Hell Inn: Rebirth - I Became a Chef in Hell

Chapter 260 Childish - S01E07

Okay then, what were you thinking about just now?

Was it because he didn't want Shirley to see him in such a disheveled state, or was it for some other reason?

After saying "I'm fine," you, who had clearly lied, maintained your expressionless face and looked at Shirley in front of you in silence for a moment.

The blonde's worry was clearly visible, but since you couldn't help her, you could only rub your left hand, which had just regained feeling, with your right hand to wipe away the blood that had squeezed out of your pores; it looked as if nothing had happened.

Okay, listen up.

You need to calm down now.

[...Or do you intend to scare Shirley like this?]

You keep reminding yourself in your mind, but the faint flame of emotion in your chest keeps flickering; the Dragon Girl's eyes twitch slightly, and she subconsciously reaches out and pinches her brow, like some kind of elder who is powerless to help with family matters.

Shirley kept asking you in different ways if you were feeling unwell, but at that moment you were filled with mixed emotions and didn't know what to say to make sure it was appropriate.

It's pathetic that when you signed the soul contract with Shirley, you never imagined that something like a "broadcasting demon" would be added to your game. Otherwise, you would never have proposed such a ill-considered and reckless condition as, "Within my capabilities, I will protect every demon in the inn from harm."

...Even if you had left yourself some leeway back then, it would have been better. Otherwise, wouldn't you be able to take action against the broadcasting demon now?

Look at you! Now you can only stand there and watch Shirley make a deal with a blood-stained old fox, while you have nothing to do and are filled with regret!

So what exactly is the Broadcast Demon thinking? What's going on in his head?

……

……

This is so childish.

You shouldn't waste your time arguing and playing house with the broadcasting demon; instead, you should be thinking about the angelic purge "starting from the inn."

Shirley kept repeating things like, "You look horribly pale!" and "Is there really nothing I can do to help you?"—clearly panicked statements.

Subconsciously not wanting the other party to know what she had done, the dragon girl, under the gaze of the hell princess, awkwardly and seemingly trying to cover up her mistake, touched the stray hairs on her forehead with one hand.

She hadn't wanted to show too much exhaustion, but clearly, this unexpected event far exceeded her expectations.

Aside from the deal Alastor and Shirley made—and you still don't really understand why Alastor brought Shirley to find Rosie?

You looked at the pretty, clean face of the blonde woman in front of you, and your eyes narrowed slightly, almost unconsciously.

It seems that only when you look at Shirley's face can your restless thoughts calm down a little; and in your gradually calming memories, the broadcast demon seems to often come to the ogre town.

You do live in the Pride Ring and rarely leave the inn, but just in case, you do know a little about the sinner lords in the Pride Ring.

While not interested in most of the "celebrities" in Hell, you know the name of every sinner lord, their profession, and the Pride Ring they occupy, based on the idea that underestimating any being can lead to your own suffering.

The lord who manages the cannibal town is named "Rosie"...

It's just "Rosie".

Unfortunately, in your busy hellish life, you don't have time to spy on the personality and life of each sinner lord like a pervert... But fortunately, you did prepare a plan in advance for Shirley to deal with or win over each sinner lord, just in case.

"Sorry, Shirley, I startled you." The Eastern Sinner, who finally spoke, smiled faintly and then used his undamaged hand to tidy up Shirley's blonde hair. "I have to admit, our inn manager is quite capable, isn't he? It seems I'm not as mature as you think."

"..."

The dragon girl's tone remained as calm as ever.

Perhaps in the past, when ■■■ mentioned such things, Xia Li would jokingly say that she was making such unrealistic jokes again.

But after she made those remarks about resisting the sinners of the East, hearing ■■■ "belittle" herself like that, Xia Li only felt a faint sadness and embarrassment.

She probably knew that her words had hurt and provoked [the person in question], but she didn't regret it—she felt it was the consequence she deserved.

Although she thought this in her heart, the expression on her face did not match her mature inner self. The Hell Princess pretended to be stiff and said, "Nothing happened, we are still good friends." She squeezed the Eastern Sinner's cold hand, trying to show goodwill, and then turned to look at the blood-red Wendigo standing not far away.

Alastor's outward demeanor was just like ■■■'s usual aloof tone—polite, restrained, and elegant.

However, to Shirley's surprise, she clearly saw Alastor frowning, looking unhappy.

It's important to understand that the "Sinner Lords" already hold a superior position within the Ring of Pride, and their inn's facilities manager is among the best; cunning, cruel, and infamous...

He often wore a meaningful smile, or rather, his smiling face and sharp fangs never disappeared from it; and to know his current mood, all demons could only judge it by looking into his eyes—

But for most hellish demons who only care about themselves, this is actually a very difficult thing to do.

Shirley Morningstar is a very straightforward person with a simple mind; therefore, the Hell Princess is not very good at discerning other people's subtle emotions, especially when dealing with an old fox like Alastor.

But this time, even she could see the undisguised displeasure in the broadcasting demon's eyes...

Of course!! Who wouldn't be angry after being talked to like that? Especially Alastor?

—That—that grumpy, and absolutely incredibly difficult radio demon!?

Xia Li swallowed hard, her mind racing with doubt.

She stared nervously at Alastor, who was frowning deeply and impatiently glancing at him from the side.

The usually composed sinner lord was constantly adjusting his cuffs, one-way mirror, or bow tie, as if some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder had suddenly erupted into a frenzy; he gripped his cane tightly, his sharp fingertips almost piercing the microphone at the tip.

The rustling sound, clearly a sign of annoyance, rang incessantly within Shirley's audible range, and sometimes... she could even see Alastor's lips twitch uncomfortably.