Chapter 47: Lucifer Crying from the Spice
[Akarin's Note: The Hell-level spicy in the shop adjusts its spiciness according to the eater's physique and taste. For normal humans, it's a death sentence. For demons, it attacks the soul.]
The quiet of the restaurant was punctuated only by the sizzling of the clay pot and the occasional contented sigh of the young tennis prodigy.
Shūsuke Fuji had just taken his first bite of the "Hell-level" Mapo Tofu. Just one spoonful made a fine sheen of sweat break out on his usually serene forehead, and his breathing became slightly rapid. His relatively fair face flushed a healthy, vibrant red, the capillaries reacting instantly to the assault of capsaicin.
"Hah..." Fuji exhaled, his eyes sparkling with an intense blue light that only appeared when he was truly serious or truly delighted. "This heat... it spreads through the veins."
Ren leaned over the counter, sliding a glass of the ginger-citrus drink closer to him. "Have some water—or rather, your special blend. I knew you'd be like this if you ordered Hell-level spicy, so I specially prepared this drink for you. It neutralizes the burn on the tongue but leaves the warmth in the stomach."
Fuji nodded gratefully. He held the ceramic spoon in one hand, savoring the aftertaste, and picked up the drink with the other. He took two large sips. The cooling, sweet-sour liquid washed over his palate, extinguishing the fire instantly. He completely recovered, his posture relaxing as if he had suddenly walked from a scorching desert into an air-conditioned oasis.
Fuji put down the cup, let out a long, satisfied sigh, and said, "Ren-san... Your Hell-level spicy is indeed more stimulating than anything I've found in Tokyo. It's been a long time since I've had such a challenging dish. It makes me feel alive."
Ren chuckled, walking around the counter to sit beside Cerberus, who was eyeing Fuji's red bowl with morbid curiosity.
"Because it has to live up to the word 'Hell,' doesn't it? If it doesn't make you question your life choices, it's not spicy enough," Ren joked. "But I wonder if Tezuka would have a strange reaction if he saw you eating this~. His face would probably remain stoic, but his glasses might fog up."
"Eh?" Fuji blinked, imagining the scene. He chuckled. "Tezuka probably eats light, right? After all, his grandfather is someone who pays great attention to health preservation and traditional discipline. Grilled fish and miso soup are more his style."
Fuji took another bite of the tofu, seemingly immune to the pain now. He chewed thoughtfully, then suddenly thought of something and turned to Ren.
"By the way, Ren-san, the Metropolitan Tournament is coming up soon. The preliminaries are starting. Do you want to go watch? We have some interesting opponents this year."
Ren thought for a moment, tapping his finger on the table. "The Metropolitan Tournament, huh? I'll go if I have time. Running a restaurant doesn't leave many weekends free. But..." He smiled. "If your Seigaku makes it to the National Tournament, even if I can't go to every match, I definitely won't miss the finals. I want to see you guys take the flag."
Fuji's smile widened, becoming genuine and warm. "That's your style. Tezuka will probably be very happy to hear that, since you two are also very good friends. He respects your dedication to your craft."
Ren smiled and said nothing. Fuji Shūsuke was Fuji Shūsuke after all; his inhuman sense of taste quickly allowed him to adapt to the spiciness. It was like watching someone play tennis—he adjusted his rhythm to match the opponent, in this case, the chili peppers.
Lucifer, who had been pretending to read on her phone, quietly paid attention to their conversation. She found this human interesting. He had a hidden depth, a sharpness behind the smile that reminded her of some of her more deceptive demons.
Fuji took another sip of his drink, exhaled a cloud of spicy breath, and said, "A new person has arrived recently at Seigaku. He's a first-year. He has a very interesting personality—quite arrogant—and good strength. Tezuka is quite concerned about this kid."
Ren was startled. He knew Tezuka wasn't easily impressed. "A kid who can make Tezuka concerned must be quite interesting. What's his name?"
"Echizen Ryoma~"
"Echizen Ryoma…" Ren repeated the name, testing the sound of it. "Echizen… That surname. What's his relationship with Echizen Nanjiro?"
