Chapter 530: Terrified Lucifer, Perona's Overactive Imagination
Swathed in thick white bandages, Zoro sat rigidly in his chair, his single open eye fixed in a dead-on glare. Across the gloomy, candle-lit hall of the castle, Dracule Mihawk ignored him entirely. The world's greatest swordsman simply sat in his high-backed armchair, casually swirling a glass of deep red wine while reading the daily newspaper. Zoro didn't say a word; he just gripped the hilt of his sword and stared.
The heavy silence shattered as a translucent figure floated straight through the stone wall.
"Hey! Mihawk! You lazy bastard!" Perona shrieked, her twin tails bouncing as she hovered over the table. "It's your turn to cook today! Are you trying to starve me to death?! I am absolutely not cooking for you! No way!"
Zoro shot her an irritated side-glance, his voice dropping into a gruff rumble. "Oi. Tonight..."
"Do you ever learn?!" Perona snapped, whirling on him. "I've told you a million times! My name is Perona! Not 'oi'! If you call me that again, I'll hit you with a Negative—"
Seeing the ghostly white apparitions already beginning to manifest around her fingertips, Zoro threw his hands up. "Alright, alright! Perona! Is that good enough?!"
Perona crossed her arms and let out a haughty hmph. "So? What were you going to say?"
Zoro cleared his throat, trying to salvage his patience. "I was just trying to tell you that Mihawk doesn't need to cook tonight. Tonight, we're going to—"
"That is entirely too much!" Perona gasped, her eyes flying wide in utter outrage before he could finish. "I cooked last time! And now you expect me to do it again?! I refuse! I absolutely refuse!"
Mihawk finally lowered his newspaper, glancing at the floating girl. He let out a faint, barely audible sigh. Ever since she had taken up residence in his castle, her combat strength hadn't improved by a single margin, but her boundless delusions had skyrocketed. Her imagination was a runaway train that refused to be derailed.
Choosing the path of least resistance, Mihawk remained silent. He rarely spoke unless necessary anyway.
Taking his silence as a guilty confirmation, Perona puffed out her cheeks. "Fine! I'll cook! But I'm only making enough for myself! Hmph!"
She spun around in mid-air, preparing to float toward the kitchen, when Zoro barked, "Oi! Uh... Perona! You don't need to cook tonight either!"
Perona froze. She drifted back slowly, a look of deep confusion twisting her features. "Mihawk isn't cooking. I'm not cooking. Wait... are you cooking?!" Her voice pitched up in sheer horror. "A monkey can cook?! Are you trying to poison us?!"
"Mon... Monkey?!" A vein throbbed violently at Zoro's temple.
"Obviously!" Perona yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at his bandaged face. "You spend every single day swinging swords at wild baboons! And you're an idiot! The only difference between you and those beasts is that you can form words and you have less body hair! You're just a slightly more evolved primate!"
Zoro's remaining shred of restraint snapped. "Perona! Can you stop making up insane scenarios in your head for five seconds?!"
"It's the truth! And after I went out of my way to save your life, too!"
"Ahhhh!!!" Zoro roared, driven entirely mad by the sheer frustration of talking to her.
"Ahhhh!!!" Perona shrieked right back, refusing to be outdone.
"Enough." Mihawk's calm, flat voice sliced through the screaming match. He turned a page of his newspaper. "We are going to a restaurant tonight."
Perona blinked, her shouting dying in her throat. "There's a restaurant on this miserable island?"
"No. It is elsewhere. And it is only available tonight."
Perona let out a long, dramatic sigh of relief, patting her chest. "I see..." Then, she immediately glared down at Zoro. "Hey! Monkey! Why didn't you just say so earlier?!"
Zoro's blood pressure spiked so hard he saw spots. "I've been trying to tell you this entire time!"
"You didn't say a word!"
"I did! You just refused to listen!"
"You said absolutely nothing!"
"If you're going to be like this, then I have no choice!" Zoro growled, his hand instinctively dropping to his scabbard.
Perona gasped, crossing her arms and floating backward in mock terror. "Are you going to attack me, you wild ape?! Oh no! The monkey has gone feral!"
"Damn it! Watch me—"
"Negative Hollow!"
Four ghostly white spirits shot through Zoro's chest. He instantly collapsed onto the cold stone floor, dropping to his hands and knees. A dark cloud of utter despair hung over his drooping head.
"I'm sorry for sharing the same oxygen as the rest of the world..." Zoro muttered miserably into the floorboards. "I should just be reborn as a sea cucumber..."
