Chapter 159: Shen’s Noodles
The bustling chatter and footsteps outside dulled as a sudden quiet stillness enveloped the entire space. Miu instinctively stepped closer to Aren, grabbing onto his shirt with a hand.
"...Okay," she whispered. "That’s already weird."
Aren’s eyes scanned the surroundings, imbuing ether into his eyes to try to spot any changes in the environment that could be dangerous.
Yet, he found none, which was odd. Even weirder was that the entire place was empty, not even working staff were present.
But more than the absence of employees, he noticed another detail about the restaurant itself, and how...plain it was.
A few cheap square tables lined the floor along with mismatched wooden chairs. The counters were plain, and the walls were bare save for a couple of faded menu boards that were hanging on for dear life via clear tape.
But despite everything, the place looked clean. Tables had been wiped down and the utensils were neatly arranged. Even the floor, though worn, had no visible stains.
Someone had to have gone out of their way to keep appearances intact.
Yet...the smell hit Aren’s nose almost immediately. It was faint at first, but unmistakable.
"...Do you smell that?" Miu muttered under her breath.
"Yeah."
At first, Aren thought he could pinpoint it immediately. He thought it was the signature smell of foul ether that usually came off of demonic cultivators.
However, the more he breathed it in, the more it didn’t feel quite right. Aren subconsciously moved, getting ahead of Miu and walking closer to the source—the kitchen door.
"...Could be spoiled ingredients," Miu said, though even she didn’t sound convinced.
But just as the both of them took another step forward, a metal sound rang from behind the doors, like a metal utensil was being set down.
Aren shifted, ready to summon his swords at a moment’s notice if things were to go bad. The kitchen doors creaked before—
"...Ah, customers!"
A balding, middle-aged man stepped out, wearing a worn cooking apron tied loosely around his waist. He looked extremely ordinary, one that you’d usually find playing cards at the local cafe.
"Sorry about the wait!" he said cheerfully, rubbing the back of his head. "Didn’t realize someone had come in."
He gestured lightly toward the tables.
"Sit anywhere, sit anywhere! I’ll be right with you."
That’s...Uncle Shen! But how? Isn’t he supposed to be missing?!
He took a slight glance at Miu, and knew she was thinking the exact same thing. Her eyes widened, ether already channeling into her hand as she was prepared to release an Art.
Shit...are we under some kind of Illusion by the Psychic Element?
Aren looked around, trying to spot traces of ether or if they were under the conditions of an Art, but there were none.
In that case...could it be a Skin Walker? There’s no way a Skin Walker could be here though...
Calm down Aren, be professional. Let’s probe things a bit.
"Actually," he said, steadying his voice just enough to sound reliable, "before we order—"
The man blinked. "Hm?"
Aren glanced into his coat, pulling out his Hunter ID but covering just enough for it to pass at a glance.
"This’ll be a routine check," he continued smoothly. "Food safety inspection."
Miu blinked, clearly not expecting that.
"...Oh."
But the man’s smile never faltered. "Ah! Inspection, is it? Of course, of course...one moment."
Without hesitation, he reached into his apron and pulled out a small identification card, handing it over. Aren took it, quickly scanning it.
Face, name, registration, date of birth, everything seemed correct except—
’Shen’... he really doesn’t have a last name on his identification card. How the hell did they let him register like this?
Regardless, he seems real...for now.
"...Seems fine," Aren said after a moment, handing it back.
"Of course it is!" Shen laughed lightly, tucking it away. "I make sure everything’s up to standard here."
"Alright then," the man clapped his hands lightly. "Since you’re here, at least try the food. Wouldn’t be a proper inspection otherwise."
Aren stared at the man for a little longer before giving a small nod. "Fair enough, whatever you recommend."
The man nodded happily as well, turning to head back to the kitchen. "Coming right up!"
Just as Aren pulled out a chair and began to sit, Miu practically threw herself at him. "You’re actually agreeing? And how the hell is he here?"
"...That’s what we’re trying to find out, aren’t we?"
After a moment, the doors creaked once more as Shen stepped out, holding two bowls carefully in his hands.
"Here we are!"
He placed them down one by one, the ceramic making a dull clink against the table.
At first glance, it looked like noodles. But only at first glance.
The broth was extremely dark, not the rich kind of dark...but something murky and viscous clung to the sides of the bowl. The noodles themselves sagged into it, barely holding their shape.
And the meat...
Aren could physically hear Miu try to suppress a gag from his side before she leaned in to whisper.
"That’s...meat...right?"
But throughout it all, the restaurant owner stood next to them.
"...Go ahead," Shen said warmly, stepping back just a little. "Tell me how it tastes."
Even if Aren didn’t see it, he could feel it. Shen was staring straight at them, like he was making sure they took a bite. He didn’t make any attempts to leave...he simply just stood there, watching.
"...Aren."
"I see it."
"Uhm, actually—" Miu started. "I’m kind of self-conscious, so I can’t really eat with other people watching..."
"Oh, that’s okay!" the owner fired back almost immediately, like he was expecting it coming. "You don’t really have to. Your partner can give me his opinion instead."
Shen still hadn’t moved, standing to the side of the table like a vulture eyeing a carcass. Aren’s fingers hovered just above his spoon by the side of the bowl.
I can’t refuse...it’ll be too suspicious and blow our cover. If I try to stall, it’ll be even worse...
And judging from how quickly he had responded to Miu’s excuse and how insistent he is...something’s definitely wrong.
"...Alright," Aren said calmly.
Miu’s head snapped toward him.
"You’re serious?!" she whispered, though it definitely came out louder than she wanted it to.
A stream of ether stirred quietly beneath his skin as a veil of water, so thin it was invisible to the naked eye, enveloped the spoon that he picked up.
Slowly, Aren dipped it into the broth and pulled up a small scoop. He lifted it up to his mouth, pausing to look at the restaurant owner before—
He put the broth in his mouth.