Chapter 203: Lucifer's Ideal Pokémon
The wooden door clicked shut, the sound echoing softly in the quiet restaurant.
Aragorn had left, stepping back into the shadow and uncertainty of his own world.
Ren stood behind the counter, wiping down a glass, but his movements were slower than usual.
His mood was complex, a blend of satisfaction and lingering solemnity.
In the brief time the Ranger had spent in the shop, Ren had witnessed the heavy burden of destiny resting on mortal shoulders.
He saw not just a warrior, but the undeniable nobility of a future king—a human nobility that shone brighter than any magic.
Lucifer sat on the high stool, swirling the remaining red wine in her glass.
She took a slow sip, her crimson eyes thoughtful as she stared at the closed door.
Finally, she nodded, a rare expression of genuine approval crossing her face.
"He was... acceptable," she murmured, her voice losing its usual haughty edge. "For a human."
Ren smiled, placing the polished glass back on the shelf.
"Lucifer, I didn't expect you, of all people, to actually believe that humans could win against such overwhelming darkness. Didn't you say his enemy was a demigod or something similar?"
Lucifer set her glass down with a sharp clink. She flipped her silver hair, her chin tilting upward in a display of supreme confidence.
"Of course I believe it. Do not underestimate the judgment of the Queen of Hell," she declared.
"I can see the structure of a soul, Ren. That man... his character is forged from steel and light. And as for those so-called Dark Lords, Saruman and Sauron?"
She scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.
"With the pitiful level of magic they possess in that realm, I doubt they could even scratch my passive magic shield. They are playing with shadows; I own the darkness."
Ren chuckled, leaning against the counter. "So, you're betting on the underdog because the villains are beneath your standards?"
"That, and... perhaps a bit of favoritism," Lucifer admitted, a sly smile curling her lips.
"Favoritism?" Ren raised an eyebrow.
"Because you and Rindou are both humans," she said softly, her gaze locking with his. "And I have found that humans can be quite... surprising."
Ren felt a warmth spread through his chest. He nodded, accepting the compliment without a word, letting the comfortable silence settle between them.
Meanwhile, across the boundaries of time and space, in the desolate wastelands of Middle-earth.
The wind howled through the jagged rocks, carrying the chill of the coming night.
It was a stark, unforgiving landscape, devoid of comfort.
Legolas Greenleaf stood poised on a ridge, his elven eyes narrowing as he stared at a small cave opening a few hundred yards away.
Beside him, Gimli, son of Glóin, paced back and forth, his heavy boots crunching loudly on the gravel.
"I don't like it," the dwarf grumbled, his hand resting on the handle of his axe. "He's been gone too long. And that light... have you ever seen a fire burn that steady?"
They had passed the cave only minutes ago, drawn by a strange, warm glow emanating from within.
Gimli had dismissed it as a campfire, perhaps bandits or orcs, but Legolas had stopped him.
"No, Master Dwarf," Legolas said, his voice barely a whisper against the wind. "That is not fire. Fire flickers. Fire consumes."
He pointed a slender finger toward the cave mouth.
"That light is... still. It is soft, like the morning sun in Lothlórien. It feels... safe."
"Safe? In this forsaken land?" Gimli snorted, kicking a pebble. "Nothing is safe here. I say we go in. If Aragorn has run into trouble, my axe is thirsty."
"Wait," Legolas commanded, though his own hand tightened on his bow. "If Aragorn had encountered danger, there would be the sound of steel. There is only silence."
"Silence is worse," Gimli muttered, his anxiety peaking. "I'm going in."
Just as the dwarf took a determined step forward, a shadow detached itself from the light within the cave.
Aragorn emerged.
The glow behind him flared once, brilliant and inviting, before vanishing completely, leaving the cave dark and empty as if it had never been occupied.
"Aragorn!" Gimli shouted, rushing forward.
He grabbed the Ranger's arms, checking him for wounds. "You look... the same. Better, even. By Durin's beard, you look like you've just slept in a feather bed!"
Aragorn smiled, the weariness that usually etched his face significantly lightened.
In his hand, he carried a large, strange bag made of a material neither dwarf nor elf had ever seen—smooth, black canvas with silver zippers.
"You might not believe it, my friends," Aragorn said, sitting down on a flat rock with a relaxed sigh.
"But inside that cave was a gate. A gate to another world."
"Another world?" Legolas lowered his bow, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes," Aragorn nodded, his eyes reflecting the memory of the warm restaurant. "I met humans there. They live in a place of warmth and happiness, untouched by the Shadow. They greeted me as a friend."
Gimli slapped his forehead, the sound ringing in the cold air.
"I told you not to go in! The air in there must have been poisoned! Look at him, Legolas, he's speaking in riddles and nonsense!"
Legolas shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed on the bag in Aragorn's hand.
