Chapter 192: Youth is Not Just About Appearance, But Also the Heart
At this moment, Ren deliberately chose not to bother with Nakiri Mana and the others. He understood a fundamental rule of social etiquette: never get actively involved in other people's family matters unless asked.
Family matters are called "family matters" precisely because they are the private, often messy affairs of that specific bloodline.
No matter how close you are to them, or how much you helped, there is a line one should not cross during their moments of vulnerability.
So, Ren sat in the corner of the shop, watching a movie on a tablet with Lucifer. Cerberus, having eaten her fill, was also huddled nearby, her three heads resting comfortably on her paws like a pile of fluffy pillows.
It is worth mentioning that Lucifer was completely holding onto Ren's arm while watching. Her grip was tight, her nails digging slightly into his sleeve.
This wasn't because she wanted to act spoiled or staked her claim in front of the other women. It was purely because she saw an "acquaintance" on the screen.
Just moments ago, when Ren was scrolling through the library looking for a movie to kill time, Lucifer had spotted the cover image of a familiar well-dwelling spirit—Sister Sadako.
Instantly, the memory of the girl she saw in the back mountains of the theme park earlier that day flashed through her mind. Terror gripped her.
"D-Don't turn it off... but don't let her come out!" Lucifer had squeaked, burying her face in Ren's shoulder while simultaneously peeking at the screen with one crimson eye.
Every time this happened, Lucifer always conveniently forgot that she was the very powerful Queen of Hell, a being who ruled over legions of demons far more terrifying than a vengeful spirit in a white dress.
Ren just smiled and shook his head, adjusting the tablet's angle so they could both see. It was obvious that Lucifer was genuinely scared. She had even deliberately turned her head to look behind her several times, checking the shadowy corners of the restaurant, afraid that a disheveled Sister Sadako would crawl out from under a table and take her away to a damp well.
However, Ren didn't dislike Lucifer's behavior. Seeing this high-and-mighty Demon Queen act like a frightened little girl was, one might say, very cute. It triggered a protective instinct that Ren didn't mind indulging.
Cerberus, on the other hand, didn't think so much. She just sat next to Ren, her ears twitching occasionally as she watched the flickering images on the computer screen, treating the horror movie with the same casual interest she would show a squirrel.
As for why it was a computer tablet sitting there? The reason was simple: Ren and the others hadn't taken it with them when they left for the airport earlier; they had just left it on the table. In this dimensional space, security wasn't really an issue. Anyway, no one uninvited came here. During the day, the number of people passing by this specific alleyway probably didn't exceed ten in a whole week.
And those who did enter were all acquaintances, so Ren naturally didn't have so many paranoid thoughts about theft. This relaxed atmosphere was fine, but the shop door still had to be closed eventually.
The atmosphere in the corner was cozy, a sharp contrast to the emotional heavy-lifting happening at the main dining table where the Nakiri family was reconciling.
Just as Lucifer was holding Ren's arm, occasionally looking up at him to ensure he was still there as a shield against the ghosts, she suddenly froze.
Ding-a-ling.
The bell on the door chimed.
Lucifer's mood instantly soured. She puffed out her cheeks. She was finally being brave once, enjoying this intimate moment of shared fear, and a customer had to come now?
Ren turned his head, looking towards the entrance. He paused for a second, recognizing the silhouette, then said with a welcoming smile, "Saitama, it looks like you just finished work?"
The person who walked in was indeed Saitama.
He was still dressed in his usual "hero" attire—a bright, mustard-yellow jumpsuit that looked like a full-body pajama, accompanied by red rubber gloves and red boots. A white cape fluttered slightly behind him from the draft of the opening door.
He still had the same incredibly simple art style—oval eyes, simple lines—and a face that looked like it had been drawn in five seconds compared to the high-definition detail of everyone else in the room.
But what truly attracted attention was his head.
It was bald. Perfectly, smoothly, reflectively bald. Under the warm lights of the restaurant, it shone with a brilliance that rivaled a polished gem.
"Pfft—!"
As soon as Saitama entered, Lanterby, who was drinking water, almost choked. She slammed her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently.
Courage and Decora were also biting their lips, holding back their laughter with sheer willpower. In their eyes... no, in anyone's eyes who wasn't used to him, Saitama's visual style was jarringly funny. He looked like a doodle that had wandered into a Renaissance painting.
