Hell Inn: Rebirth - I Became a Chef in Hell

Chapter 96 Oh dear! Alright! Now we really have to meet the King of Hell!

Because you've been so busy lately, you've had the rare thought of simply sleeping in early in the morning.

After you've taken photos of yourself making breakfast and arranged everything properly, you thought you could finally get some rest and go back to sleep.

But Murphy's Law states that when you think everything is fine, it's because something big is about to happen.

You were practically dragged away by Shirley in the morning.

The little witch, who had long since figured out the layout of your room, rushed into your room in a hurry, and then pulled you out of the "jade tree" that never made a defensive gesture against her actions, where you were still fast asleep in your undergarments.

"Hey, good morning, honey! Looks like your morning wasn't going very well?"

Angel, the first person to greet you, cupped your face in his hands and spoke to you in a tone as if he were teasing a puppy.

"Everything related to work is fucking bullshit, the only difference is I'm outside, and you're inside~"

After the Spider Sinner winked at you, he cheekily pinched your nose.

"Good morning, another stupid Monday, a stupid day."

Hesk, sitting on a single sofa, waved lazily at you.

Good morning! Beautiful chef! Even in... uh, pajamas, you look absolutely stunning!

Pantheon politely removed his hat and bowed to you.

As usual, Nifluffy climbed up your tail and onto your head, staring intently at you with her single, bloodshot eye, her tone eerie: "Hi! Good morning—Dragon—Dragon—hehehehehe..."

you:.

"...You don't look like you slept well, sweetheart?"

Vicky, who seemed closer to you, stood beside you, silently smoothing your rather unruly hair with her hand.

Seeing this, Angel silently grabbed your tail and pulled you to the sofa. He then began to imitate Vicky's actions and used his four hands to help you straighten your tormenting long hair.

You, half-dead and barely able to raise your hand in response: "..."

You feel like the entire hell should be grateful to you for not having a grumpy personality when you wake up. If you could, you'd actually rather cover your face with your hands and scream in despair.

But Shirley is still as "energetic" as ever, which is a good thing for you.

A disheveled Eastern sinner stood before Shirley, listening with a helpless and depressed expression to the blonde woman's clearly incoherent speech.

She tried to rouse her still-not-fully-awakened mind, attempting to glean useful information from Xia Li's rambling and disjointed narrative and anxieties.

Shirley seems to be telling you that a distinguished guest is coming to the inn, and she hopes you can prepare some decent food to entertain him.

Aside from a few useful pieces of information, Shirley spent most of her time expressing her anxiety about the future of the inn and what to do when the major purge in a few months was making no progress.

Because even the best you could do right now couldn't get into heaven, the little princess of hell is now feeling more anxious than ever before.

……

...By the way, where's Alastor? Isn't he the hotel facilities manager? Shouldn't he share the responsibility for this with you? Who's the facilities manager, you or him?

Looking at Shirley, whose eyes were already bloodshot, you tried your best to maintain a smile that barely touched your face while cursing Alastor in your heart.

This guy always seems to be out gallivanting around at crucial moments, even when his kids are frantic with worry!

Aside from knowing to come out for meals during mealtimes and standing there like a sinister ghost watching others make fools of themselves when it's time to watch something funny, why don't you ever see him helping out at other times?

*Damn it, even in hell you'll see these damn, good-for-nothing bastards who don't care about anything!

You were furious with Alastor's hands-off attitude and gritted your teeth inwardly.

"Oh dear, you seem to have a really dark aura. Who's messed with you this time?"

Sensing your low spirits, Angel, propping his head up on the sofa, asked you in a teasing tone.

"Is there even a question? Besides that red-haired madman, who else could possibly offend her?"

Hesk, who usually has a sour face, leaned back on the sofa and casually replied with this remark.

"Hmm? ■■■Did you and Alastor have a fight?"

After Angel pointed it out, Shirley, who also noticed that you seemed a little off, asked you this cautiously.

you:"……?"

Why did it fast forward to you and Alastor arguing?

"..."

"I just feel that if hell is a giant chat group, then I want to leave the group right now."

Perhaps due to some kind of exhaustion, you responded with a blank expression and a tone that suggested you neither wanted to die nor wanted to live.

“…genius.” “…brilliant.”

Angel and Hesk, who agreed with your idea without hesitation, applauded you from behind.

"Ah...uh...um...this won't do, will you...will you two ever make up?"

