The Demon King’s Gifted Restaurant glittered with brilliance. Bright light reflected off high-quality black décor—elegant tables, comfortable seating, and refined tableware, every detail steeped in luxury.
Light danced in the corners of the tiled floor, shimmered through hand-carved ice, gleamed on polished bottles, and caught the mist of freshly served dishes. Everything sparkled under the reflections.
“We value honesty, wholeness, and the natural qualities of our ingredients. Should you have any feedback or concerns, please don’t hesitate to tell us.”
The demon waitress placed the dishes Lan Qi and Huperion had ordered in front of them, her movements elegant and precise like a noble attendant, each gesture steady and fluid.
One dish: freshly grilled beef cut into small cubes, sprinkled with herbs, fried salt-grass leaves, and translucent pear slices, served atop a thin slice of black bread—an appetizer.
Another: thick cuts of venison marinated with salt and black pepper, seared until the exterior was crisp and fragrant, the inside tender and soft, layered with thin slices of black truffle, radiating a heady aroma. Alongside sat a spiced snowflake garnish and a cup of red wine sauce.
Finally, dessert: a glossy, round chocolate sphere, filled with a layer of caramel cream cheese, its surface dusted with sea salt for contrast. One light tap with a spoon would shatter the shell and let the molten caramel flow out.
Because the silver-haired demon had ordered ahead of them, Lan Qi and Huperion hadn’t managed to get the higher-end dishes.
For now, they had to make do with more “ordinary” fare.
But even this spread was enough to feel the respect the academy branch of the Demon King’s Gifted Restaurant held toward food and its guests.Huperion looked at the plates, uncertain of what Lan Qi had in mind.
“Lan Qi, you can’t use summons in here.”
She lowered her voice.
The restaurant had rules akin to a “no pets allowed” policy—summoned beasts and familiars were strictly forbidden.
Without Great Poet of Love, Lan Qi’s core card and key finisher, most of his strategies were unusable.
Even provoking others with words was banned here. No matter how much he wanted to play mind games, Lan Qi’s hands seemed tied.
“Huperion, as long as we follow the rules, it’ll be fine. I want to record a short public service video for the mortal world audience watching the broadcast—promoting the theme: ‘cherishing food is an honor, wastefulness a shame.’”
Lan Qi’s words brimmed with sincerity.
He wasn’t the least concerned with the silver-haired demon’s earlier hostility. What worried him was the decadent, indulgent lifestyle the demon embodied—wine flowing, food wasted—which might send the wrong message to mortal youths watching the stream.
As members of the Civilization Model Squad, they had a duty to lead by example.
To pass on healthy values. To set the tone.
“You’re going to—”
Huperion felt a bad premonition, but before she could finish, Lan Qi had already started.
His complexion suddenly paled.
“Manager, sir…”
He raised a trembling hand.
The manager hurried over with professional ease—compared to the silver-haired demon radiating oppressive tension, Lan Qi and Huperion were far easier to serve.
“Sorry, Manager, I… my chest feels a little tight. Do you have anything warm to drink?”
Lan Qi’s hand shook as he held out his empty glass. His voice sounded pained, hoarse—like a wounded beast trying to hide its affliction.
“Yes, at once.”
The manager nodded, took the glass, and walked toward the wine cabinet to prepare something for him.
And then—
Lan Qi hunched forward, trembling like a man disabled. His hand quivered as he picked up his utensils, forcing food into his mouth while letting out low groans.
In the human world, such exaggerated signs would sometimes invite cruelty from ill-mannered children who mocked the disabled by imitating them. A shameful act.
But in the Demon Realm’s high-class restaurants, such behavior was almost unthinkable.
Across the room, at a long table—
The silver-haired demon glanced toward Lan Qi. His mouth curled faintly with disdain, touched with regret, before he shot a brief look at Huperion and then turned back to his feast.
To him, the radiant demon was pitiful—weak, pathetic, relying on a female companion’s pity to even get by. Even if he graduated, he would be a nobody in the Demon Realm.
The silver-haired demon tilted his wine bottle, letting a crimson stream pour into his glass. His expression softened into one of quiet enjoyment.
Lan Qi was nothing but a passing joke—soon to be drowned beneath fine food and wine.
The restaurant hushed again, its black-draped tables gleaming like locked treasure chests, soft lights twinkling like scattered diamonds.
Through the windows, Purgatory City’s night stretched out—lights like shooting stars across the sky, air fragrant with the mingling scents of demon cuisine.
And in that moment—
Unnoticed, Lan Qi quietly reached across with healing magic.
Suddenly, the silver-haired demon froze, a sharp spasm running through him. His hands shook, his face twisted, and a muffled groan escaped his throat.
Immediately, Lan Qi mirrored him. He, too, raised his spoon with trembling hands, groaning in identical rhythm, synchronizing every movement and sound.
“…”
The silver-haired demon realized it instantly.
Lan Qi was targeting him—not with aggression, but with a mocking “sympathy,” mirroring his state to humiliate him.
He had originally intended to ignore Lan Qi. But now, the fool dared to provoke him first.
The consequences would be severe.
—
At that moment, the manager returned.
He froze at the scene: two demons, side by side, both convulsing and groaning, movements eerily synchronized.
The manager’s face hardened.
Suddenly, he stormed toward the silver-haired demon’s table!
“Do NOT mock the disabled!”
His voice boomed as his hand cracked across the silver-haired demon’s head, snapping it sideways.
This restaurant would never allow customers to be insulted.
—
From afar—
Lan Qi calmly continued trembling as though nothing had happened, focused on eating with “unyielding spirit,” ignoring the fallen silver-haired demon.
To anyone watching—it looked like the silver-haired demon had been the one mocking the “truly disabled” Lan Qi all along.
“Cherish your food—start with the smallest of things.”
Lan Qi finally sighed with relief, uttering his closing line.
The public service ad—complete.
“???”
Huperion’s eyelids twitched furiously.
Once again, she had underestimated just how shameless this man could be.