The conversation that had been blooming all over the restaurant fell into a whisper in an instant. Some costumers shift their posture, while almost all eyes snapped into focus before landing at the door.
Valerie froze mid-step, Vilera's smile didn't fade, but her eyes sharpened, and Zhark took one step closer to the center of the hall. In the kitchen, Finka's hands slowed on instinct while Bilo looked up from the counter, eyes wide.
Even Raon stopped whatever he did before.
In the meantime, the group from Konoha remained where they were. They hadn't drawn weapons, they also didn't use their chakra, and unlike the other group from Konoha, they didn;t even had the slightest killing intent shooting at the room. However, their posture betrayed them Their backs went straight in an instant and Ludwig knew their eyes quickly measured the space between them and the other patron.
But the Checkpoint had told him who they were. They were no diplomats nor envoys from the same village that had attacked the place. They were just workers who were here this afternoon and yesterday. Those who were sent by Konoha to fulfill their end of the bargain.
Feeling another nudge from the restaurant, probably a little scolding to how he chose to keep cooking rather than welcoming them and defusing the atmosphere completely, Ludwig opened his mouth.
"If you're here to eat, then you're welcome."
Every head snapped to him as his words fell. Only then he turned away from the heat, hands waving in the air to freeze the time around the pasta he had been cooking until just a few seconds ago. Then, he walked to the separator and perched his hands there.
"If you're not." He continued evenly, "The door works both ways."
The Konoha workers exchanged glances. Uncertainty flashed on their eyes. But there's also another emotion: resolution. One of them, the oldest man of the bunch who talked to Ludwig yesterday, took a breath and stepped forward half a pace. "We're not here to cause trouble."
"I see." Ludwig replied without any shred of doubt.
Their faces shifted as he heard his voice, maybe, they were prepared to be scorned. They were expecting him not to trust their words so easily. But that's just not how Ludwig operated. He was a chef, not a one-eyed man who ran a secret organization that feel the need to know everything about someone.
He finally gestured toward an open table near the side.
"Sit." He said. "Enjoy the food we serve to your heart's content. As long as you just want to dine, nobody will touch you. That includes my customers."
The silence inside the restaurant became thicker as Ludwig said that.
Then Ludwig added, voice steady as stone. "That's a rule."
The room finally exhaled. Zhark stepped back, Valerie resumed walking. Finka's hands moved again, and Bilo swallowed before returning to his work.
The Konoha workers hesitated, only a heartbeat longer, before moving toward the table. As they did so, the silence evaporated like it had never been there. Forks started moving again, plates were moved around, and food was served. Conversation also resumed, a normal night in a place that was quite abnormal.
Ludwig went back to the kitchen, the frozen time around the pan resumed with a flick of fingers. The pasta finished its final seconds in the pan, sauce thickening just enough to cling instead of pool. He stirred once and then twice before sliding the pan off the heat. A dusting of cheese followed, shaved fine enough to melt on contact, not drown the dish.
"This is for Rimuru." He called without raising his voice.
Finka was already there with plate in hand. She didn't look nervous anymore. If anything, she looked focused.
The Ratatouille went first. Layers of vegetables, softened but intact, colors still vivid under the lamplight. Finka carried it out carefully, as if the arrangement itself deserved respect.
Next came the pasta. Bilo handled that one, though his hand quivered for a moment due to the weight. The fish soup followed after, steam curled upward as Finka placed it on the table, the surface broken only by herbs and slices of tender fish beneath. The Skewers were the last one to arrive.
From the kitchen, Ludwig watched the plates land. Rimuru leaned forward immediately, eyes lighting up the way they always did when food surprised him. He poked the Ratatouille lightly with his spoon, paused, then took a bite.
"Well, I don't know how the Ratatouille from the movie tastes, but for me…" Rimuru said, voice softer than before. "That's the one."
Shuna tasted the soup next. Her eyes closed for a heartbeat. When she opened them again, she smiled.
Benimaru also tasted the Ratatouille. The first bite drew a low hum from his chest before he could stop himself. He paused, frowned at the food like it was something strange,then took another bite anyway.
Just before Ludwig could talk to them, Valerie walked with another order in hand. "Six pasta and six bitter ale for Konoha workers."
"Alright." He said, tone unchanged. "Pasta first."
The kitchen moved again. Water came back to a rolling boil while the dough was portioned. Ludwig handled the sauce himself this time, ladling with experience. Cheese followed next, light. Six plates lined up on the counter in almost no time. Valerie took the ales first, balancing the mugs with her usual impossible grace. Vilera followed with the plates, face calm, posture neutral.
From the dining hall, a few heads turned. The Konoha workers sat straighter as the food arrived, hands folding briefly on the table in a reflex born of discipline. When the plates were set down, one of them blinked, seemingly not expecting something that had happened.
The oldest among them picked up his fork, paused a little before taking a bite.
Then, his shoulders dropped.
"…It's good." He said quietly, almost like an apology for admitting it. That seemed to break something small and tight around the table.
Forks quickly moved around the table. The ale was also lifted and tasted. One of them exhaled through his nose. Conversation didn't bloom, not yet. But at least their table started breathing.