Even Nakiri Mana, who had just been crying tears of emotional release, felt the corners of her lips curling up at this moment. The comedic timing of his entrance was impeccable.
Senzaemon Nakiri paused, recognizing the young man from previous encounters in this strange cross-dimensional hub. He wiped his face with a napkin and said with a boisterous smile, "Oh! It's Saitama! Just finished work? You look exhausted."
Saitama nodded, his expression blank and listless. He walked over to the counter, scratching his cheek. "Hmm, old man, why do I feel my head is particularly cool today? Is the AC on too high? Don't I already have no hair to insulate it?"
Hearing this deadpan delivery, Lanterby and Anne couldn't help it anymore. A few giggles escaped their hands.
Senzaemon Nakiri chuckled, his mood lightened significantly. "Saitama! You should be... Never mind. You'll know when you look in the mirror when you get back. It might just be the draft."
"Eh? Alright," Saitama shrugged, unbothered. "But there shouldn't be much change, maybe I'm overthinking it. But old man, you have quite a few people here today~"
He looked around the room, his simple eyes scanning the elite members of the WGO and the legendary chefs. To him, they were just people.
"Hahaha! Indeed!" Senzaemon gestured proudly. "This is my daughter and her staff, and these two scoundrels are former graduates of our school."
Saitama nodded, acknowledging them with a slight bow. Then, he looked at Nakiri Mana. He stared at her with his listless, dead-fish eyes for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the empty bowl of porridge in front of her.
A small, simple smile appeared on his face. "Old man, it looks like your daughter is fine now. She ate. Congratulations..."
Hearing this, everyone in the room felt a warmth bloom in their chests. They knew Saitama was a genuinely kind-hearted person. But why did his expression make him look even funnier when he smiled? It was a smile of pure, uncomplicated goodwill.
[Akarin's Note: Saitama is the protagonist of One Punch Man, a hero who is invincible but bored, and suffers from hair loss due to his intense training.]
After Saitama finished speaking, he turned his attention to the person who mattered most right now: the chef.
"Shopkeeper Ren," Saitama asked, rubbing his stomach. "Can I order now? I skipped lunch chasing a monster across Z-City."
Ren stood up, gently disengaging from Lucifer's grip. "Of course, anytime. What are you in the mood for?"
Saitama hesitated. He stood there for a while, tapping his chin with a red-gloved finger. "I still don't know what to eat. The menu is too big. Shopkeeper Ren, do you have any good recommendations? Something cheap but filling?"
Ren thought for a moment, assessing Saitama's fatigue and his usual preferences. "Still rice? You usually prefer rice dishes."
"Hmm! Yes, rice is good. If possible, no particularly spicy dishes today. My stomach feels a bit empty."
Ren nodded. He visualized the ingredients he had left in the kitchen. "Alright, I know what you should eat. A hearty, savory stir-fry over rice. What would you like to drink?"
"Plain water."
"Still the same style as always," Ren noted with a smile.
"Professional issue," Saitama sighed. "Drinking soda or alcohol delays things if a monster appears. Water is best."
Ren nodded respectfully. "Still as dedicated as ever. Please wait a moment, your dish will be ready quickly."
"Eh? I'm really looking forward to it..." Saitama mumbled, taking a seat at the counter, looking like a man who had found an oasis.
Ren said no more. He turned and walked back towards the corner where Lucifer was sitting. He smiled down at her and asked, "Lucifer, do you and Cerberus want some late-night snack? You didn't seem to eat much earlier because of the excitement."
Lucifer blinked. She thought seriously for a moment, weighing her desire for food against her desire to stay watching the movie. Just as she was about to speak, she heard Cerberus shout from beside her, as expected.
"Meat! I want meat!"
Lucifer froze just as she was about to speak. Before she could get a word in, Ren nodded and turned away.
He actually just left! He left her there!
This stinky man only knows how to bully me! Does he not care about my opinion?!
Lucifer decided to be tough for once. She huffed, stood up directly, and stomped her way towards the kitchen, following Ren. She was going to give him a piece of her mind.
Courage and Decora, meanwhile, watched this unfold. They leaned forward, looking at the open kitchen with expressions as if they intended to study the culinary techniques of a master, but in reality, they were watching the drama.
