Chapter 65: Lance’s Public Service Announcement

Bright lights gleamed off the high-quality black decor of the Demon King’s Bestowed Restaurant. The elegant tables, comfortable seating, and exquisite tableware all exuded an air of luxury.

Light danced across the corners of the floor tiles, while the crystalline clarity of hand carved ice, the sheen of wine bottles, and the rising steam from freshly served dishes all looked even more stunning as the light refracted through them.

The demon server gracefully placed their ordered food onto the table before Lance and Hyperion as she said, "We prioritize the integrity, wholeness, and natural quality of our ingredients. Should you have any feedback or comments, please do not hesitate to let us know."

She arranged the food with the poise of a professional aristocratic attendant, and her movements were steady and fluid. One dish was an appetizer featuring bite-sized pieces of fresh, seared beef that was sprinkled with herbs, fried salt-grass leaves, and translucent pear slices. It all rested atop a thin slice of dark bread.

Another dish appeared to be a thick cut of venison that was seasoned with salt and black pepper and pan-seared to achieve a charred, aromatic crust while keeping the interior tender. Thin shavings of black truffle were tucked around the meat and they released a rich aroma. This was accompanied by a side of flake salt and a sauce of red wine reduction.

The final course was a dessert featuring a spherical dark chocolate shell surrounding panna cotta with viscous caramel. The chocolate surface was dusted with sea salt to add depth. Its glossy, crisp appearance suggested that a gentle tap with a spoon would cause the silky caramel sauce to spill out.

Because that silver-haired demon had beaten them to it, Lance and Hyperion had been unable to order the higher-end dishes, so they had to settle for a few standard items. Even so, the presentation alone was enough to demonstrate the respect this branch of the Demon King’s Bestowed Restaurant held for both the food and its patrons.

Hyperion gazed at the dishes on the table, wondering what Lance was planning. She whispered a reminder, "Lance, you are not allowed to summon things here."

In this restaurant, there was a rule that was akin to a "no pets allowed" policy. No one was permitted to summon familiars or beasts. Now that he couldn’t use the Poet of Boundless Love, his trump card, the vast majority of Lance’s strategies were rendered ineffective. He could not even instigate a conflict through verbal provocation. Even if Lance had wanted to engage in psychological warfare, his hands were effectively tied.

"Hyperion, as long as we abide by the rules here, it should be fine, right? I’d like to film an educational promotional video for the audience watching the broadcast back in the real world. It will be one centered on the theme that 'cherishing food is honorable, while extravagance and waste are shameful.'"

Lance’s voice was filled with genuine sincerity. In truth, he didn't care at all about the silver-haired demon's earlier, slightly hostile behavior. His sole concern was that the demon's decadent lifestyle, characterized by lavish indulgence and endless rounds of drinking, might negatively influence the young people watching the livestream back home.

As a team that served as a model of civilized conduct, it was essential for them to lead by example. They needed to convey positive, healthy values and set a good precedent.

"You’re going to..." A sense of foreboding welled up in Hyperion, but before she could finish her sentence, she realized Lance had already begun to act. For some reason, the color in his face had drained away in an instant.

Lance raised his hand and called out softly, "Excuse me, Manager."

The manager walked briskly toward them with a practiced, worldly air. Compared to the silver-haired demon who had the entire restaurant on edge, Lance and Hyperion were clearly much easier to deal with.

Lance looked at the manager, his hand trembling as he held up his glass. "I’m sorry, Manager, but I’m feeling a bit of discomfort in my chest. Do you have any drinks that could warm me up?"

His voice sounded pained and hoarse, like a wounded beast trying to mask a chronic ailment.

"Certainly. Please wait a moment." The manager nodded, took the empty glass from Lance, and walked toward the liquor cabinet in the distance to prepare the requested drink.

Lance appeared to be someone suffering from a physical impairment. His hands shook as he held his cutlery, and he let out low, pained moans while he ate. In the human world, such pronounced traits might have invited mockery from ill-mannered children, who might mimic the way a disabled person moved or acted. Such behavior was truly despicable.

However, one rarely encountered such boorish demons in a high-end establishment in the Demon Kingdom.

Over at a long table on the other side of the restaurant, the silver-haired demon cast a sidelong glance at Lance. His lips curled into a smile that held a mix of disdain and a hint of pity. He spared a brief, shallow glance at Hyperion before turning his gaze away to focus once more on his own lavish feast.

That Radiant Demon was weak and feeble, a pathetic wretch who required the pity and care of his female companion. Even after graduation, he would amount to nothing more than a nobody in the Demon Kingdom, unworthy of the spotlight.

The silver-haired demon tilted his wine bottle slightly, letting the deep crimson liquid flow slowly into his glass like a thin red thread. The look of impatience on his face faded, replaced by an expression of pure, satisfied enjoyment. To him, Lance’s presence was merely a joke that offered a brief bout of amusement. Ultimately, it was just a fleeting encounter.

It was quickly eclipsed by the dishes he had eaten and the wine he had drunk. The atmosphere in the restaurant settled into a calm stillness, resembling a black treasure chest where only small lights twinkled like diamonds.

Cutlery and glassware rested upon the black tablecloths. Small menus stood at each table, while the diners mostly remained silent or spoke in hushed tones.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass walls lay the nightscape of Purgatory City. Lights streaked across the sky like falling stars, and the air was thick with the mingled aromas of different foods, creating an atmosphere of mysterious elegance.

Amid this cinematic tableau, Lance seized a moment when no one was looking. Silently, he cast a few healing spells on the silver-haired demon. Instantly, a sudden, searing pain caused his victim, who had been savoring his meal with elegance, to grimace violently. His hand began to tremble, and a low moan of agony escaped his lips.

Lance then proceeded to mimic the demon's state, perfectly synchronizing his movements and sounds, trembling as he held his spoon and letting out moans that matched the exact same rhythm and frequency.

The silver-haired demon realized what was happening. Lance was messing with him using non-offensive magic and even deliberately mocking him by imitating his distress. The demon had originally intended to ignore the Radiant Demon, but he hadn't expected the demon to be foolish enough to actively pick a fight.

He would make sure that the consequences were severe.

Just then, the restaurant manager had walked back and witnessed the entire scene, and he froze in his tracks. He looked at the silver-haired demon, then at Lance. Both demons appeared to be physically impaired, with their movements and voices almost perfectly synchronized. Suddenly, he strode briskly over to the silver-haired demon!

The manager delivered a slap to the silver-haired demon's head, sternly shouting, "Stop mocking and making fun of a disabled demon!"

The blow knocked the silver-haired demon's head sharply to the side with a loud crack. Insulting other customers was strictly forbidden in this restaurant!

In the distance, Lance continued to let his hand tremble nonchalantly, acting as if he hadn't noticed the silver-haired demon who had just collapsed on the spot. He remained focused solely on the task at hand, dining with an indomitable spirit despite his physical impairment.

No matter how one looked at it, it was the silver-haired demon who had been imitating the truly disabled Lance.

Lance finally murmured this slogan with a look of serene satisfaction, "Cherish food and do not be wasteful. It starts with the little things."

Like that, his public service announcement had come to an end.

Hyperion’s eyelid twitched uncontrollably. She had ultimately underestimated just how low this guy could stoop with his utter lack of humanity!