John approached a table tucked away in the corner, where a solitary guest sat, their body wrapped entirely in bandages, dark blood seeping through.
A bouquet of roses rested on the table.
Across from the empty seat, a coffee was placed, as if awaiting another guest.
"May I help you with anything?" John approached and asked politely.
The putrid restaurant uniform, though filthy and foul-smelling, was a lifesaver; wearing it signified you were an employee of the restaurant, and under normal circumstances, ghosts wouldn't kill you.
The bandaged ghost didn't speak, instead pushing the menu across the table, with its choice already marked.
"Steamed heart."
"Very well, please wait a moment." John picked up the menu, nodded slightly, and walked away.
Jessica, at the next table, watched John's service with wide-eyed astonishment.
Her guest was a ghost with a gaping chest wound, its still heart visible inside, which had turned her face deathly pale.
Following the guide, John made his way to the kitchen.
To call it a kitchen was a stretch; it was more like a slaughterhouse.
Bodies, bloody and raw, were thrown onto chopping boards, the sound of chopping meat was enough to make one's skin crawl.
Approaching a chef, John handed over the menu: "Table 4, one steamed heart, please."
The chef, a ghost with facial features twisted like pretzels, stared at the menu, then at John, with a sinister voice, "No more hearts, use yours!!"
John's expression remained unchanged.
Seeing that he hadn't frightened John, the chef seemed surprised, snatching the menu with a malevolent glare.
John kept his composure, not at all intimidated by his words. Wearing the Fierce Ghost Restaurant uniform, he was an employee here, and the chef ghost wouldn't dare kill him.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
John remembered one thing: as long as he did his job honestly, there would be no danger.
This reaction did not sit well with the chef ghost.
The dish was prepared quickly.
"It's ready."
The black plate was placed on the table, and John picked it up to leave, not wanting to give the chef ghost any reason to hassle him.
But halfway to the table, for safety's sake, John decided to take a closer look.
"Ding, Eye of Truth skill activated."
[Eye of Truth: Tragically, he didn't survive until his girlfriend's return; his enemies flayed his skin with repeated cuts, and he died in agony. Human skin is the thing he loathes most, for it triggers the painful memories of that torment.]
Upon seeing the prompt from the Eye of Truth, John's expression instantly darkened.
That ghost chef clearly had malicious intentions, having added human skin to the Steamed heart, trying to frame him!
What to do?
If he delivered the dish, the bandaged ghost would surely kill him upon seeing the human skin! But if he didn't deliver it, he was no match for the chef ghost either!
After a moment of silence, John decisively walked back.
"Is there something else in the dish?"
Back in the kitchen, John placed the plate back on the table.
The chef looked up, his face twisted and terrifying: "You lowly vermin, dare to question my cooking? Tired of living, are you?"
"I am lowly, but the guest flew into a rage upon seeing the dish, giving you one last chance to make a satisfactory meal, or he'll surely devour you!"
Seeing the chef's already ferocious expression, John continued: "That's the esteemed Bandaged Lord, the manager personally attended to him. Can you afford to offend him?"
The chef was taken aback, wondering why the blame was being put on him. Shouldn't it eat this vermin first?
But it dared not ponder further. In the Thriller World, on the surface, various rules and mechanisms were established.
Yet in reality, in the presence of truly powerful ghosts, these rules were as worthless as scrap paper.
A restaurant once made a dish that didn't meet the taste, and that ghost ate every ghost in the entire restaurant clean. Not even the floor was spared; it was all consumed.
If the bandaged ghost wanted to eat it, the manager wouldn't stop it, because it was the chef ghost's fault for the problem with the dish in the first place.
"Wait here."
The chef ghost took back the plate and quickly presented a new dish.
John held it in his hands, rebuking coldly: "You wretched thing, if there's a next time, I'll have you served up on the table!!"
"What did you say?"
The chef ghost's expression twisted almost upside down, aching to swallow John whole and chew him up in its mouth.
"These are also the words of the esteemed Bandaged Lord!" John left this remark and walked away.
The chef was trembling all over in a frenzy, yet he didn't dare to pounce. He wasn't sure if these were John's words or a message conveyed by the bandaged ghost.
"That was thrilling; I actually scolded a ghost." On the way back, John's heart was still pounding furiously.
That last sentence was to vent his anger, but thinking about it now, it was still too risky.
What if the chef couldn't restrain itself and decided to devour him on the spot?
[Demon System Triggered: You have successfully enraged the chef ghost and have been awarded 5 Blood Amulets!]