From the kitchen, Ludwig saw it and turned back to his station. Only then did he feel the momentary lull around the house. Orders were caught up, almost all of his patrons had got their order.
That was when Rimuru spoke again.
"So…" He said lightly, chopsticks hovering over the last of his pasta, "You're not even worried, huh?"
Ludwig wiped his hands once and leaned against the counter, finally allowing himself to look their way properly.
"About?"
Rimuru gestured vaguely with a thumb toward the Konoha table. "Them."
Benimaru didn't interrupt, while Shuna listened quietly with her hands folded around her bowl.
Ludwig smirked and shrugged. "You know, this place is a restaurant. Even when it's a little quirky, at the end of the day, it's a place that serves food and drinks. If I start choosing who gets to eat based on yesterday, I won't have a restaurant for very long.
"Moreover, we have come to an agreement with the Hokage. He knew what it meant to cross us again. So, yeah, I'm not really worried."
Rimuru let out a hum, deep and contemplative rather than teasing. "I've heard about the attack. I've also heard about the deal from Shuna and Benimaru. A solid agreement, that. Tempest will be happy to help you with it."
"Well, I'm just the face. You better talk with Claire about it." Ludwig shrugged. "By the way, can you quicken the pace of the curry production? Let me save some money."
Rimuru blinked. Then he laughed.
"Wow. Straight to business, huh?" He leaned back on his stool, chopsticks still in hand. "I come here expecting comfort food and emotional healing, and you hit me with negotiations."
Benimaru snorted into his drink at his lord's statement while Shuna covered her smile with her sleeve, eyes amused.
"I mean, you are the one who are late in fulfilling it." Ludwig threw a jab.
"Hey! I have another responsibility, you know."
Shuna laughed softly this time. "Just like I told you before, Ludwig-sama, the facility is currently in progress. Once it's built, we will be able to ramp up the production."
Ludwig nodded, accepting that without pushing. "I believe you, Shuna. But Rimuru? I don't trust him with this kind of stuff. He probably forget about it again soon."
"I will not!" Rimuru retorted. "Though I'm pretty sure you're the only person alive who negotiates curry output over dinner."
"Then you haven't experienced much." Ludwig replied with a laugh.
For a moment, they simply existed in the hum of the restaurant. Plates clinked. Someone laughed too loud. Raon argued with the cats about whether vegetables were allowed to taste good. The Konoha workers were still quiet, but their posture had eased, backs no longer stiff, movements no longer measured to the inch.
Then the bell rang again.
Ludwig didn't look up immediately. He didn't need to. The restaurant told him who it was before the door was opened.
Claire walked in like she owned the place. Coat over one arm, expression composed, eyes already sweeping the room with practiced efficiency. She took in the Konoha table, the Tempest crowd, the relaxed noise level, and finally the kitchen.
Her gaze locked with Ludwig's. For half a second, nothing happened. Then, she moved her gaze towards Rimuru and smirked.
"Look who finally decided to wake up."
Rimuru gave her a pointed look and smirked also. "And guess what I hear? You felt so powerful yesterday, eh?"
Claire crossed through the distance between the door and the bar stool in an instant before taking a seat beside Shuna. "How can anyone not feel like that? Thank god Ilea is here to pull me back to reality."
Claire leaned back slightly on the stool, one arm resting along the bar as she glanced between Rimuru, Shuna, and Benimaru. The easy confidence never left her posture, but her eyes were already sharpening.
"So." She began, tone casual, "Since everyone's here and awake, we might as well—"
Rimuru raised a finger. "Uh-oh. That's the voice."
"What? Don't you want to hear the debrief?" Claire asked pointedly before continuing. "The agreement is solid, but there are a few practical points we should divide by ourselves—"
Ludwig snorted quietly from behind the counter. "She's about to start talking numbers."
"I will always talk numbers. Especially when both of you are involved." Claire shot back without looking at him. "Someone has to make sure the deal doesn't collapse."
Shuna smiled politely. "We don't mind hearing it."
Claire's smile sharpened. "Good. Then first…"
But as if the world heard their plight, the restaurant suddenly hummed into Ludwig. It was louder than before, something he came to know that it was the sign of a new world being connected to the restaurant.
He whipped his head to the door, heart beating in anticipation. Then came the bell. The sound cut cleanly through her sentence, crisp enough that even Rimuru paused mid-bite.
When the door opened wide, an elderly who had a straight posture despite her graying hair stepped inside. He was wearing a clean lab coat that looked wildly out of place and perfectly appropriate at the same time.
His eyes were bright and sharp, something could only be found in those who didn't just excel in fighting. They widened almost immediately as they took in the space. Beside him walked a small, orange, lizard-like creature. A flame burned steadily at the tip of its tail, casting a soft, warm glow that flickered against the floor. It paused just inside the doorway, head tilting slightly as it sniffed the air.
The flame wavered, then the creature let out a small, pleased chirp, tail swishing once as the scent of food reached it.
"Well now." The man said, adjusting his glasses. "This certainly isn't what I expected when I walked into a newly opened restaurant in Pallet Town."
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