Chapter 18 (Patreon)

“Well, obviously.”

Shoko Ieiri had practically dragged him all the way to the front of the shop.

Ragnar Kagenou stood there stiffly, staring up at the signboard hanging over the entrance.

The bold red lettering looked less like a restaurant name and more like a death sentence.

A mapo specialty shop.

Just looking at it made him feel like he was standing at the entrance to hell.

He swallowed.

“How about... we forget this ever happened?”

He slowly took a step back.

“I don’t think I need to challenge my weaknesses like this.”

The moment he tried to turn around and flee, Shoko grabbed the back of his collar.

“Now, Ragnar.”

Her tone was calm.

Too calm.

“You should know something first.”

She leaned in slightly, speaking like she was explaining the rules of some urban legend.

“The owner here is incredibly particular about customers.”

“I heard that if someone is meant to eat here, they’ll be dragged in no matter what. But if they’re not worthy, the owner won’t serve them even if they collapse from hunger right outside the door.”

Ragnar didn’t even hesitate.

“Then let me starve.”

“No.”

Her answer came instantly.

At that exact moment, the owner stepped out from inside the shop.

He wore the expression of a man who had long since transcended ordinary human emotion.

“I’m the manager here,” he said. “You can call me Mapo.”

Ragnar stared at him.

Even his name was just Mapo.

There was no escape from this place.

Mapo folded his arms.

“You’re in luck. Today happens to be a special occasion, so I’ll be serving anyone who comes in.”

Shoko’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Hear that, Ragnar? We’re eating here.”

Ragnar looked like a man whose soul had already left his body.

“I see,” he said weakly. “That’s... deeply unfortunate.”

Mapo gave him a knowing look.

“You seem to have some kind of misunderstanding. Some things can only be understood by experiencing them yourself.”

Ragnar’s instincts screamed at him.

Every survival sense he had was going off at once.

This was bad.

No, this was fatal.

But before he could resist, Shoko pulled him inside and made him sit at the counter.

Mapo stood behind it, calm and dignified.

“It’s a little spicy,” he said. “But not dangerous.”

Ragnar turned and looked at Shoko.

She looked amused.

Way too amused.

Mapo picked up a notepad.

“What would you like?”

Shoko answered without a second of hesitation.

“The spiciest ramen you have.”

“I understand.”

Ragnar looked at her with genuine admiration.

That wasn’t courage anymore.

That was a cry for help disguised as confidence.

Not long after, Mapo set down a bowl of mapo tofu ramen in front of her.

The surface was covered in such an intense red that it looked like it might ignite on its own.

Shoko picked up her chopsticks.

“Alright. Let’s eat.”

She took one bite.

And then—

Thud.

She collapsed face-first into the bowl.

Ragnar shot to his feet.

“F-fuck?!”

His entire body went rigid.

“I came to the wrong place.”

He turned on the spot and started for the exit.

Immediately, Mapo’s voice came from behind him.

“It seems you haven’t ordered yet, customer.”

Ragnar froze.

At some point, Mapo had already moved behind him without making a sound.

Ragnar forced a smile.

“I just have a very bad feeling about this, so I think it’d be best if I left.”

Mapo said nothing.

Ragnar looked at him.

Then at the door.

Then back at him.

“...I can’t leave, can I?”

Silence.

That silence told him everything.

With the resignation of a condemned man, Ragnar sat back down beside Shoko’s motionless body.

Mapo resumed cooking as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Generally speaking,” he said, “when unusual things occur, the appropriate response is to do something unusual in return... and observe the change.”

Ragnar stared at him.

There was definitely some kind of philosophy in there.

Unfortunately, he was too scared to process it.

After a short pause, Ragnar raised a hand.

“Then I’ll be specific.”

He pointed at the kitchen.

“No mapo tofu in the mapo ramen.”

“And give me the mildest thing on the menu.”

Even now, the steam coming off Shoko’s ramen looked threatening.

Mapo nodded once.

“Understood.”

A short while later, he returned with Ragnar’s order.

Ragnar looked down.

It was still the same terrifying extra-spicy mapo ramen.

He slowly raised his eyes.

Mapo met his stare without even blinking.

“You asked for something different from usual, didn’t you?”

Then he smiled with a confidence that bordered on cruelty.

“Don’t worry. You’ll understand what’s different once you eat it.”

Ragnar stared at the bowl in silence.

Then he tried one last thing.

“In that case... a glass of water, please.”

“No problem.”

Mapo immediately brought him a glass of ice water.

It looked perfectly normal.

Clear.

Cold.

Merciful, even.

Ragnar took a breath.

