On his way to greet the customer, or maybe reinforcement, the door slammed open. The sound woke everyone around the dining hall, shoulders tense once again and body preparing for another fight.
Ludwig could only chuckled dryly looking at them. Truly, Checkpoint hadn't returned to normal. And to make it back to normal, first he might need to fix the interior.
But with how chaotic the fights were, it was simply impossible for him to just revert time inside the dining area. After all, doing that would also mean making everyone who eats spit their food back outside.
"Benimaru, Souei." Ludwig greeted the new two comers who had their weapons ready.
Benimaru looked at him before his gaze went past through his shoulders. "It seems like the situation didn't escalate further."
"Fortunately." Ludwig said. "How about the situation over there?"
Benimaru sheathed his katana back and crossed his arms. "It's a success. Though, we probably need two or three hogs next time. One is simply not enough for everyone."
The Dragonewt from Tempest who sat alone closest to the door perked up. "There's a feast at Tempest?"
Benimaru looked at the Dragonewt and chuckled. "It seems like you are unlucky."
Ludwig chuckled, even Souei let out a snort.
Despair painted the Dragonewt's face. He crashed down on the table and started to murmur. "I came here to get a few drinks because I got a day off, but ended up fighting against humans. Yet, there's a free feast in Tempest? The injustice!"
Ludwig moved his gaze from the Dragonewt back to Benimaru. In a low voice, he whispered. "How about Kushina? She didn't hear anything, right?"
Rather than answering, he just looked at Souei.
"She didn't hear anything." Soeui's voice slithered through the noise. "We made sure no one talked about it at the feast."
Ludwig nodded his head. "Good, and thank you."
It was a carefully laid plan. Everything was talked about before they went to Tempest. One of them being preventing Kushina from hearing anything if something happened.
If she heard it from other people, she would surely rush back and unleash her anger towards Konoha. Well, nothing would change much even if she heard it from Konoha, but at least, she wouldn't explode on them.
"How about Claire and Rimuru? They are still asleep?" Ludwig asked.
"They are." Benimaru nodded. "Though, I estimate Claire-sama will wake up in a few hours."
"I see." Ludwig nodded.
If she really woke up in a few hours, would it be fine to ask her to negotiate right away?
A few hours meant tonight. It meant fatigue, irritation, and the kind of post-evolution certainty that made powerful people think the world was simplest when it was obedient. Ludwig knew that look. He'd worn it before back when he still believed strength was a substitute for patience.
If he called Claire into a negotiation the moment she opened her eyes, it would look like this: she would walk into the dining hall, take one glance at the wrecked interior, take one glance at the old man in Kage robes, and decide diplomacy was a chore she didn't feel like doing.
And then she would make a point.
Not necessarily with violence, but with terms sharp enough to cut pride like outrageous compensation, or binding clauses that read like shackles.
Konoha would swallow it for the moment, because Hiruzen was trapped and their people were bruised, but the bitterness would ferment the second he stepped back into his village. It would turn into whispers, then a council meeting, then Danzo smiling behind bandages, then an 'inevitable incident.'
And the next time the door opened, it wouldn't be Hiruzen coming through to talk. It would be someone sent to fix the embarrassment.
But if Ludwig delayed the negotiation, if he pushed it back a day, two days, even a week, then Hiruzen would have time to regain his footing. Time to run possibilities through that quiet, calculating mind. Time to think of ways to get more, pay less, concede only what could be undone later. Time to send a message home in code and have his council decide what story this becomes.
And time meant the world moved. Leverage decays. Rumors spread. Risk multiplies. Worse, if he waited, he'd be waiting while keeping Hiruzen here. Detaining a Hokage inside a restaurant wasn't just awkward. It was dancing with dangers.
And in the first place, where would Ludwig even put him?
The dining hall was an insult. The staff deserved their space back. The patrons deserved to eat without a world leader sitting in the corner like a warning sign.
But he also didn't have a proper holding suite. Not one built for someone who could—on a bad day—turn a wall into a coffin with a hand sign.
