Just regular chapter~
While enjoying his freshly cooked fried chicken, Trian's eyes kept drifting to the door from time to time. He had been in this restaurant around lunch before, but never before the rush came in.
As if the staff of the restaurant was on the same page as him, they finally stopped moving about inside the kitchen and the hall. Everyone stood still, like warriors before a fight. Of course, one waitress in particular was different. She still bounced around the hall, even asking them whether they wanted to order more or not.
Ilea of course ordered more. Though whether she was really hungry or because she found the waitress cute he couldn't be sure.
Then, the rush started. Not with a fanfare. A single chime of the bell announced it.
Soft murmur of a new voice mixing into the low background hum of the restaurant. Then another. Then three at once. By the time Trian finished half of his food, the trickle had turned into a steady stream.
The numerous races from Tempest came first before anyone else. Green skin, tusked for teeth, and even those small enough they couldn't reach the table without sitting on the chair.
But before even everyone who came got the order sent to the kitchen, two squads from Shadow Hand took the table by the far wall, nodding briefly when they noticed him before pretending not to stare at Ilea.
Voices rose and fell, layered over the clatter of plates and the hiss of something hitting oil in the back. The air warmed, filling with the familiar blend of seared meat, fried batter, and whatever sauce Ludwig had decided to make the staff learn this week. Trian watched it all the way he always did during a rush. Half as a customer, half as someone who'd seen too many crowded rooms turn ugly in seconds.
Checkpoint never felt like that, though. Not yet.
"Lunch rush is starting." Kyrian muttered, following his gaze.
"Obviously," Trian said, but without much bite.
He was still tracking the flow of bodies—how many in armor, how many with the cautious posture of people used to danger—when someone who had been in the restaurant since before lunch started approached their table.
After giving them a professional smile and a shallow bow, he finally spoke. "Good afternoon. Thank you for choosing Checkpoint today. My name is Carme Norad from Bamboo Forest. I want to tell you that our Laundry Agency Bamboo Forest is offering support services on-site for the duration of lunch and dinner."
Trian raised a brow. "Support services?"
"Yes." Carme answered, hands folded in front of his uniform. "We handle garment and equipment cleaning for staff and approved customers. That includes armor, enchanted fabric, monster fluids, and foreign substances from other worlds. If it can be cleaned, we will do our best to clean it. If it can't, we will tell you and refund your money."
Ilea's eyes slid their way, amused. "You set up a laundry in another world just like that?"
"The owner, Sir Ryouma, wishes to test demand beyond Gimul." The employee replied without missing a beat. "Checkpoint is an ideal hub, and Sir Ludwig has been very cooperative. In exchange for the space, we also provide emergency cleaning support if… incidents occur."
"Blood on the floor, armor soaked in something corrosive, burned cloaks." Trian summarized.
"Exactly." The attendant nodded.
Kyrian grunted. "Efficient."
As if on cue, an Orc at a nearby table lifted a hand. The Bamboo Forest employee excused himself with another bow and walked over. A moment later, they were accepting a bundle—something bloody from what his nose could tell.
Their movement was full of familiarity. No round of questioning, no trying to haggle, the Orc just straight giving the bag to the employee. Before long, the pink-haired employee hauled the sack and left the restaurant.
"Laundry that could clean everything, huh?" Trian muttered. "Of course this restaurant would partner with someone with that kind of business."
"Smart move." Ilea chuckled as her mouth was covered by a tankard. "If a fight breaks out, at least the floor recovers faster than the idiots who started it."
He couldn't really argue with that.
For a while, everything continued along that familiar, busy rhythm. More plates. More refills. More customers. The background noise climbed to a steady roar and then evened out, the way bustling places did when everyone settled into eating and talking. Trian let the noise wash over him, eyes drifting to the door every time it chimed, half-expecting, half-dreading the moment Claire had warned him about.
But rather than uniforms Claire warned him about, what he saw walking in was more and more people he knew. The red-head noble with a pair of cats and a little dragon. The elves, Daeben, he first wary around and his wolf. And, the big guy from yesterday.
The big guy looked at their seat for a heartbeat. But he didn't do anything more, just walked to an empty seat and sat there without a care in the world.
Trian moved his gaze from the men and offered the Deaben a nod, which was reciprocated. Then, he heard Ilea's mumbling from his back.
"You know, looking at quite powerful guys like them coming one after another like that felt as if Claire not just tells you but those guys also."
Kyrian snorted while Trian just nodded his head. He once again couldn't argue with what Ilea said. When it came to someone's power, Ilea could see them even clearer than him. When he could only get the overall power of them, Ilea could see precisely where their power stood in the system of Elos.
"Now I feel sorry for anyone who will come here." Ilea said once again, her tone was filled with amusement. If someone heard it, they might think she would just stand and watch if a fight broke out.
Another chime could be heard from the door. But this time, Trian felt it. The air tightened. The usual jumble of power seeping off from residents of Tempest and other worlds was replaced by something cleaner, more disciplined, threaded and layered in a way his instincts flagged as something he never really felt.
Trian turned.
They entered in controlled order. White masks first. Porcelain, animal motifs, eyes hollow and unblinking. Trian noticed them at once from Claire's note regarding their world. ANBU. The black-ops division of Konoha.
They fanned out just enough to claim space without drawing weapons. Behind them came shinobi in flak jackets, metal plates on their foreheads catching the restaurant's warm light; the stylized leaf of Konoha gleamed sharp and certain.
But the weight in the center was simply impossible to miss.
An old man in layered robes and a hat Trian recognized from Claire's briefing. The Hokage.