Fuji was stunned. He paused with his spoon mid-air. Then, he hit his palm on the table lightly. "I really did forget about that possibility. The surname is rare, and his genius level is also possible. Maybe he really is a descendant of the Samurai. I didn't think that much until you mentioned it. That would explain his style..."
Ren pondered for a moment and said, "If that's the case, I should go watch that kid's match sooner rather than later. After all, Echizen Nanjiro's tennis skills were truly too amazing. He was a legend."
Fuji chuckled and said, "The only person you'd call amazing without hesitation is probably that Samurai. You have high standards, Ren-san."
Twenty minutes later.
The black clay pot was empty, save for a few streaks of red oil. The wasabi plate was clean.
"Phew. Thank you for the meal," Fuji said, putting his hands together. "It's as delicious as ever. I feel completely refreshed."
Ren smiled and nodded, taking the empty dishes. "It seems my cooking hasn't declined today. By the way, is your sister coming home late today, or did she come home and then leave again?"
Fuji stood up, picking up his tennis bag. "Nee-san went to her friend's place for something. She said she'd be back later. She was quite envious when she heard I came here without her. She demanded I bring her next time."
Ren didn't say anything, just smiled. After Fuji chatted for a while longer about the weather and recent tennis drills, he paid the bill and walked to the door.
Before leaving, he turned back, his blue eyes opening slightly again. "I'll come with my sister in a while. Good night, Ren-san. Good night, ladies."
"Good night."
Ren waved as the door closed.
The shop fell silent again.
Just then, Cerberus turned her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. She tugged on Ren's sleeve.
"Master, Master, Master! How spicy is Hellish Spice? That boy ate it all! Is it really that hot? Can I try? I am a Hellhound! I eat fire!"
Lucifer also really wanted to know the answer to this question. She put down her phone. "Yes. As the Queen of Hell, I should evaluate if this dish is worthy of its name."
Ren looked at the two curious demons. He hesitated. "Are you sure? It's not just 'hot'. It's... spiritual damage."
"We are demons! We are immune to fire!" Cerberus insisted.
Ren thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."
He went to the kitchen and got two white ceramic spoons. He dipped them into the remaining red oil at the bottom of the pot that Fuji hadn't finished. It was a concentrated essence of pain.
He brought the spoons out. The liquid was a dark, ominous crimson.
Lucifer looked down at it, then frowned, sniffing delicately. "Why does the smell of this stuff sting my eyes?! It feels... aggressive."
Ren showed a playful, almost sadistic smile and handed the spoons to the two of them. "Bottoms up."
Cerberus and Lucifer, driven by pride and curiosity, ate the spoonfuls without thinking.
One second.
Two seconds.
Both of them fell silent. Their movements froze.
Then—
"GWAAAAH!"
Cerberus immediately jumped up as if she had been electrocuted. She grabbed Ren's arm and shook him desperately, her eyes losing focus. She muttered incoherently, "Master, Master, Master! It's so spicy! My tongue! My tongue is burning! There are ants biting my mouth! It's so uncomfortable!"
Ren, who was already prepared, calmly reached under the counter and brought out a large glass of cold milk.
Cerberus snatched it and drank it all in one gulp, milk mustache foaming on her lips. She slammed the glass down, tears streaming down her face. "Master, Master, Master! It's still spicy! It's in my throat!"
"More milk!"
After drinking six glasses of milk, Cerberus finally lay on the table with red, swollen lips and slightly reddish eyes. She looked like a defeated puppy. It was clear that Cerberus, the fearsome Guardian of the Underworld, had been brought to tears by a chili pepper.
Ren chuckled, patting her head. Then he looked at Lucifer.
The Queen was silent. She sat perfectly still, her hands gripping her knees. Her face was lowered.
Ren walked over. Seeing Lucifer's dazed expression, he asked curiously, "Lucifer~ What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Mmm…" A small, broken sound.
"Mmm?"
Lucifer looked up. Her beautiful face was flushed a deep crimson, and big, pearl-like tears were welling up in her eyes.
"Waaah, waaah, waaah! So spicy! So spicy! Ren! You tried to assassinate me!"