Shirley, who seemed not to have realized what you meant, paused for a moment, then took your hands in her arms with a worried look on her face.

you:"……"

Although Shirley's concern is misplaced, Alastor, what have you done to deserve Shirley's worry about you like this?

Having extricated himself from the argument, the Eastern sinner looked at the blonde princess before him, forcing his expression to brighten, and sighed softly, saying, "Darling, I didn't argue with Alastor, and I won't argue with him."

"Yeah, yeah, those two are usually in cahoots. If something really happens, they'll probably fight."

Angel, always eager for drama, fanned the flames from the sidelines.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The Spider Sinner leaned against the back of the sofa next to you, his cheeks puffed out, using his particularly adorable face to embellish your precarious conversation.

"If there ever comes a day when a chef at an inn liberates tens of thousands of souls from a freakish lunatic, I'd fucking spend all my life savings to see it."

Hesk, a large cat holding an orange mug with a printed logo, was cheering on the side. You could even detect a strange excitement in his usually listless and lethargic tone.

"So you all want Alastor to die? Jennifer Tick is still here."

Vicky rolled her eyes as she stood next to you.

"Oh—I'd love to see that arrogant radio demon fall from his horse!"

Pantheon, seemingly very interested in the topic, struck a pose that appeared quite exaggerated.

"Especially Miss ■■■! That scene... Oh ho ho ho... Just thinking about it is incredibly exciting!"

The serpentine sinner rubbed his hands together with a sinister expression.

"Want him dead? No, I just want to watch the show. Who in hell doesn't enjoy a good show?"

Angel put one hand on his hip and shrugged.

"I'm still wondering who will sleep with him in the future, or who he will sleep with! I even bet two hundred dollars with our bartender!"

The Spider Sinner put his hand on the shoulder of the Big Cat Sinner next to him, but after a short while, the other silently took a step to the side.

However, you didn't see the familiar disdain on Hesker's face.

"Everyone will die, but I'd be happy to see someone execute that inhuman madman before I die... Don't you want him to die?"

After taking a sip of what was in his glass, Hesk asked Vicky with a fierce look on his face.

"Let's put this agenda aside for now..."

"No, no, no! No one will die in this inn!"

Shirley hurriedly interrupted Vicky, who seemed to be guiltily changing the subject, and then turned to you with a hopeful expression: "The guest coming this time will really be a great help to our inn's business. Whether we can change his mind or not probably depends on you the most... I believe in you, [name omitted]! You can definitely do it, right?"

Although the little princess acts like you've saved the world, you haven't figured out the whole story yet. And they've only given you less than an hour.

Although you can create miracles no matter how much time you're given, the more time you have, the more prepared you can be, right?

……

No, maybe it's because there's less than an hour left that Shirley is counting on you to create a miracle?

...This idea seems more reasonable.

■■■The mentality of someone who was successfully subjected to high-pressure manipulation in China before his death is finally starting to stir again.

“But before that, why don’t you go and make up with Alastor first? I don’t want the two of you to be angry with each other when he arrives…”

While you're deep in thought, Shirley, who seems preoccupied with wanting you to reconcile with Alastor, starts looking at you with those sparkling eyes again.

……

...But you didn't even argue with him! Who would bother arguing with someone whose mouth seems to be coated with poison?!

Before you could even look at Shirley with a bewildered and helpless gaze, or at Angel and Hesker with pleading eyes, they had already started laughing hysterically on the sidelines.

What kind of idiot are you to expect someone in hell to help you?

"..."

"I will make up with him...no matter what."

To put Shirley at ease, knowing that no matter how you explained it, she would think there was a conflict between you and Alastor, you were forced to compromise.

Instead of making Shirley worry, you might as well pretend to be kind and deceive the innocent little princess... So what if you suffer a loss? It doesn't matter.

You hunched over in exhaustion, your shoulders drooping.

Since you don't have much time left, you can only use your abilities when making desserts for this distinguished uninvited guest.

Before you entered the kitchen, Angel was still gloating as he said to you, "Remember to get along well with that weird-faced man." If he weren't so far away, you would definitely have smacked him with your tail.

Stepping onto the soft, pink ceramic tiles, a warm and fragrant aroma, so unlike anything in hell, wafts through the familiar kitchen.

At your insistence, your kitchen didn't use the dark red wallpaper and slightly antique-looking tiles found in the inn. This resulted in your kitchen having a pinkish yet strangely cute look.

You can only console yourself that although your kitchen is completely out of place in hell, at least it has a welcoming, warm light, and the steamy atmosphere while you're cooking has a touch of human gentleness...

