Chapter 57 - Normal life? Not for a noble devil! (Patreon)

Most of the devils in the Underworld reacted very well to the news that I had killed Kokabiel, but in this universe it wasn't just the devil's opinion that mattered.

Sure, I had an excellent reason for having done what I did, but it had put a big target on my back.

Two weeks after the battle against Kokabiel...

"Is the rice ready?"

"Thirty seconds."

"The tamagoyaki?"

"I've already cut it."

"The tare sauce?"

"Reducing."

The noise in the kitchen was controlled chaos, perfectly orchestrated.

Pots banging, knives sliding against cutting boards, steam rising from boiling cauldrons.

And I was right in the middle of it, helping once again at the traditional Japanese food restaurant called Tanaka.

"Milicas! Where the hell is the nori?" Mayumi Tanaka shouted, not even looking at me as she threw a handful of hondashi into a pot.

I grabbed three sheets of nori from one of the ingredient cupboards and handed them to her before she could finish tapping her foot on the floor.

Mayumi stared at me for a second with narrowed eyes and then turned her attention back to what she was preparing. She commanded this kitchen like a general in the middle of a battle. If she hadn't been in her sixties and had a small body like a retired grandmother, I'd be pretty sure she'd been in a war.

The work went on and on. If it had been up to me, this kitchen would have burned down three times - literally.

One cook next to me, Kawahara, tried to flip a piece of fish on the griddle, but got the timing wrong. Before he could grumble, I grabbed the spatula and flipped it for him with precision, without the fish sticking or breaking.

"Pay attention, Kawahara."

"Oh, shut up, Prince!"

That ridiculous nickname didn't go away, even after a week of working here. It was ironic how everyone ended up calling me that somehow. In this restaurant, the nickname started because of my pale, clean skin.

Mayumi grunted when she heard Kawahara and me talking. "If you've got time to chat, you've got time to work harder!"

A bowl slid across the counter towards me. I grabbed it at the last moment and assembled the kaisendon that one of the waiters had ordered. Tuna, salmon and scallops were arranged in the bowl with a quick touch, and I finished it with some wasabi and chopped chives.

The clock ticked. The orders were coming in. The dispatch counter was piling up plates. The pressure was constant, overwhelming.

I liked it because it gave me a sense of normalcy.

My hands were too fast for a normal human, and even the other employees had gotten used to pretending not to notice. The only one who still tried to pick on me about it was Kawahara, but he had given up after I beat him at cutting sashimi five times in a row.

"Milicas! Hot soba for two!"

I grabbed the already cooked wheat strands, drained the water, and threw them into the shoyu broth. My fingers worked at exactly the right time, balancing the ingredients. A second more and the spring onions would wilt. A second less and the egg wouldn't be just right.

On the other side of the kitchen, the fryer was taking another batch of tempura out of the pan of hot oil. The prawns were perfect, golden and crispy. As he turned to take another order, I saw a drop of oil fly towards his face.

My hands moved before I could think. The air curved around me and the drop of oil froze mid-air before falling harmlessly to the ground.

I let the air out through my nose and continued chopping more spring onions.

Mayumi appeared out of nowhere and tapped me on the shoulder with a wooden spoon. "What?"

"What, what? Why the hell are you standing there?"

"I'm not."

She pointed at the pot of dashi I'd forgotten about for two seconds.

"Tsk."

I adjusted the temperature using a subtle stream of condensed water coming from my fingertips. Mayumi didn't notice, but looked at me suspiciously before muttering something about nosy young people.

The kitchen marched on. The heat was stifling, the staff's shouts echoed, orders came from all sides.

[The entity 'The Firmament Exile' is convinced that you shouldn't be wasting your time here.]

[The entity 'The Seer of the Blue Fire' finds your precision impressive.]

[You've earned 100 credits.]

I rolled my eyes. That damn Firmament entity always had something to say.

Mayumi walked past me carrying a pot of miso and muttered something.

"What?"

"I said you're not bad, kid."

"You're not bad either, old woman."

I was focused on the next course when a cell phone rang in the middle of the racket. The sound came from my apron pocket, a short, insistent vibration.

Mayumi gave me a sharp look. "If you stop now, I'll deduct it from your paycheck."

"I'll be back in two minutes." I didn't give myself time to argue. It was rare for my cell phone to ring for anything really important, so if someone was calling, it was worth answering.

I went to the side of the kitchen and took off my gloves before picking up the phone. The display showed a name I wasn't expecting.

I answered bluntly. "If it can wait, I'm in the middle of a contract."

"Milicas!" Gasper sounded nervous. "I know you hate being called in the middle of work, but this can't wait."

"Who asked?"

"Azazel."

Gasper wouldn't normally call me for something unimportant. But Azazel? He was the leader of the Fallen Angels faction, the person who wouldn't ask for anything without a solid reason.

"I need details."

"He wants to talk to you directly. He said it's a personal request, because he wants to talk to you directly before the meeting of the Three Main Factions."

Azazel didn't owe me any favors, nor did I owe him anything. If he wanted to talk to me, it was probably something big.

"Give me five minutes."

I hung up and put my cell phone away. When I returned to the kitchen, Mayumi was already glaring at me.

"Fifteen minutes."

"Are you kidding me, kid?"

"I promise I'll be back before the next batch of unagi."

She muttered something about irresponsible youth and waved her spoon. "If it disrupts the flow of the kitchen, you don't have to come back tomorrow."

I grabbed my coat and headed out the back door, flying towards the address Gasper had texted me.