He could put Hiruzen in the back room. But it's too small. Too close to the back rooms. Too easy for staff to stumble into. But it would be too degrading, and that kind of treatment never made negotiations smoother.
Yet, he also couldn't send him out.
Not yet.
If he let Hiruzen walk back through the door before Claire and Rimuru were looped in, then Ludwig would be gambling everything on the old man's goodwill and his ability to keep Danzo leashed.
Hiruzen might mean it, but politics didn't run on meaning. It ran on pressure.
If I let him go, wouldn't I lose the only proof that Konoha crossed the line?
Because that was another part of it: the optics.
Right now, everyone in the room had seen Konoha try to take staff. They'd seen the retaliation. They'd seen the Hokage sitting under detention, alive. That was a narrative Ludwig could control. Barely, but it was there.
If he released Hiruzen too quickly, people would say Ludwig was frightened or bribed or compromised. If he kept him too long, people would say Ludwig was cruel. Or that Checkpoint had become a prison.
Either way, the story would grow enough teeth to bite him in the ass.
And then there was Rimuru.
He was sure the Slime would just nod his head and get along with it. After all, that's what Tempest does the best. Not agreeing, but trading.
However, the people behind him would surely move. Benimaru and Souei wouldn't just sit still when there's a chance this trade could become something else entirely. Not inter-dimensional wars, not yet, probably would never happen, but dangerous nonetheless.
Ludwig thanked the gods the door connected to Tempest at its current timeline. If it's later when Rimuru got demons like Diablo under his wings, it would turn into disaster.
Seems like… I have to do two negotiations for this matter. Ludwig sighed.
The next one would happen after Claire woke up. Not too heavy, Claire wouldn't be allowed to dictate anything. Just a follow-up about what he and the Hokage just talked about a few minutes ago.
Once that is done, another meeting will take place in a few days. A formal one when papers will be laid, inks will be seeping through pens, and signs would be exchanged. But not without the Hokage signing a contract about no Root, no Anbu, no surveillance, no retaliation, no using Kushina as bargaining chip policy inside the Checkpoint.
Ludwig nodded his head, satisfied with his own conclusion. He looked at Benimaru and opened his mouth. "Can I ask you some favour?"
Benimaru's wandering eyes snapped back into him before he nodded.
"Can one of you return to Tempest and tell whoever is close to Claire to tell her that I want her back here as soon as she wakes up?" Ludwig said.
One of Benimaru's brows raised upwards. "I presume for a negotiation?"
"Indeed." Ludwig nodded.
Benimaru looked at him squarely before adding. "After someone evolves, they always have the urge to blast things away. Not because their mind was clouded, but by sheer power coursing through their body. Do you think it will be okay? From what I know Claire-sama is…"
Ludwig chuckled and nodded. "I know that well, Rimuru told me before." He lied. "But, I still need her. If she becomes overconfident, I will keep her in check. Heck, Ilea is here, I don't think she would act like that in front of her."
"I see…" Benimaru's eyes went past his shoulders. Even without him looking back, he knew who his eyes landed on. "She's indeed a dangerous one. Then, I'll go. Souei will be here just in case."
Ludwig nodded to Benimaru before doing the same towards Souei. "Thank you, both of you."
Just like that, Benimaru left the restaurant while Souei blended with the darkness. His sense and eyes could still see him, many of the patrons as well. But, to the unsuspecting one, he was nowhere. Reminding him of a certain playful 1000 years vampire from his party.
Ludwig turned and headed back toward the table in the corner.
Ilea was exactly where she'd been, still lounging like she owned the chair and the air around it. She had her mug, her grin, and the kind of relaxed posture that only came from being absolutely certain she could kill anything in the room if she had to.
Hiruzen sat opposite her, calm as stone. Tea still untouched. The old man's composure was a statement in itself.
Ludwig stopped at the edge of their table and didn't bother sitting.
"Ilea." He called.
She glanced up, grin already returning. "Yeah, chef?"
Ludwig tilted his head toward the side hallway, away from the listening patrons and away from Hiruzen's table. "Walk with me."
Ilea's eyebrow rose. "That serious?"
"Yeah." Ludwig said.
