Chen Ze stood in the kitchen, suddenly feeling a bit regretful, after all, there’s no way he could finish this breakfast, Betty did munch on so bread, but there were still quite a lot of pickles and smoked salted fish left.
"What’s the best way to deal with these?" Chen Ze felt he lost a few more strands of hair, with the sensation that he was on the fast track to baldness.
Every man resists the notion of balding, and there’s also the saying, "Only a bald head is the true test of a handso man."
"Um... Manager..." Betty approached cautiously, eyeing the pickles and salted fish still on the table, and couldn’t help but swallow her saliva.
This was definitely not because she was hungry or wanted to eat, but purely out of fear.
"What’s up? Do you want to eat them?" Chen Ze certainly noticed Betty’s gaze and asked effortlessly.
If Betty was willing to eat it all, Chen Ze wouldn’t mind scratching off a couple of items from his little notebook.
Well, they were worth two items at most, not one more!
"No, no, no! I don’t want to eat them, it’s just that a custor has arrived." Betty quickly waved her hands, moving them so fast one might mistake her for an electric fan.
"Eh?" Chen Ze was a bit confused, it seems that his thoughts were elsewhere earlier and he hadn’t heard the sound of the wind chi at all.
"What did the custor order?" Chen Ze tied his headscarf and reverted back to his imperious manager appearance.
"The custor ordered a serving of... soul..." Betty muttered softly, and Chen Ze’s mouth twitched, soul – what kind of ghost is that.
Of course, Chen Ze knew what a soul was, whether analyzing it from the perspective of the occult or theology, he understood.
But if analyzing it from a culinary perspective, then Chen Ze was a bit baffled, could a soul be used to cook?
What kind of bizarre world’s dark culinary arts was this?
Chen Ze peered out and saw a man sitting in the dining area, except he had two small horns on his forehead, making him look exactly like a genuine devil.
"I’m sorry, custor, but our store is currently unable to provide soul cuisine," Chen Ze explained as he walked out.
"You can’t provide soul cuisine, can you? That’s quite boring indeed, as I’m only interested in souls," the suspected devil turned his head to look at Chen Ze.
Chen Ze then noticed that the other party was wearing a black suit, which looked quite proper.
"You can choose sothing from the nu, as we really cannot serve soul," Chen Ze decisively shook his head again – if he didn’t know, he didn’t know, where was he supposed to learn how to cook with soul?
And even if he did learn, how he would obtain souls remained an issue, since it seed like the other party had no intention of eating the souls of chickens, ducks, cattle, sheep, or pigs.
"In that case... then give an Elizabeth," the devil stared at Chen Ze for a while, glanced at the floor beneath his feet, and changed his request.
"All right, please wait a mont," Chen Ze nodded and then went to the kitchen to pour the devil a glass of Elizabeth.
The bright red liquid swirled in the goblet, looking especially eye-catching.
"Delicious wine... it seems sowhat different from that of the mortal realm." The other party slowly sipped, and it was clear that he had studied how to appreciate wine.
After all, his technique was nearly identical to what Chen Ze had seen in videos before, the sa steps, just that the other party’s thod of appreciation was more elaborate.
"If there is anything else you need, just let Betty know," Chen Ze said a few words simply and then returned to his own kitchen.
He had to make further improvents to the filling of the Goubuli buns now, in order to reach an even higher level of perfection.
Betty looked at the custor with a pleasing smile.
For so reason, this custor gave her a very strong oppressive feeling, almost on par with Lady Lafra and Lord Stan.
"Succubus, do you have any recomndations?" the Devil asked, looking at Betty.
"Um... Esteed guest, all the dishes here are very tasteful, including the barbecue," Betty quickly explained.
"Barbecue?" The Devil recalled the tis in Hell when his subordinates would skewer souls with tridents and roast them over the flas of Hell just for fun.
"I don’t like it. As the ruler of Hell, I feel like I sll barbecue every day," phisto shook his head.
"Is there anything else?" If it’s only barbecue, then phisto might have to consider ordering so dessert.
"That would be the manager’s Magical Mapo Tofu and Iceberg Fresh Mountain," Betty pondered for a mont and gave the answer she had in mind.
For Betty, there were no dishes that could compare with these two, except for the Starry Sky Cake, which she hadn’t tried yet. Even chestnut rice from the ice sea wasn’t to Betty’s taste as much as these two.
"Magical Mapo Tofu? A Huaxia dish? Bring a serving," phisto suddenly beca interested.
He was really curious about the cuisine from that distant land of the East; he just never had a chance to visit because it wasn’t under his jurisdiction.
For that very reason, phisto had a certain level of expectations for Huaxia’s cuisine since Chinese restaurants in his dominion never tasted quite authentic.
"Certainly, please wait a mont," Betty nodded and then went into the kitchen to inform Chen Ze.
"Hmm," Chen Ze nodded and then took out the tofu, starting to prepare the Magical Mapo Tofu using the thod taught by Liu Maoxing, and the basics as guided by Soma Yukihira.
[You have made an exquisite portion of Magical Mapo Tofu, gaining 10 points of experience in otherworldly cuisine crafting.]
Chen Ze sighed. He hadn’t made a perfect level of Magical Mapo Tofu, which left him sowhat disappointed.
"Betty, co in and serve the dish," Chen Ze called out.
Looking at the Magical Mapo Tofu in front of him, along with the rice on the side, phisto skillfully picked up the chopsticks and tried a piece.
"Very nice," phisto nodded appreciatively. The taste of the Magical Mapo Tofu was splendid, but that was on the premise that he had suppressed his body to that of a mortal.
After all, as one of Hell’s rulers, phisto wouldn’t feel anything even if he drank magma, let alone Mapo Tofu.
"Do you have General Tso’s chicken, Succubus?" phisto turned his head with interest. It was his favorite dish from the Chinese restaurants he had tried.
"Yes, please wait a mont," Betty once again headed into the kitchen.
"Manager, another order of General Tso’s chicken!"
"Hmm."
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