarin's Note: Hyakkaou Private Academy is the setting of Kakegurui, a school obsessed with high-stakes gambling where students are ranked by their gambling prowess. Katagiri High School is the setting of the anime Horimiya, known for its slice-of-life romance and normal students.]
Momobami Kirari didn't refute this, because it was something the group had collectively discussed before, and they all thought the Hyakkaou uniforms looked like hotel staff uniforms…
Before Lucifer could speak, she saw Karura send a message.
Kure Karura: "Katagiri High School… I know someone there. The students at Katagiri High School are all very good. No assassins. No Kure members. Boring, but peaceful."
Lucifer nodded, thought for a moment, then replied with a message.
Hell CEO (Lucifer): "Is that so? That truly sounds like a nice place. Maybe I should visit for a field trip."
As soon as Lucifer sent the message, the kitchen curtain parted.
Ren emerged, balancing a tray with practiced ease.
He was carrying a large, steaming bowl of Shio Ramen. In his other hand was a plate with a golden-brown, crispy Tempura Shrimp and two Perilla Spring Rolls that looked incredibly appetizing. The oil glistened, promising a satisfying crunch.
The man's eyes lit up as he looked at the steaming ramen placed before him. It emanated the unique, savory aroma of chicken and seafood stock, a scent that triggered deep nostalgia.
The man smiled, his tired face transforming. "I truly didn't expect this ramen to exceed my expectations just by the smell~ Owner, you really surprised me. The clarity of the soup is remarkable; I can see the bottom of the bowl."
Ren smiled professionally and said, "It's alright. Please enjoy your meal. If you need anything, just call me. There are various seasonings on the side; you can add them according to your preference."
After speaking, Ren left him to eat, respecting the chef's ritual.
The man glanced at the condiments placed in small, aesthetically pleasing bottles nearby: Sea salt, white pepper, Yuzu Kosho (citrus chili paste), and aged vinegar.
[Akarin's Note: Yuzu Kosho is a Japanese condiment made from fresh chili peppers, salt, and the zest of yuzu citrus fruit. It adds a spicy, floral kick to dishes.]
The man took a deep breath, inhaling the steam. He picked up his chopsticks and fanned away the heat.
Finally, he saw the true appearance of the ramen: clear, translucent broth that shimmered like liquid gold. Every noodle was like white jade, folded neatly in the 'samurai fold' style. Two slices of Char Siu (Braised Pork Belly) rested quietly on top of the noodles, surrounded by chopped scallions, red ginger slivers, radish sprouts, a sheet of crisp seaweed, and a soft-boiled egg with a gooey center.
And something else. A white, toasted block floating in the soup.
"Oh... This is..." The man blinked, surprised. "Boss! Your noodles are really too abundant! There's even Mochi (Rice Cake)!"
[Akarin's Note: Mochi in ramen (often called Chikara Udon/Ramen) represents strength/power. It is a toasted rice cake added as a topping to make the dish more filling.]
Ren smiled from the counter, wiping a glass. "This rice cake has a little surprise inside. Just like ramen and fried rice, you're only truly satisfied when you get to eat everything you want in one bowl, aren't you? It adds texture and heartiness."
The man was stunned, then smiled broadly, a genuine laugh escaping him. "As expected of someone who can make such ramen. You understand the heart of a glutton. You understand that sometimes, we just want more. Well then, I'll dig in!"
The man rarely felt such anticipation for food—he was usually the one cooking it, analyzing it, deconstructing it. But looking at the ramen in front of him, he actually felt a sense of simple, childish expectation.
The man didn't eat the noodles first; instead, he picked up a ceramic spoon and scooped a mouthful from the tiny visible portion of the broth.
He blew on it gently.
Sip.
As the mouthful of noodle soup entered his mouth, time seemed to slow down.
There was only one word in the man's mind: Fresh!
Yes, it was fresh. He had never tasted such fresh noodle soup. It wasn't heavy with artificial flavors or excessive fat. It tasted like the essence of the ingredients themselves.
Just as the man was about to swallow, his eyes suddenly widened.
Fresh! The essence of free-range chicken and sea bream bones simmered for hours.
Fragrant! The scent of scallion oil and toasted sesame.
Spicy! A hint of white pepper that warmed the throat.
A subtle, barely detectable, appetizing Sourness from dried plums that you wouldn't taste without careful savoring!
The unique hint of oily richness from the noodle soup, the fresh aroma of vegetables—all burst forth at this moment.
"Hoo~"
Exhaling a puff of hot air, the man felt completely relaxed. His stiff shoulders dropped. Yet, he still had a moderate amount of energy returning to his tired body. He felt this was the best state he had been in while eating in a long time.
"Then... let's taste the texture of these ramen noodles~"
He picked up a bundle of noodles with his chopsticks. They held the broth perfectly.
"Mmm..."
Slurp.
As a mouthful of ramen entered his mouth, the astonishing elasticity—the perfect koshi (chewiness)—made the man feel the pure joy of eating ramen. They were firm, springy, and smooth, dancing on his tongue.
The man glanced at Ren, who was teasing Cerberus with a napkin nearby.
He was no longer surprised by the quality, because he felt that if he continued to be shocked by every element, he might not survive the meal. If the noodles were this good... what about the spring rolls?
He took a bite of the Perilla Spring Roll.
Crunch.
The sound echoed in his head. The aroma of the perilla leaf (shiso) mixed with the sweet shrimp filling was intoxicating.
This chef... he is dangerous, the man thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. He cooks with the freedom of a wandering demon.
[Akarin Note:
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