She pushed herself up with an exaggerated sigh, like he'd interrupted her leisure, but she moved immediately. Her ash followed her like a lazy cloak as she fell into step beside him.
They walked far enough that the dining room noise softened into background murmur. Ludwig stopped near the cracked beam, partly because it was quieter there, partly because he couldn't stop looking at it. Seeing it hurt in a way he didn't like to admit.
Ilea leaned back against the wall, arms folding. "Alright, what's the problem?"
Ludwig rubbed at his forehead. "First of all, you know why Claire goes to Tempest, right?"
Ilea nodded.
"Benimaru thinks she'll wake up in a few hours." Ludwig went on. "And I need her here when she does. But I need her here… controlled."
Ilea's eyes narrowed slightly, the humor fading a touch. "You're worried she'll turn this into a massacre."
"That's an aftereffect of evolving. I am worried she'll turn it into humiliation." Ludwig corrected. "And humiliation is just delayed violence."
Ilea snorted. "You're saying Konoha will get butthurt and come back later."
"Yes." Ludwig said flatly. "Not Hiruzen, maybe. But others. Anyone who dumb enough to believe their pride was something so sacred it couldn't be tarnished."
He exhaled. "I can manage terms. I can manage leverage. But Claire's going to see this place wrecked, staff threatened, and a Hokage sitting like he owns the table. She'll want to make him regret breathing."
Ilea's mouth twitched. "Can't blame her."
"I'm not blaming her." Ludwig said. "I'm trying to keep this from becoming a cycle."
Ilea's gaze slid toward the dining room, toward Hiruzen's corner. "So what do you want from me?"
Ludwig met her eyes. "Help me rein her in as her friend just for the first meeting. The one when she's freshly awake and feeling invincible."
Ilea stared at him for a beat. Then she laughed.
"Chef." She said, "You know who you're asking, right? I'm not exactly the 'calm mediator' type."
"I know." Ludwig said. "That's why I'm asking."
Her grin returned, slower this time. "You want me to be the bigger threat in the room."
"I want you to be the reminder that there's someone here who doesn't care about her aura, her titles, or her ego. Someone who'll call her on it if she starts swinging terms like a club." Ludwig corrected.
Ilea shifted her weight, ash curling around her boots like it was thinking too.
"Won't be easy." She admitted. "If Claire's became anything like you're implying, she'll become even more stubborn than she usually is. She wouldn't like being told 'no.'"
"She wouldn't." Ludwig said.
Ilea's eyes glinted. "But when it comes to power. "I can play that game."
Ludwig let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Ilea lifted a finger, pointing it at him like a warning. "Just so we're clear. If she starts doing something stupid, I'm not going to politely debate her."
"I'm not asking you to." Ludwig said. "I'm asking you to stop her before she turns this into a grudge that lasts a decade."
Ilea's grin turned wolfish. "Fine. "I'll keep her from going full contract-demon mode."
Ludwig blinked. "That's a weird way to describe it."
"Hey." Ilea said, shrugging. "You're the one who said she'll write humiliation as deterrence. That's like… legal violence."
"Fair." Ludwig admitted.
The two of them parted as they reached a deal. But just as Ludwig thought he could finally breathe, the door opened again.
Not slammed this time. Just a careful push.
Ludwig turned his head and felt the Restaurant's hum shift into recognition.
A man stepped in wearing a white uniform, carrying a fat bundle of something in both arms. His posture was steady, familiar in the way of someone who had been through the door enough times to treat it like a street corner instead of a miracle.
Carme Norad from the Bamboo Forest.
The guy paused the moment he crossed the threshold. His eyes traveled from the warped floor, to the cracked beam, to the scorched boards, to the way patrons sat too alert.
Then he looked at Ludwig.
And his mouth opened, closed, then opened again.
"…Sir Ludwig?" He said carefully, as if the wrong tone might set off another fight. He lifted the bundle slightly. "I, uh. I brought back today's laundry. Like usual."
His gaze flicked toward the corner, toward the old man in Kage robes, then back to Ludwig with dawning disbelief.
"What…" Carme asked, voice going thin, "What happened to your restaurant?"
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