Hell Inn: Rebirth - I Became a Chef in Hell

Chapter 7 The future is long

In fact, ever since he met you through the wiretapped radio, Alastor has been calling you "Miss Chef".

But after he formally called your name, you felt a subtle and strange feeling rising within you—

But it's not love, which is a truly chilling thought.

You shivered involuntarily.

……

But I bet your newly built image will crumble very quickly, won't it? What a fragile and pointless show of force...

You suddenly feel like a wilted eggplant, utterly miserable and wretched.

After you've had your fill of spinning around, Shirley is excitedly pulled away by Vicky, who seems to want to say something to the little princess of hell who's having a great time, and you're finally able to go back to the sofa to rest.

"Oh...wow, I'm sure you'll provide me with many delightful sights in the days to come."

Just before you sank back into your chair like a deflated balloon in a corner, Alastor casually delivered the final blow, even emphasizing the word "many."

"..."

After being put down by Shirley, you slumped into a chair, unsure of what to say. You could only wearily lift your eyelids and stare at the unchanging broadcast demon in front of you.

Alastor, who always greets others with a smile, walks up to you, then bends down and stares at you with his eyes half-closed.

He didn't contort his face like before. You wondered if he would also show you that distorted, terrifying look, but he didn't seem angry.

Demonstrating your strength is a ticket to compete with intelligent people, and also a sign of respect for a strong individual.

Undoubtedly, the Broadcast Demon, who is both powerful and intelligent yet always maintains elegance, possesses a unique charm.

But a gentlemanly, intelligent, and enigmatic person is always likable; that's an inevitable result.

You meet his gaze and begin to lament your irreversible, aimless life that is now a thing of the past.

But then again, you really did use the word "gentleman" to describe Alastor quite a few times.

Although his smile is frightening and his exact strength is still unknown, you might find this dangerous sinner lord not without his interesting aspects.

At least he has a pair of small, cute-looking antlers that resemble newly sprouting buds.

And you notice that every time Alastor delivers his impassioned and eloquent speeches, the part of his head that looks like an ear trembles slightly.

You still think you really like the playful black curve on Alastor's head, around the ear.

You gently raised your eyebrows.

The broadcast demon, unable to read your mind, squinted at you, as if pondering something important or funny.

But you, whose thoughts are vastly different from the other person's, feel that when Alastor looks at people this way, there seems to be a strange... allure.

Or is this a unique perception inherent to all creatures that have gone to hell?

You glance back at Alastor without a second thought, seemingly unconcerned by his meaningful look.

The more you stare at this uninvited sinner lord, the more you feel that the broadcasting demon reminds you of a bizarre and magnificent night.

Perhaps it was an old-fashioned radio placed on an exquisite tea table, or a worn-out white gauze curtain torn by the moon and wind.

A delicate red rose sits pitifully in a dry vase, yet its swaying petals are fiercely aggressive, devouring flesh and drinking blood.

Perhaps it was in a forest where withered branches intertwined and wild beasts roamed, where the wolf king died from a wild deer. The eyes of this seemingly herbivorous animal would emit a red glow at night, and you could almost smell the sap from the decaying plants trampled by the deer's hooves.

You didn't show him enough kindness, but you still admired his danger and beauty.

"Should I then say that it is my honor to please the dear radio devil?"

You propped your head up with your hand and used the words Alastor often said to you, and then, without any hesitation, continued to stare at him, supporting your head with your palm.

Because you find it amusing, you give him a faint smile.

Although Alastor isn't your type, who doesn't like a smart person? Especially since he'll be your future partner in public.

Even if this mysterious sinner lord is hiding something, you don't care that he's keeping it from everyone, since you are too.

"..."

You still don't know what the silent broadcast demon is thinking at this moment, but you notice that Alastor's smile has suddenly widened even more.

Obvious static came from his microphone and throat, its meaning unclear.

"There's plenty of time, my dear."

The Crimson Sinner, skilled at leaving blank spaces, ended with a rising "humph," and the materialized, hideous black shadow behind him melted away at his feet.

Alastor suddenly changed his previous playful and aloof demeanor, laughing heartily and tapping your head with the microphone in his hand.

Before you could even register your displeasure, he turned and walked toward Shirley and the wary Vicky, leaving you with only a somewhat frail yet elegant silhouette.

You don't understand Alastor's rambling and incoherent statement.

Unable to comment on this mysterious broadcasting demon, you could only subconsciously wag your tail.

Just when you think you're almost ready to go upstairs, Angel, who was talking to Shirley and the others on the other side, suddenly comes up to you and asks you mysteriously.

"Hey, Miss Cold, you didn't happen to have feelings for this weird-voiced guy, did you?"

……

……

You, who have the material for tonight's nightmare based on just one sentence from Angel: "...?"