When the plot-skips players into the game world Chapter 498

Chapter 498: Chapter 391 Reporter Dimitri Chapter 498: Chapter 391 Reporter Dimitri Black ribbons had already been hung upon the treetops.

When Dimitri received the notice from the Hall of Silver and Tin, he was over the moon.

His fingers even started to tremble uncontrollably as he sat in the carriage, repeatedly caressing his beloved cara like there were pins and needles under his seat, making him squirm nonstop.

He was a journalist from the Glass Staircase Daily.

Two months ago, when Aiwass bravely fought the ferocious Aberrant Limb Demon during the “Holy Sword dal” award ceremony, he was there at the scene.

To be more precise,

he was the journalist who, in a fit of terror so severe it was almost like being possessed, frantically snapped photos of the demon.

He was also the one who, after Aiwass and Gordon defeated the demon, eventually took their picture.

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Gordon’s armor was battered and broken, his helt had fallen off revealing a determined face drenched in sweat and gri; Aiwass sat in his slightly deford wheelchair, blood seeping from his chest, the Holy Sword dal pinned to his chest stained red with his own blood, shining in the evening light with a ruby-like brilliance—

It beca the best photo he had ever taken in his life.

Since then, he was no longer rely a photographer but had beco an exclusive journalist for the Glass Staircase Daily.

It could be said that that photo changed his fate.

And to delve deeper, it was Aiwass who made him what he was today.

The benefactor who had saved his life and elevated both his personal and professional realms.

—Unlike those who only knew Aiwass through newspapers and thus casually critiqued the too-young “Minister Moriarty,” journalist Dimitri held Aiwass in high regard.

Because he was truly there throughout the whole event.

The demon erged right before Dimitri’s eyes, from that person’s body—he knew just how terrifying that twisted and vicious demon was, and how the fear it induced could completely paralyze one’s brain.

It was a horror that static photos couldn’t encapsulate.

Not to ntion, the horrifying photo he took of “the demon ripping through a human body to erge” didn’t even pass the editor’s review to make it into the newspaper.

In the face of such a demon, as a disabled person with limited mobility who could have been escorted to safety, to muster up the courage to fight for others—such bravery and resilience were far superior to those of the knight lords!

If he wasn’t to beco a Knight, then who should?

And for that reason, whenever he talked with colleagues in the newsroom or heard outside criticisms of Aiwass during interviews, Dimitri couldn’t help but speak up for Aiwass.

Undoubtedly, journalist Dimitri was Aiwass Moriarty’s number one fan!

Perhaps this title of his had reached Aiwass himself…

Today, just as Dimitri was preparing to leave work, he suddenly received a notice from his editor.

The new Head of the Departnt of Care of Magical Creatures, and the confidant of Queen Isabel, Aiwass Moriarty, was planning to accept an interview.

And he specifically requested him—the journalist who had taken his photo at the award ceremony.

The newsroom didn’t dare to neglect the request and imdiately dispatched Dimitri.

But in fact, even if his editor hadn’t emphatically asked him, or if Aiwass hadn’t personally requested him, Dimitri himself would have asked his editor for this opportunity.

The agreed interview location was not too far from the newsroom, located in the White Queen District.

But they still took a carriage ride there—walking on foot seed too casual of an approach, and there was also the risk of arriving sweaty, which would be discourteous.

Dimitri, dressed in his best outfit, holding his notebook and pen, carefully walked into the designated restaurant.

It was a restaurant owned by an iris flower owner.

It had high ratings and the prices were especially steep.

Not far from the next building were the villas of the knight lords of the Round Table Hall.

Several ministers lived within a five-hundred-ter radius, and there were White-Feathered Griffons and Arbiters from the Arbitration Hall patrolling day and night.

For the interview, it would be ideal to get a photo of the interviewee.

But Dimitri didn’t dare to face Minister Moriarty with the flash of his cara, as it might startle Aiwass and cause displeasure.

So, he decided to leave his cara, tripod, and flash, along with his tall and clumsy photography assistant, outside the restaurant.

If the conversation went well, perhaps they could take a photo when they were leaving.

Dimitri didn’t know the na of the restaurant—it was written in floral script Iris Flower language and didn’t have a translation underneath.

