Ming still stood there, offering us a gentle smile. But in the twilight's flickering shadows, that gentleness carried a cold current that sent a shiver down my spine.
Qing Yashu forced a small smile, breaking the oppressive silence:
-"Is something the matter, Ming?"
-"It's nothing. I just wanted to ask how your day went. Is the new employee doing alright?" He spoke while tilting his chin toward me.
-"Quite well," Yashu quickly interjected. "Everything went very smoothly."
-"Hmm." He responded softly, his gaze suddenly piercing into me as if trying to read my very soul - "If there's any trouble... be sure to let me know immediately."
-"Yes, thank you..." I replied in the flattest tone possible.
Aside from his ghost-like appearance and the eerie aura surrounding him, he was currently playing the role of a rather exemplary manager. At least, for now.
The space sank back into a strange stillness. To dispel the thickening atmosphere, Yashu asked:
-"By the way, where will Tianxia be staying? Is it room 109?"
-"That's right, I almost forgot. My apologies." Ming nodded, then silently turned and walked away, his silhouette vanishing into the darkness of the hallway as quickly as it had appeared.
I narrowed my eyes, watching him go. It turned out this cursed place actually had a dormitory for staff. At least I wouldn't have to wander the streets or curl up on the cafe floor to survive the night.
While lost in thought, I was suddenly startled by a firm nudge on my shoulder. It was Yashu. She looked at me with an excited expression:
-"Hey, let's go make some dinner."
Making food? It seemed we were allowed to use the cafe's kitchen to provide for ourselves. This was convenient; it saved us from stepping out into the chaotic world outside to hunt for risky rations.
-"Sounds good," I replied briefly, tucking the cleaning rag into my pocket and following after her.
This time, I was led deeper into the long, hunched corridor behind the shop. On either side were old wooden doors, most of them private rest areas for the staff.
The kitchen sat modestly at the end of the hallway-a cramped space stained by the passage of time, but the equipment was arranged quite neatly. Yashu walked over to a wooden cabinet, quickly grabbed a bag of eggs sitting there, and turned to me:
-"Fried eggs? Simple, but filling."
-"That works." I nodded, pulling an old wooden chair aside to make some room.
Yashu leaned down to open the lower cabinet, pulling out a set of metal pots and pans. The sound of clashing steel created a sharp "screech," shattering the kitchen's silence. She placed a few small bowls on the table and pushed them toward me:
-"You crack the eggs; I'll wash the rice and cook it."
I looked at the heavy bag of eggs in my hand. A brief moment of hesitation flickered across my face but quickly vanished. Picking up an egg, I tapped it lightly against the rim of the bowl. A decisive "crack" sounded, the shell splintering to reveal the smooth yolk slowly sliding down. For a moment, the scent of raw food caused my mind to settle; an uncanny sense of peace unexpectedly emerged.
The third egg was done. I set the shells aside and looked up to see Yashu finishing with the rice cooker. She turned on the stove while glancing at me, her voice tinged with a playful note:
-"Looks like you've got some talent after all."
I raised an eyebrow, looking at the three bowls of cracked eggs, and asked nonchalantly:
-"Talent? Are you talking about cracking these eggs?"
-"No." Yashu laughed, her eyes suddenly becoming more serious. "I mean you surviving Mission 1. To be honest, when I first saw you, I didn't think you'd make it out with your life intact."
I stiffened slightly as memories of the intense moments in the first Demon Gate flashed back like a slow-motion film. I curled my lip into a smirk, answering with a reckless tone:
-"It was just luck. No talent involved." In truth, being praised so suddenly took me... quite by surprise.
I tossed the eggshells into the nearby bin, my gaze turning somber as I thought about the upcoming challenge. After a moment of silence, I looked directly at Yashu, my voice rippleless:
-"How do we enter the second Demon Gate?"
Yashu paused for a moment, pointing toward the window where the darkness was slowly devouring the last rays of light:
-"See that giant eye in the sky? The rule here is simple yet insane. We just need to cross our arms over our faces and stare directly at it without blinking for ten seconds. Immediately, you'll be 'summoned' to the Demon Gate's location."
My movements halted mid-air, my brows furrowing: "Just by looking at it? That sounds... rather strange."
-"Exactly. Sounds absurd, doesn't it?" Yashu shrugged, a trace of bitterness in her smile. "But in this world, that's how the System identifies players who want to continue the challenge."
I looked out the window, where the colossal eye continued to silently observe everything with a chilling coldness.
Finally, after waiting through a dull ache of hunger, the rice was ready. Yashu and I carried the steaming plates of food to a small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. The rich aroma of fresh rice blended with the fragrant scent of fried eggs, hitting my nostrils and awakening every sense that had gone limp.
I picked up my chopsticks and, keeping an old habit, briefly closed my eyes to recite a short prayer before starting. I hoped that in the future, I could still enjoy cozy meals like this.
I picked up a golden piece of fried egg, placed it on the white rice, and took a bite. The rich, soft texture melted on my tongue instantly-it felt like a remedy, soothing all the exhaustion and tension from a long day besieged by eerie entities.
Inadvertently, my eyes met the person sitting opposite me. Yashu no longer looked as sharp as she did when facing customers; she was preoccupied with eating, the tip of her chopsticks lightly touching her lips in a somewhat innocent manner. She hadn't even noticed a single grain of white rice stuck to her cheek.
Under the dim kitchen light, that image looked so out of place amidst this brutal reality. Without thinking too much, I reached out. My finger brushed lightly against her cheek, decisively flicking the grain of rice away with a gentle touch.
My sudden movement made Yashu freeze. She startled like a cat having its ear touched, her eyes widening slightly as she looked straight at me. The space suddenly became so still that the sound of heartbeats was audible. I withdrew my hand, nonchalantly continuing my meal as if I had just done the most obvious thing in the world, completely oblivious to the awkwardness spreading through the air.
Yashu reached up to touch her cheek-right where my fingers had just grazed. Her gaze wavered, her usual sharpness seemingly masked by an invisible confusion.
I didn't say another word and just quietly ate.
The meal ended in a strange silence. We cleared up together and began washing the dishes. The sound of running water mingled with the clinking of ceramics.
Throughout the process, the two of us didn't say a word to each other.
I glanced up at the old wooden clock hanging on the kitchen wall. The numbers had faded with time, the hands pointing to: 7:15 PM.
It was getting late. I began to pick up the pace, my movements becoming more practiced and efficient. I told myself I needed to get back to my room quickly to check on a few necessities.
After completing the final chores in the kitchen, Yashu silently led me back through the deep, shadowy corridors of the cafe. The space had become even darker and colder, the flickering oil lamps on the walls casting our long, distorted shadows across the floor.