With staff in hand and his back straighter than his years should allow, his presence settling over the room. Flanking or just behind him, three more signatures that felt like carved mountains: raw physical power coiled under irritated impatience, cold, cutting curiosity wrapped in a smile, and a wide, rolling well of chakra masked behind lazy posture.
The Sannin.
Trian didn't need names to match them, but they slotted into place anyway. Tsunade, ready to break something if given an excuse. Orochimaru, eyes already mapping the unfamiliar space with a predator's care. Jiraiya, casual on the surface, all humor packed away behind narrowed eyes.
But there's one resemblance that they had amidst their own facade of calm. Surprise and shock. A natural thing to occur in this restaurant; no one walked here could still be as calm as before they walked through the door.
Checkpoint's staff reacted in their usual calm and professional demeanour. No one panicked. No one ran. But positions shifted. The biggest demon waiter of the restaurant altered his path to put herself between the newcomers and the nearest cluster of oblivious regulars.
Across from Trian, Kyrian's broad shoulders relaxed instead of tensing, which for him was as good as drawing a blade. Ilea's lips curved, the kind of smile that meant she was already three steps ahead, watching for the first spark.
They were not the only ones. The redhead noble was looking at the door, eyes sharp. The dragon was already gone from anyone's sight, probably hiding in case someone needed its help while the two cats stood straight on their paws, one step closer to the crowd compared to their master.
The wolf also reacted. Its eyes now opened wide, focused. His partner mirrored it. He knew the Daeben would start firing if needed.
Trian exhaled slowly, the familiar cold clarity of an incoming incident settling into his bones.
"Well." He thought, as the Hokage and his escort crossed the threshold fully into Ludwig's domain, the door swinging shut behind them with a soft click. "So much for a quiet shift."
"Welcome to Checkpoint. Our biggest table in the house is currently occupied. And I don't think we have enough seats for everyone. Mind if I put you on the waiting list?" The demon waitress from earlier opened her mouth, her tone even and confident.
The Hokage stepped forward, a smile plastered on his face after a touch of frown graced his face. "Unfortunately, we are not here to dine. We are here to look for Kushina."
The waitress, Vilera, frowned a little before opening her mouth again. "Miss Kushina is currently not here."
"Where's she if I could ask?" The Hokage tilted his head to the side.
But then, Vilera mimicked the Hokage's movement. Down to the frown. "I believe you are informed about it. Miss Kushina herself told her boyfriend, Sir Minato, that she would be leaving for Tempest this weekend."
Trian could see the face of the three Sannins twitched slightly. He was not growing up in a noble house for nothing. It seemed like what Vilera had told them was new information for the three.
"Is that so? It seemed Minato forgot to inform me." The Hokage spoke, tone contemplative.
Lies. Trian's fingers twitched underneath the table. The old man was lying through his teeth. The purpose? It's clear.
"Nevertheless, Kushina is an important ninja in our village. Her coming and going have to go through my permission. In other words, it's illegal without it. That made whoever invited her to another world a criminal under our law." The Hokage spoke, tone steely and loud. "But since the owner of this restaurant isn't here, can you please follow me to Konoha so we can work it out? We will not harm you, we will just hold you until the owner of this restaurant returns."
They were trying to intimidate Ludwig and used his employees for negotiation. A smart move. Trian approved that.
Taking someone weak like her into custody would make Ludwig think twice about going on rampage. They might also be banking on how hospitable Ludwig was. Maybe thinking Ludwig would end up resolving it with a dialogue.
And if Ludwig decided to not save her and just held Kushina hostage? They might never have thought about it. After all, if the information that Claire gave home was correct, the Konoha top brass should know that Kushina was treated as the little sister of every regular in this restaurant. Moreover, she was free here, no one would stop her from leaving if she wanted.
So, they could win by getting Kushina back and still get someone who was clearly not human. With her there, forgotten by Ludwig, they could do anything they wanted with her.
Unfortunately for the Hokage. He slipped up. He failed to choose his words extra carefully.
A sound of a chair being pushed back and a heavy thud of feet echoed through the hall. When Trian looked at her, the floating characters on top of her head had changed. Gone was the previous title floating above her head. Now, [Queenslayer] was sitting on top of her head in his eyes.
The effect was instant. The Hokage whipped his head towards Ilea and even took a few steps back. The three people mirrored his moves, eyes went wide. Because of that, the masked Ninjas around them quickly put their hand on their weapon, stance lowering.
A murmur exploded in the restaurant. Now every patron knew something was wrong.
But before a full blown panic enveloped the restaurant, Ilea, no… Lilith opened her mouth. "From what I've been told, it's not Ludwig who invited Kushina to Tempest. It's Claire."
The fluctuation noise came to a complete still as soon as she said that. As if everyone knew that cutting her would mean his head being blown away.
On the far wall, the two squads of Shadow Hand looked at Trian. When he looked at them back, he gave them a nod. A permission.
Trian hadn't given her that information. Not deliberately. However, it seemed like Ilea also heard the careless choice of words on Hokage's side. For someone who hated politics and rather mingled with the Dark Ones in the North, she was quite observant he felt.
It seemed like Ilea had made a choice.
"She's the Head Administrator of Ravenhall and a dear friend of mine." Lilith spoke once again, the pressure multiplied. "So rather than taking a waitress who is living earnestly, why not take me with you?"
The chair beside Trian creaked once again, Kyrian was standing to his highest height. In the far table, the two squads of Shadow also made their presence known.
Trian sighed. Then he also stood up. Eyes locked on the group of people who were either ready to fight and intimidated.
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