Dimitri had only completed elentary school before coming to Glass Island to work.

And this ti, it was Aiwass who had invited him to dine.

He worried that any embarrassnt on his part might reflect poorly on Aiwass.

He had made up his mind to order only the cheapest dish available.

He wouldn’t need any wine.

Drinking too much might lead to embarrassnt, and there was also the risk of staining Aiwass’s clothes or the carpet.

But when he saw the interior decorations, he still felt uneasy.

The young man, short in stature and wearing a beret, stood at the entrance of the restaurant, looking at the soft woolen carpet on the floor inside, appearing so awkward.

He stood at the door, vigorously wiping his shoes on the mat several tis before daring to walk in.

The waiters at the entrance made no comnt about his attire or actions, as Aiwass had clearly given instructions beforehand.

The waiters maintained a respectful and polite deanor, leading the young journalist to a private room on the second floor.

Upon entering, Dimitri was greeted by the rich and fragrant aroma of food.

He instinctively sniffed, his Adam’s apple bobbing silently as he swallowed.

He recognized Aiwass at first glance.

At that mont, Aiwass was sitting at the table, facing him.

There was only one person in the room, yet the table was laden with dishes.

There were no waiters, no servants.

This was obviously not normal.

Generally speaking, a dignitary like Minister Moriarty would certainly have attendants when going out.

Even if his Elf Butler was not on Glass Island, he should still be accompanied by his personal maid.

And there should always be so waiters in the room…

When the door opened, a bit of cool air blew in, and Aiwass looked up to see Dimitri standing at the door, hesitant to co in.

Aiwass’s smile was particularly affable.

He gestured towards the seat opposite him, “Please, take a seat, Mr.

Dimitri.”

“… Yes, Minister Moriarty.”

Dimitri walked in cautiously, hesitating as he sat down.

Before he could ask, Aiwass cheerfully said, “I thought you might be nervous, so I asked them not to stay here.

“The dishes have all been served, I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you wanted to eat.

But I think I’ve ordered plenty.

It might get cold if you don’t eat, so please, start.”

Everything had been served?

Dimitri picked up his knife and fork, asking in a low voice, “I’ve heard that ministers like to have their als served course by course…”

“That’s true.”

Aiwass nodded, “In the Hall of Silver and Tin, they don’t serve too many dishes at once, they remove what’s not enough or has cooled down to replace it with a fresh table.

And this custom cos from the Iris Flower.

According to the rules of this kind of restaurant, they serve the dishes one by one to maintain the flavor of the food.”

The journalist was curious, “So this is…”

“Simple,” Aiwass said, his gaze deep.

“Because I am the rule.”

The words silenced the young journalist instantly.

Seeing him startled, Aiwass laughed, “Just kidding.

Actually, I guessed the ti you would arrive and asked the waiters to bring all the dishes at a specified ti—look, it’s still warm.

“This way you can eat as soon as you sit down and not be too nervous.

You won’t have to start a conversation, not having to face without a word to say.

Wouldn’t it be distressing for you to sit like you’re in jail?

“Please eat.

It would be a waste if the food gets cold.”

Aiwass urged.

Watching Dimitri staring at the table full of dishes, not knowing where to start, Aiwass introduced him to a dish, “I recomnd this one.

Baked crab with crab at mousse served with caviar and sweet corn.

The crab at won’t taste good once it’s cooled.”

“… Oh, okay!”

Dimitri instinctively followed Aiwass’s suggestion.

The delicious crab at mousse imdiately captured his heart.

He wanted to devour it, but he was concerned that eating voraciously in front of Aiwass would seem too rude.

“Try this next, roasted squab.

And this, smoked beef tenderloin with beef heart and mushroom sauce.”

While Dimitri was still being reserved, Aiwass continued to enthusiastically recomnd dishes to him, even to the point where there were too many to finish quickly.

Dimitri, however, had no ti to pay attention to anything else, even forgetting that he had co for an interview, solely focused on eating the lukewarm food, hoping to finish it before it cooled down—all to avoid waste.

And watching the young man sink into the sweet dilemma of happiness, Aiwass—who was actually seven or eight years younger than Dimitri—rely smiled, heartily devouring the food with big bites.