"Ren! I..." Lucifer burst into the kitchen.
Ren was already tying his apron. He turned around, holding a basket of vegetables. "Hmm? Lucifer, why are you here?"
"I came to..." Lucifer started, puffing her chest out.
"Perfect timing," Ren interrupted smoothly, shoving the basket into her hands. "Go wash the chili and carrots~ I need them for Saitama's dish."
"Oh..." Lucifer instinctively took the basket. Then she paused. "Wait! I have something to tell you! I am not your kitchen maid!"
Ren turned to the sink, picking up a knife. "By the way, don't touch your eyes after washing the chili~ It stings."
Lucifer stood there, holding a bright green pepper and a vibrant orange carrot. She looked at Ren's back, then at the vegetables. Her pouting face was a picture of conflict.
This stinky man is doing it on purpose!
With him saying that so casually, treating her help as a natural occurrence, how could she rebel? If she refused now, it would seem petty.
So Lucifer, naturally, chose to let Ren off the hook again. She walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and began to wash the vegetables with aggressive diligence. Although such situations occurred more than a dozen times a day, this did not affect Lucifer continuing the cycle the next time.
Inside the kitchen, the sounds of cooking began to rise.
Tat-tat-tat-tat.
The sound of Ren slicing the pork was rhythmic and fast. He cut the meat into thin, uniform slivers. Then came the carrots and peppers, sliced into matching julienne strips.
Whoosh.
The gas burner roared to life, a jet of blue flame licking the bottom of the wok. Ren swirled oil around the pan.
Sizzle!
The meat hit the hot wok, releasing a savory cloud of steam. The aroma of garlic, ginger, and scallions quickly followed, filling the kitchen and drifting out into the dining hall. It wasn't the overpowering spice of the earlier dishes, but a homely, comforting scent of soy sauce, sugar, and stir-fried pork.
Courage watched the silhouette of the tall chef and the petite Demon Queen working side-by-side.
"Uh..." Courage adjusted her glasses, her voice low. "Should I say Mr. Ren is impressive for commanding a Demon Queen, or should I say I'm a bit envious of that domestic atmosphere?"
Hearing Courage's words, Decora nodded blankly, her heavy earrings swaying. "Good heavens... am I so without dignity?"
She felt a strange pang. It was a bit ridiculous, she thought. She was a top-tier WGO officer. But if it were her in that kitchen... helping the man she liked wash vegetables...
What hammer? Decora thought, her mind going blank. I haven't even been in love, I can't even imagine the scene properly.
Senzaemon Nakiri looked at Courage and Decora in front of him. He saw the longing in their eyes. Then, he silently glanced at his daughter, Nakiri Mana. His eyes became complex, filled with a faint envy and a deep longing for the days when his own family table was this simple and warm.
Senzaemon Nakiri thought for a moment, wanting to speak to his daughter, to bridge the gap of years. But in the end, he gave up. Tonight had been enough progress.
"Hey, Old man," Joichiro Yukihira's voice broke his reverie. The wandering chef held up a bottle of high-quality sake he had raided from Ren's shelf. "Stop drinking juice and water. Come have a drink?"
Senzaemon looked at his former student, then at Gin Dojima. "Just you two rascals drinking with me? Do you think you can handle me?"
Gin Dojima laughed, loosening his tie. He grabbed three glasses. "Old man, don't overestimate yourself too much. There's more than just one bottle here! Watch what you say, or you'll be sleeping under the table tonight!"
Senzaemon Nakiri snorted coldly, his competitive spirit igniting. "Hah! Just you two? Come! Today, this old man will let you know what true drinking capacity is! I was drinking sake before you were born!"
"Come!"
"Let's do this!"
Their voices overlapped in a spirited challenge.
Clink!
The three glasses met in the air with a crisp sound.
The WGO members watched the three legends of the culinary world laughing and drinking like college students. It proved a simple truth.
No matter how old a man gets, no matter how much white is in his hair or how many titles precede his name, every man has a young heart buried inside. There is a past self, that once high-spirited youth who believed he could conquer the world, waiting to be let out.
While still young, while there's still time, one should embrace it. Youth is fleeting, so don't waste it~
Because youth is often not just about appearance and physical fitness. It is also about the heart.
[Akarin Note:
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