Then he picked up the chopsticks and faced the bowl like a man entering battle.

“Mere ramen...”

He took a bite.

And instantly—

Hiss—!

His entire soul nearly left his body.

It was so spicy that his vision blurred on the spot.

This wasn’t food.

This was an assassination attempt.

“It’s fine...”

He gritted his teeth and kept going, eyes watering.

“I can still handle it...!”

He couldn’t stop now.

If he stopped, he knew—truly knew—he would never recover.

Even a splash of chili oil on his finger felt like it was burning through his skin.

But he kept eating.

Bit by bit.

One mouthful after another.

Almost there.

Almost done—

Then Mapo spoke.

“Have a drink.”

Ragnar, already burning alive from the inside out, didn’t question it.

He grabbed the glass of ice water and drank it all in one gulp.

For a single moment, it felt heavenly.

Cold.

Refreshing.

Relief.

Then—

His expression froze.

Wait.

No.

That taste was wrong.

Snap!

The glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.

Ragnar grabbed his throat.

“So spicy—! What the hell is this?!”

Mapo looked deeply satisfied.

“Mapo water.”

He said it like he was unveiling a work of art.

“A new transparent beverage. Quite popular lately.”

“In order to keep up with the times, I thought I’d create one myself.”

And that was how this colorless, odorless, crystal-clear liquid had been born.

A condensed weapon of pure chili.

Mapo folded his arms.

“Ten lotus blossoms. One remains.”

Ragnar stared at him in disbelief.

“What does that even mean?”

“Gather nine lotus blossoms.”

“No, forget the metaphor—”

Ragnar slammed a hand on the counter.

“You set me up!”

And then—

Thud.

He collapsed face-first into the ramen.

At the very end, only one thought echoed through his fading consciousness.

I’ve done enough...

There’s no need to fight anymore...

When Ragnar opened his eyes again, it was already the next day.

Cold.

Unfamiliar.

Sterile.

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds.

“...Huh. An unfamiliar ceiling.”

He sat up abruptly, still half-dazed, and looked around.

White walls.

Curtains.

The scent of disinfectant hanging in the air.

So he was in a hospital.

“Not bad,” a cold, clear voice said from nearby. “You’ve got the best constitution out of everyone brought in this time.”

Ragnar turned his head.

A doctor stood there, flipping through a chart.

The doctor gave him a brief glance.

“Well, since you’re awake, there’s probably nothing seriously wrong.”

After that, the doctor left the room as casually as he had appeared.

Ragnar sat there for another few seconds, then dragged himself out of bed and headed to the reception desk to finish the discharge procedures.

Tch. I knew I never should’ve come here.

Nothing good ever starts with being dragged to a place that specializes in mapo tofu.

At the same time, in the women’s ward—

Shoko slowly opened her eyes.

“Ugh... where...?”

She sat up on the hospital bed, still groggy.

The ward was so quiet it felt abandoned.

She got up, walked to the door, and immediately noticed a hospital bed lying sideways in the way, blocking part of the exit.

After pushing it aside, she stepped out into the hallway.

Still quiet.

Almost eerily so.

She walked a little farther and arrived near the emergency stairwell.

It looked like there was something inside—

Just then—

A hand tapped her shoulder.

Shoko nearly jumped.

“What are you doing, Shoko?”

She spun around.

Ragnar was standing there.

He had apparently come up to check on her.

Shoko let out a long breath.

“Seriously... it’s just you.”

“You scared me.”

Ragnar gave her a flat look.

“You’re way too jumpy.”

Then he looked her over.

“Still, you seem mostly fine now.”

Shoko blinked, then rubbed at her forehead.

“Oh... right.”

Her expression shifted as her memory slowly returned.

“I remember eating ramen... and after that... nothing.”

Ragnar glanced at her.

Of course she didn’t remember.

She had gone down in a single bite.

That was less “eating” and more “being defeated instantly.”

“It’d be more surprising if you did remember,” he said.

After that, Shoko learned that there were barely any patients on that floor, which was why the place had felt so empty.

Ragnar had also brought something with him.

He held it out to her.

“Here.”

Shoko looked down.

A bouquet.

Her eyes widened.

“Flowers?”

Her voice caught for a second.

“You actually brought me flowers?”

In an instant, her cheeks turned bright red.

She looked up at him, trying and failing to keep her composure.

“Wait... do those have some special meaning?”

Ragnar looked genuinely surprised.

“Oh? You knew?”

That only made Shoko’s face heat up even more.

Even so, she forced herself to stay calm.

At least on the surface.

“Even if you’re not bad,” she said, trying to sound composed, “I still think we need to talk first...”