Mihawk glanced at the pathetic sight and sighed, taking another sip of his wine. The swordsman was still too young, too hot-headed. He needed to learn the simple truth: as long as you refused to engage with Perona, these problems simply vanished. Mihawk was already used to it. These Negative Hollows made an appearance at least two or three times a day.
Satisfied with her victory, Perona didn't even bother watching Zoro repent. She simply hummed a cheerful tune and floated away to get ready.
Three hours earlier, in a completely different realm.
Ren stood behind the counter, staring at the tightly closed front door of his restaurant. He tapped his fingers against the wood, a strange sense of foreboding washing over him. "Why do I get the feeling someone utterly exhausting is about to show up?"
"Stop talking and turn the page," Lucifer muttered.
"Turn it yourself."
Lucifer ignored him, keeping both of her arms wrapped tightly around his left arm, her chin resting against his shoulder as she stared intently at the manga in his hand. Ren let out a soft sigh of amusement and flipped the page for her.
Lucifer glanced around the empty, warmly lit dining room. "I have a feeling we aren't getting any more customers tonight."
"So?"
"So..." She looked up at him, her crimson eyes gleaming. "Teach me how to cook."
Ren arched an eyebrow. "Cake again?"
Lucifer puffed out her cheeks, her pride flaring up. "You're so annoying! I just want to learn!"
Ren smiled, shaking his head fondly. "Of course. No problem at all. In fact, I've been quite looking forward to it. Let's go. It's the perfect time."
Lucifer let out a haughty hmph, but she didn't let go of his arm, quietly following him into the back. The dining room remained perfectly silent, but behind the closed doors of the kitchen, the 'baking lesson' quickly escalated into something far more intense.
An unknown amount of time later, the kitchen door finally creaked open.
Lucifer stumbled out. Her legs were trembling so violently she had to lean heavily against the corridor wall just to stay upright. Her silver hair was slightly disheveled, her face flushed a deep, brilliant crimson, and her chest heaved with exhausted breaths. She took two shaky steps and nearly collapsed to her knees.
She had absolutely no idea that making a cake would take such a physical toll. But the exhaustion wasn't even the worst part. The most crucial, horrifying detail was...
Lucifer gritted her teeth, burying her burning face in her hands. "Damn it... Why did Justice have to show up right then?! And she actually took pictures! Ahhhhh!!!"
Ren strolled out of the kitchen a moment later, looking perfectly refreshed and entirely immaculate. He carried a silver tray holding a freshly brewed pot of Earl Grey tea. Seeing her leaning against the wall in despair, he smiled warmly. "You're as cute as ever, my little queen."
"Shut up! You're so annoying!"
Despite her sharp words, the moment Ren set the tray down, Lucifer immediately closed the distance, shamelessly burying her face into his chest and clinging to his waist. After a long, quiet moment of him stroking her hair, she whispered miserably, "Ren... Justice caught my most embarrassing moment on camera. What am I supposed to do?!"
"Hmm..." Ren pretended to ponder the dilemma. "Well, you can just wait for an opportunity to catch her in a compromising position. As the former High Prosecutor, she cares far more about her public image and dignity than you do."
Lucifer thought about it for a second, then nodded against his chest. "That's true... That's the only way." She suddenly looked up, glaring at him accusingly. "Honestly... Modeus's ritual contract has to be a total scam! Why should you be the one full of energy right now, while I feel like I can't even stand?!"
"That is a good question," Ren mused, his eyes dancing with dry amusement. "Modeus did mention that the contract wouldn't give me too many physical buffs, so it shouldn't be that. It must just be the sheer, invigorating joy of teaching you how to cook."
Lucifer let out a soft hmph, her grip on his arm tightening. "You never praise me this much normally."
"Did you actually learn anything today? The brownies and the macarons?"
"The brownies are fine," Lucifer muttered, her face heating up again. "But the macarons... the steps for that got a bit confusing..."
"Macarons..." Ren chuckled softly. "I seem to recall that by the time we got to the macarons, you weren't paying attention to the ingredients at all."
"Nonsense!" Lucifer snapped, her blush spreading to the tips of her ears. "You know exactly why I couldn't focus during that part!"
"Well then, I suppose I'll just have to teach you again."
Lucifer instinctively went to nod, before the reality of his words fully registered. Her eyes widened in absolute terror. "No! I'm exhausted! I don't want to learn anymore today! Let's do it tomorrow! I've been standing for way too long, my legs are completely sore, and my back aches! Give me a massage instead!"
Ren laughed, a deep, indulgent sound. "Alright."
"Hmph! Consider it an honor to serve me!"
"Yes, yes," Ren murmured, gently sweeping her up into his arms. "You worked very hard today, my little queen."
"Obviously!"
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