Even Heretics Get Hungry

The moment I read the word "inquisitor," a chill ran down my spine. I'd gained the massive shield called the king, but it had drawn an equally massive amount of aggro. The religious faction's mad dogs were coming.

But I just smirked. Next to me stood the Demon King. Upstairs lived the ancient high mages. Down in the basement was a legendary chef. An inquisitor? Let them come. I'd show them the fiery taste of hell that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would leave their asses burning.

"Baron, sharpen the knives. Tomorrow we're doing some serious meat prep."

A heavy reply came from the kitchen.

"Got it, boss. I'll make them razor sharp."

BANG—!

The store door flew open so hard it looked like it might shatter. One of the hinges actually broke off. Through the cloud of dust, a woman stepped in wearing a white priest's robe layered with silver armor. Cold silver hair, blue eyes filled with contempt. In one hand she casually held a vicious-looking giant mace.

Inquisitor Vargas.

"Hmmm. So this is the place."

She sniffed the air.

"The disgusting stench of rotting corpses and... the foul odor of unholy magic. It's overwhelming."

Her gaze swept across the hall. Thankfully, I'd already evacuated the skeleton employees to the inner kitchen storage—the so-called 'ossuary.' The only ones left in the hall were me and Lucy, the red cat napping on the counter.

"Welcome, ma'am. You could've opened the door ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a bit more gently, you know."

I approached with the most customer-service smile I could muster.

"Are you the owner?"

Vargas pointed the end of her mace at my chest.

"Black hair, black eyes. And that sinister aura... So you're the black mage Daon who bewitched His Majesty the King?"

"Bewitched? I simply served him proper food."

"Silence!"

Her shout made the restaurant windows rattle.

"Food? Don't make me laugh. Anything made by a black mage is obviously poison that paralyzes the tongue with curses and hallucinations!"

She wasn't entirely wrong.

She strode forward.

"My name is Vargas. By order of the Church, I have come to purify this filthy den of evil. I will take your head and burn this building to the ground!"

She clearly wasn't interested in talking. A textbook fanatic. I glanced at Lucy. She just yawned, looking annoyed. That was her way of saying, Handle it yourself.

"Excuse me, Inquisitor."

I calmly stepped in front of her.

"Purification and execution are all well and good, but do you have any evidence?"

"Evidence? My nose is the evidence! The insane stench coming from this place is all the proof I need!"

"That's just prejudice. If you executed people based on smell alone, every sweaty mercenary would be on death row."

"W-what?!"

Her face flushed red. She clearly hadn't expected any backtalk.

"Give me a chance. Let me prove whether my cooking is truly poison or genuine cuisine."

I stared straight into her eyes.

"Try it yourself and judge. If even one bite makes you feel 'disgusted,' you can take my head right then and there."

Vargas snorted.

"Hah! A cheap trick. You think I'd fall for the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠curses mixed into your food?"

"Are you not confident? The famous 'Silver Executioner' is scared of a single dish... Well, if you're too chicken—"

"Scared?! Who?!"

She slammed her mace into the floor with a thunderous bang. The tile cracked. Great, more repair costs.

"Fine! Bring it! I will expose every filthy trick of yours with my holy power!"

Hook, line, and sinker. People like her really were weak to provocation.

I headed into the kitchen. Kastab poked his head out from the storage room.

"Hey, you okay? That woman's aura is no joke. I feel like I might ascend to the afterlife."

"I'm fine. Chef, I need the most 'pure' and 'clean' dish you've got."

"Pure? In a black mage's restaurant?"

"Yes. Something white and soft that will shatter her prejudices."

What we settled on was Heavenly Cream Risotto. Milk and fresh cream, loaded with premium cheese, cooked to perfect al dente so the white rice grains wouldn't turn to mush. And of course, I used the Cursed One's Touch skill.

I grinned. In CurseGirl's skill book, there was a passage that said: The strongest curse is the greatest pleasure.

Curses that cause pain could be blocked by holy power. But what about curses that brought pleasure? What if she disarmed herself?

"Perfect."

"Sorry for the wait."

I set the steaming risotto down in front of Vargas. Pure white on a white plate, lightly dusted with parsley.

"Hmph. It looks harmless enough on the surface."

Vargas picked up a spoon with deep suspicion. First, she placed her hand over the risotto and poured holy power into it.

"Purify!"

A white light enveloped the dish. But nothing happened. The curse had already become one with the food.

"There doesn't... seem to be any poison."

Relieved, she brought the spoon to her mouth.

"Let's see how revolting this tastes."

Chomp.

The moment it entered her mouth, a rich cream aroma exploded across her tongue. The savory depth of cheese and the satisfying pop of each rice grain. Vargas's brows furrowed.

It should taste bad. It should be disgusting.

But her brain was sending the complete opposite signal.

It's delicious. Insanely savory. So smooth!

And then the curse activated.

"Mmm...!"

A strange moan slipped from Vargas's lips. She had lived her entire life in the Church, practicing restraint. She'd only ever eaten hard bread and bland soup, viewing appetite itself as a sin. To her, this rich combination of fat and carbohydrates was nothing short of a drug.

"N-no...!! This can't be...!!!"

Her hand moved on its own. The spoon moved faster and faster.

"This is... a trap! A black magic... nom! Trap... munch munch!"

Despite her words, she was wolfing down the risotto. White cream sauce smeared around her mouth.

"It's so good... Damn it, it's too good! Oh Lord, forgive me! Slurp slurp!"

Her eyes grew moist. The sharp gaze that had always been so cold softened, and her cheeks flushed pink. The armor must have felt suffocating because she loosened her neck collar.

"It's hot... My body's burning up..."

She looked up at me. The killing intent from earlier was gone, replaced by the happy, puppy-like eyes of someone who'd just eaten a delicious meal.

"You... what exactly did you do to this food? Why can't I stop?"

"I simply put my heart into it. Inquisitor, weren't you actually quite hungry?"

I picked up a napkin and gently wiped the sauce from the corner of her mouth.

"Eek!"

She flinched, trying to pull back, but the back of the chair stopped her. At my touch, her face turned beet red.

"H-how rude! A filthy heretic daring to—!"

But she didn't slap my hand away. Instead, she avoided my eyes and licked her lips.

"......Not bad."

She muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I said it's delicious! Damn it! Your cooking passes!"

She scraped the bowl clean with a loud clatter. Breathing heavily, she glared at me.

"But don't get the wrong idea! Just because the food tastes good doesn't mean your sins are forgiven!"

"Then what will you do? Arrest me?"

"......"

Vargas fell into deep thought. If she arrested me, she'd never eat this risotto again. Going back to the Church meant returning to that tasteless oat porridge. Her eyes wavered. A fierce battle raged between her faith and her appetite.

"Surveillance... Yes, surveillance!"

She shouted as if she'd come up with a brilliant idea.

"You are a dangerous individual! There's no telling when you'll harm people with black magic again, so I will personally monitor you 24 hours a day!"

"Huh?"

"I will reside in this store and test every single dish you make first! If I detect any poison, I will execute you immediately!"

It sounded grandiose, but it basically meant Feed me for free every day. Still, it wasn't a bad offer. Having an inquisitor stationed in the store? That meant she'd block any other inquisitors from the Church who tried to storm in. The ultimate shield.

"Very well. Welcome aboard, Lady Vargas."

When I smiled and held out my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand, she hesitantly took it. Her gauntleted hand was trembling ever so slightly.

"H-hmph. Don't misunderstand. I'm only here to monitor you."