Chapter 60. Forced to Taste

"Well, this is rare. Jo, you actually brought a girl with you." The owner had just hung up his noren when he saw Qiao Qiao walking over with Arisu Asano.

"Oh, isn't this the little girl from the Asano family?" The owner quickly recognized Arisu Asano.

"Hm? You know me?" Arisu tilted her head. She had heard of the Midnight Diner and knew the owner was an exorcist, but she couldn't recall ever meeting him in person.

"The first time I saw you, you had just been born," the owner said with a smile. "Every time your father saw me, he would force me to look at your latest photos, saying, 'Look, isn't my daughter the cutest girl in the world?' Tsk, tsk." At last, he added, "You look a lot like your mother."

The three of them entered the diner.

"Boss, I want to borrow your kitchen for a bit," Qiao Qiao said.

"Of course," the owner nodded, poured a cup of tea for Arisu, and took a seat nearby.

"I've never had anything cooked by Jo before," the owner remarked.

"Teacher is going to make dan dan noodles!" Arisu said, her excitement barely contained.

"It's dan dan noodles," Qiao Qiao corrected from the kitchen, where he was already busy.

"Teacher?" The owner raised an eyebrow at the term.

"Yes, I'm learning exorcism techniques under him," Arisu replied matter-of-factly.

"His exorcism techniques… you mean the bang-bang-bang kind?" the owner asked.

"Exactly!"

Looking at Arisu, the owner suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. At that moment, his phone rang. The caller ID read "Asano."

He stepped outside to answer.

"Is my daughter with you?" As soon as he picked up, Shoji Asano's accusatory voice came through.

The owner paused, momentarily stunned. Shoji Asano, do you consult spirits about everything?

"She is," he replied.

"There's no one strange around her, is there?"

"That depends on what you consider 'strange.'"

"As long as there isn't. Lately, Arisu's suddenly taken an interest in war movies and military knowledge. She even subscribed to several weapons magazines. I can't help but worry she’s being led astray."

The owner glanced surreptitiously back into the diner. Arisu was swinging her legs eagerly from her high seat, anticipation written all over her face.

"She's practically your goddaughter, after all. Shrine affairs keep me busy, so I can't always watch her. Keep an eye on her for me," came Shoji’s voice again.

"You weren’t saying that when you married Eino," the owner retorted.

"I was young and impulsive then… Didn't I bring Arisu to apologize to you later?"

Wasn't that more like a victor flaunting his prize before the defeated? The owner thought but left it unsaid.

"All right, I'll look after her. I'll send her back to the shrine after dinner," the owner said, hanging up and returning inside.

Qiao Qiao was already firing up the stove. The aroma of sizzling ground meat wafted from the wok, the spiciness tingling the nose. Even the owner couldn’t help but swallow.

A short while later, three steaming bowls of noodles were set on the table. Thinner than udon, the noodles soaked in a reddish broth, white strands topped with dark crumbled meat and specks of green scallion.

If Japanese cuisine was delicate and refined, then this bowl was casual and hearty.

The fragrance reached Arisu first. She took a deep sniff, only to immediately sneeze.

It seemed a little spicy.

"There’s no Sichuan pepper or chili oil here, so the flavor might be milder than the authentic version—just mildly spicy," Qiao Qiao explained.

Looking at the bright red broth, the owner and Arisu exchanged doubtful glances.

You call this ‘mildly’ spicy?

Ignoring their doubts, Qiao Qiao picked up his chopsticks and stirred the noodles, deepening the color of the broth. He took a big slurp, looking very content.

"Aren’t you going to eat, boss?" Arisu asked, noticing the owner hadn’t moved.

"I can’t handle hot food," he replied, eyes half-closed, unmoved.

"Oh, I see." Arisu picked up a few noodles, blew on them, and put them in her mouth.

In an instant, her face flushed from her neck to the tips of her ears. She swallowed, set her chopsticks down, drained her tea, and poured herself a large glass of water. Only after several gulps did the heat subside.

"So spicy," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

As expected of teacher. So this is how he trains himself, eating such spicy food daily. No wonder he’s so steadfast and resilient, constantly pushing his limits.

In her admiration, Arisu realized that as the heat faded, a lingering fragrance remained in her mouth. On closer taste, it was actually quite pleasant—a completely new experience, different from any ramen she’d had before.

She took another bite.

"Spicy, spicy, spicy…"

But delicious!

As her mouth gradually adapted to the heat, Arisu was soon slurping down the noodles in big mouthfuls, sweat pouring down her forehead, even dampening her clothes.

It felt like a day of strenuous training—exhausting but satisfying.

As expected of teacher. Even his food carries profound lessons.

Watching Qiao Qiao and Arisu devour the noodles, the owner picked up his chopsticks, dipped them in the broth, and tasted it.

What kind of physiology do these two have?

Without a word, he gulped down a large glass of water.

…

Night in Tokyo was ablaze with neon lights. Saeki Ayumi, a university student, walked unsteadily down the street—she’d had quite a bit to drink, though she remained clearheaded.

University dorms in Japan were hard to get into, requiring a lottery. Ayumi lived alone in a cheap apartment near campus.

Under the streetlights, her shadow stretched long and deep. There was a public park nearby, usually bustling with people, but tonight, for some reason, she was the only one there. The place felt oddly empty.

Ayumi didn’t mind. She walked along, staring at her phone. Even after leaving the party, her friends kept chatting endlessly in their Line group.

"Honestly, everyone’s finding a boyfriend so quickly—I can’t lose, either," she muttered to herself.

Suddenly, a chill breeze blew across the back of her neck. Though late May and early summer, it felt cold enough to make her shiver.

"So cold," she murmured, quickening her pace.

She’d barely taken two steps when—

"Hey."

A voice called from behind.

"Eh?" Ayumi turned instinctively.

A face appeared less than four inches from hers.

The stranger spoke.

"Hey."