She burst into tears, abandoning all dignity. She waved her hands in front of her mouth, trying to fan the flames. "Water! Ice! Anything! My mouth is on fire!"
Ren watched Lucifer cry like a child, and his mouth twitched, trying to suppress a laugh. Is this really the Queen of Hell? If it weren't for the magic contract, I really wouldn't believe that this girl, who is crying from the spiciness, is actually the ruler of the damned...
A few minutes later.
The crisis had passed. Lucifer lay on the table next to Cerberus like a second salted fish. Her eyes were visibly swollen from crying. She looked pitiful.
Ren said helplessly, handing her a cold towel. "You two~ Don't you know how to use magic to eliminate this spiciness? You could have just cast a cooling spell."
Lucifer froze.
She blinked.
She suddenly felt very stupid. In her panic, she had completely forgotten she was a magical being. She buried her face in her arms and lay there without a word, refusing to acknowledge her idiocy.
Ren glanced at Cerberus and found that the triple-headed dog was already asleep, exhausted by the adrenaline crash. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic.
With a sigh, Ren gently picked up Cerberus. She was lighter than she looked. "Bedtime for the puppy."
He carried her to the spare room he had set up for them.
"Hmm… This girl…"
After Ren put Cerberus on the bed, he noticed the decorations in the room. Dog toys were scattered everywhere, and there was a pile of bones in the corner. He smiled and shook his head, tucked Cerberus in, and chuckled softly before leaving the room.
As soon as Ren left and the door clicked shut, Cerberus's eyes snapped open.
Poof!
Smoke filled the bed. The single Cerberus split into three separate bodies. The bed was suddenly crowded.
The three of them looked at each other, joy and mischief in their eyes.
"That was close! He almost saw the stash of snacks!" Left Cerberus whispered.
"Shh!" Middle Cerberus pulled out a smartphone from under the pillow. "Let's play games. Master thinks we're asleep."
The Cerberus in the middle continued to play on her phone, while the other two leaned on her shoulders and watched together, occasionally letting out a soft laugh. They were a pack, after all.
Ren returned to the main hall. Lucifer was still lying on the table, pretending to be dead or asleep to avoid embarrassment.
"Lucifer… Ah… Is she asleep too?" Ren walked over quietly. He poked her cheek. No reaction. "What a cute little Queen~"
Lucifer's face, hidden in her arms, turned even redder. She continued to play dead, hoping he would just leave a blanket and go.
Instead, she felt strong arms slide under her.
Ren crouched down slightly. One arm went under Lucifer's knees, and the other went behind her back.
Lucifer's pupils, visible under her eyelids, suddenly constricted. Her heart skipped a beat.
He... he is carrying me?! The Princess Carry?!
She stiffened, fighting the urge to jump up and shout. But if she did that, she'd have to explain why she was faking sleep. So, she committed to the bit, letting her head rest against his chest. She could smell the faint scent of tea and spices on his shirt. It was... nice.
Ren carried her up the stairs to her room. He moved steadily, as if she weighed nothing.
He placed Lucifer gently on her bed. But he didn't leave immediately.
Ren stood by the bedside, looking down at Lucifer's "sleeping face." Her eyelashes were trembling slightly.
He chuckled softly, leaning down to brush a stray silver hair from her forehead. "You really are a cute little Queen~ Even if you are a bit clumsy with spicy food. Well then… Good night, Lucifer…"
His voice was low and gentle, sending a shiver down her spine.
After speaking, Ren turned off the lamp and quietly left the room, closing the door with a soft click.
As soon as Ren left, Lucifer sprang up like a shot. She sat bolt upright in the darkness, clutching the blanket to her chest. Her face was burning hot, and it wasn't from the chili peppers this time.
She looked at the closed door, her heart racing.
Then she fell straight back down, burying her face in the pillow to muffle a scream of embarrassment. She kicked her legs in the air.
After a long while, she stopped kicking. She rolled over, staring at the ceiling.
"Who's a cute little Queen…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I am the CEO of Hell! I am feared by millions! I am…"
She touched her forehead where he had brushed her hair.
"I'm really at my wit's end with you… Ren."
She pulled the blanket over her head.
"Good night… you idiot."
[Akarin Note:
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