Standing at the door, you took a deep, weary breath and slowly took down the pink apron that had been hanging on the wall by the door and put it on.

"...Don't you want to make up with me, darling? That's really heartbreaking."

Although you could immediately tell who it was from the sound that came from afar and had obvious special effects, the suddenness of the other person's voice still startled you as you were brushing your hair away from you.

Although your face doesn't show much emotion, your ears, which have turned into round, fluffy balls on the sides, perfectly reflect your current mood.

"Oh, so you've been listening to what we've been talking about from the very beginning... How does it feel to have a bad reputation, Mr. Radio Demon?"

Suppressing your anger, you didn't turn around, but the corner of your mouth twitched involuntarily.

In a moment of distraction, the soft, heavy strands of hair in your hand fell down. You had to reach up again to tuck them back up, your movement tinged with impatience.

"Ah... Most people in hell wish for those stronger than themselves to die, and I'm honored to be one of the demons they wish to die. Hmph~ At least I don't want to be a demon so weak that I can only hope for others to die."

Perhaps unable to bear your somewhat rough movements, Alastor, standing behind you, gently patted away your hand that was tying your hair, and then gently and gracefully curled your hair for you.

In less than a minute, Alastor had tied your hair into a beautiful high ponytail.

The broadcast demon's sharp claws gently brushed against the remaining stray hairs on the back of your neck with a sound that could even be described as tender; you could almost feel the male demon's soft breath.

"Then I'm curious, does the chef also wish for my death?"

Just as you were about to turn around, Alastor asked you this in his own voice, devoid of any broadcast effects, while simultaneously grabbing your shoulder with just the right amount of force.

The Eastern Sinner noticed that he seemed to be tying a bow on your apron quite naturally.

Your personal apron maker has actually done this for you many times before.

Alastor only appears to be a normal, gentle gentleman when he is silent and doing something for you.

At other times, he's just a wicked sinner lord with a penchant for watching other people's misery... and he can also make people think he has a serious mental illness.

Although inwardly cursing the broadcasting demon assisting him, the Eastern sinner obediently allowed the other party to tie his apron. He remained expressionless, his hands dangling in front of him.

"...Don't get me wrong, you're my business partner, and you've even tied me to be your bodyguard—don't worry, in this hell, apart from the demons in the inn, you won't die no matter who else dies."

Faced with Alastor's sudden rebuke, you, who already found his eavesdropping behavior amusing, twitched your lips and replied to him in a completely emotionless voice.

"Or do you think I'm the kind of weak demon who wishes for others to die?"

Perhaps feeling a surge of anger, you added this last sentence and, without hesitation, used the boomerang that Alastor himself had described to stab himself.

Just kidding, Alastor isn't the kind of demon who would put himself in danger. What's the difference between asking you to answer his question and asking you to recite pi backwards?

"...Ha...my sharp-tongued sweetheart."

Faced with your answer, Alastor, whose expression was unreadable, ran his hand over your slender waist, which he had tied into a bow, and lowered his eyes.

You could detect a hint of helplessness in his tone.

……

So weird.

"Perhaps I will ask this question again sometime in the future. I wonder if your answer will change then?"

He gripped your shoulder with his sharp claws and then gave you a smile that looked different from usual.

...It was a fairly normal smile.

You stare in shock at Alastor's expression, and when he opens his smiling, red pupils, you notice that his usually vertical pupils are now round like a cat's when it's happy.

If it weren't for the slightly frightening way he sticks his head out, you might even find him quite approachable and cute.

"But before that, I'm more curious about what kind of surprise you plan to prepare for our King of Hell?"

Just when you think Alastor seems a little abnormal, the broadcasting demon, who usually stops short at this point, immediately changes his previous demeanor and speaks excitedly and enthusiastically.

Even though you know his excitement is feigned...

……

and many more.

"...Who are you talking about?"

Suddenly realizing something, you opened your mouth, and a crack appeared in your usually calm expression.

Compared to what he had just said, Alastor's unusual behavior vanished from your mind in an instant.

"What, didn't our little princess tell you who that uninvited guest was?"

As Alastor slid sideways to your side, his eyes wide, and asked in a lively tone tinged with schadenfreude.

"The guest who is coming to visit today is her dear father."

"And also our mysterious King of Hell—the 'Great' Prince Lucifer!"

……

you:"……"

Feeling as if he were a shattered Eastern sinner, he stared wide-eyed at the radio demon before him, hands raised as if delivering an important speech—

A long, long silence ensued.