Chapter 117: A Guilty Conscience
In Japan, buffets are called “tabehoudai,” which roughly ans “eat as much as you want.” However, unlike the usual self-service style, where custors walk up and fill their own plates, this version worked differently. Diners ordered through an electronic tablet, and waiters brought each dish directly to the table. The design made eating far more relaxed and refined, especially for guests who preferred comfort over chaos.
The restaurant buzzed softly with chatter, the faint sound of plates clinking and steam rising from the kitchen. Through the wide glass windows, the garden outside shimred with sunlight reflecting off the koi pond.
Kouya and the group sat by the window. On the table rested a touchscreen device—sleek, modern, and surprisingly fun to use. Vigne tapped the display, scrolling through what seed like an endless nu. The resort’s buffet had over two hundred dishes—grilled ats, fresh seafood, vegetables, sashimi, salads, desserts, fruit, tea, coffee, and rare wines. It was less of a buffet and more of a feast.
“What do you guys want to eat?” Vigne asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.
Satania slamd her hand on the table. “at! Grilled at! Bring the biggest portion you’ve got!”
Raphiel smiled gracefully. “Hmm, the grilled squid steak looks divine.”
Rikka’s eyes sparkled as she poked at the tablet. “Salmon sashimi! Oh, and tempura too!”
Gabriel yawned lazily. “Garlic shrimp for . And maybe so fried rice.”
When Kanna’s turn ca, she pressed her fingers together shyly, then said in her calm monotone voice, “Everything. I want all of it.”
“That’s a bit too much, Kanna-chan,” Vigne said with a nervous laugh. “Let’s start small and order more later, okay?”
After confirming the order, the server arrived within minutes, carrying tray after tray until the table looked like a festival spread. The aromas blended together—grilled at sizzling, fried tempura crackling, miso soup steaming gently.
“Itadakimasu!” everyone chorused, hands pressed together before they began to eat.
Vigne cut into her steak and smiled in delight. “This is incredible! Tender, perfectly cooked, and just the right seasoning.”
“Delicious!” Satania said between bites, already chewing on her third skewer.
Gabriel mumbled through a mouthful, “Mm… better than convenience store als, that’s for sure.”
For gluttons and angels alike, there was no need for deep analysis. One word was enough—“good.”
Kouya, seated next to Kanna, ate more slowly, appreciating each bite. The steak was rich and flavorful, the salmon sashimi silky smooth. Yet his favorite dish turned out to be a pork roll wrapped around roasted scallions. The smoky scent of the pork mixed with the sharp freshness of the onions, and the combination lted into pure perfection.
The grilled tofu surprised him too—simple yet refined. Golden brown on the outside, soft on the inside, and covered in a thin glaze of sauce with chopped scallions. When he bit into it, the tofu burst gently, releasing flavor across his tongue.
Half an hour passed. Most of them were already slowing down.
Rikka set her fork down and picked up a small pudding. “Hero, try this! It’s so sweet and soft!”
Kouya smiled and ordered one for himself. The pudding ca topped with sliced kiwi, strawberry, and pineapple, the fruits glistening like jewels under the light.
Then ca the stare.
Kanna’s big, innocent eyes focused entirely on his pudding.
“Want a taste?” he asked dryly.
“Yes.”
At least pretend to finish what’s on your plate first! he thought, resisting the urge to sigh.
The blue-eyed dragon girl had completely entered “Glutton Mode.” Her chopsticks moved with supernatural speed.
Grilled oysters? Chomp!
Thick sirloin steak? Chomp!
Grilled shrimp and crab? Chomp—! Her pace was terrifying.
Co to think of it, Kouya realized, Kanna never refused food. As long as it was edible, she ate it. The only exception was orange peels—she hated those.
An hour went by. Everyone else leaned back, done for the day, except one small dragon who showed no sign of stopping.
Gabriel rested her chin in her hand. “Watching her eat is weirdly hypnotic.”
Rikka nodded. “Yeah, I’ve eaten more just by looking at her.”
Raphiel chuckled behind her teacup. “Fufu~ maybe Kouya-kun’s white liquid is boosting her appetite.”
Kouya froze mid-bite, his face darkening. “It’s milk, Raphiel. Milk!”
How could she say such things so casually? Just when he thought of that, a bizarre thought crossed his mind. Who was the first person in history to drink milk from a cow, anyway? What on earth made them think that was a good idea?
The thought alone made his appetite vanish for a second.
By the ti another half-hour passed, the table was a battlefield—empty plates stacked high, sauce dishes scattered, crumbs everywhere. Kanna, unfazed, kept eating.
The staff had started whispering.
“She’s still eating?” one server muttered.
“Over an hour now,” another replied. “And she’s so small! Where does it all go?”
The waiters moved nervously, their hands trembling as they carried another tray of grilled oysters, fried tofu, and steak.
Kouya leaned back, rubbing his forehead. ‘My conscience hurts a little,’ he thought. ‘I should’ve warned them she’s… not exactly normal.’
The restaurant’s other guests were no less shocked.
“Mom, look!” a chubby boy cried. “That girl’s eating more than ! You can’t say I eat too much anymore!”
His mother gaped speechlessly, torn between amusent and horror.
All around, murmurs spread like wildfire. A few even took out their phones, pretending to snap pictures discreetly.
anwhile, in the resort’s office, Hirata Sachiko was watching the live feed. Her eyes widened as she leaned toward the screen. Kanna’s pile of plates had grown taller than her head.
“This is… absurd,” she whispered. “Even competitive eaters would faint halfway through that.”
She had originally worried Kouya might bring trouble to the resort. Now she realized the only “trouble” was keeping up with his dragon companion’s appetite.
“Could she be a shikigami?” she murmured, frowning. “No… she seems too lively, too real. Maybe a spirit beast?”
At least, she thought with relief, no one was getting hurt. The only victims were the kitchen’s ingredients and the chefs’ sanity.
Nearly two hours later, the servers were exhausted, the chefs pale, and the kitchen half-empty. Only then did Kanna finally put her chopsticks down. Her expression looked faintly regretful as she glanced at the last few untouched trays.
“Kanna-chan, let’s go,” Vigne said softly, wiping her face with a napkin.
Kanna nodded obediently, still chewing slowly as she slid off her chair.
As they headed for the door, Kouya stretched, feeling his full stomach and the weight of mild guilt pressing down on him. He could almost hear the chefs sigh in collective relief.
Then, from behind them, a calm, feminine voice called out—
“Kou-kun?”
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