"I do not think he is mad, Gimli. Look at what he carries."
The elf moved closer, touching the fabric of the bag tentatively.
"I have walked this earth for many centuries. I have seen the craft of elves, dwarves, and men. I have never seen a weave like this. It is flawless."
Aragorn chuckled, unzipping the bag. The sound—zzzzzip—made Gimli jump and reach for his axe again.
"Peace, Gimli. It is just a fastener," Aragorn reassured him.
"This ground is far too hard compared to the soft chairs of that place... but we must eat. My friend, Ren, gave me supplies for our journey."
"Supplies?" Gimli grunted, peering suspiciously at the bag. "Unless it's salted pork and hardtack, I don't see how it will survive the..."
Aragorn opened the main compartment.
Whoosh.
An aroma exploded into the cold night air.
It was a scent so rich, so savory, and so incredibly warm that it practically physically hit them.
It smelled of slow-cooked meat, caramelized sugar, rich spices, and fresh, fluffy dough.
Gimli's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He swallowed audibly, his suspicion vanishing instantly.
"By the Maker..." Gimli whispered, salivating. "That smell... they seem like very good friends indeed."
Aragorn reached in and pulled out a paper-wrapped package. He tossed it to the dwarf.
"For you, Gimli. Ren called it a 'Braised Pork Bun'."
Gimli caught it. The package was still warm—actually warm!
He tore open the paper to reveal a white, pillowy bun split down the middle, stuffed with a thick slab of pork belly that glistened with a dark, savory glaze.
In Middle-earth, meat was a utility. It was salted, dried, or roasted over a smoky fire until tough.
But this?
Gimli took a massive bite.
"Oh... Oh!"
His teeth sank through the impossibly soft, slightly sweet dough, meeting the meat which simply disintegrated upon contact.
The fat had rendered down into a creamy richness, exploding with flavors of soy, star anise, and ginger.
"It melts!" Gimli cried out, chewing frantically. "The meat melts like snow! And the bread is like a cloud!"
Aragorn smiled, watching his friend's joy. He then reached into the bag again, pulling out two different containers.
"Ren knows that the Elves prefer lighter fare," Aragorn said, looking at Legolas. "He prepared something called 'Vegetarian Pies' and 'Fruit Tarts' for you."
He tossed the items to the elf.
Legolas caught them with grace. He opened the first container.
Inside was a golden, flaky pastry filled with spinach, feta cheese, and herbs.
"Remarkable," Legolas murmured, sniffing it. "It smells of fresh gardens. Not dried herbs, but green, living plants."
He took a bite, the pastry shattering delicately.
"And this..." He opened the second container to reveal a tart topped with fresh strawberries, blueberries, and a glaze that shone like jewels.
"Fruit? Fresh fruit in this wasteland?" Legolas looked at Aragorn with awe. "This is magic, Aragorn. Better magic than any ring."
Aragorn took out his own portion—a beef stew in a thermal container—and began to eat.
The warmth spread from his stomach to his limbs, chasing away the chill of the wind.
"Such a taste..." Aragorn mused quietly. "It must only be found in a place of true peace. A place where people have the time to care about flavor."
"Cough! Cough! Cough!"
Gimli was eating so fast he started to choke on the bun. "Water! Do they have water?"
Aragorn laughed and pulled out a modern sports water bottle—sleek, blue plastic with a flip-cap. He threw it to the dwarf.
Gimli fumbled with the cap, eventually figuring it out, and took a massive gulp.
He paused, lowering the bottle. He wiped the droplets from his beard and lay back on the hard ground, staring at the stars.
"Clean," Gimli breathed. "It's... perfectly clean. No grit, no mud, no taste of the riverbed. Just pure water."
He sighed contentedly. "Aragorn, your friend is a good person. A kingly person."
"He is our friend now," Aragorn corrected gently.
"He told me how to return. When this war is over... when the Shadow is defeated... let us all go there. Let us sit in his chairs and eat his food."
"A fine goal," Legolas agreed, finishing his tart. "Do we need to mark the cave?"
"No," Aragorn shook his head. "Ren said we simply need to find a door. Any door. And if we think of that place with intent, the way will open. Believe me, you will not dislike it."
Legolas took the water bottle from Gimli, taking a refined sip.
"It seems you have had an extraordinary experience, Ranger. This 'Ren'... I do not think you would have such stories to tell after a mere hour."
Aragorn thumped his chest, right over his heart where the memory of the restaurant burned bright.
"The time was indeed short, Legolas. But the lesson I learned there... the hope I found... that will last a very long time."
"Tell us," Gimli demanded, sitting up and burping contentedly. "Tell us everything."
"I would be happy to share this teaching..."
Under the vast, dark canopy of the night sky, amidst a wasteland of rocks and danger, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a King sat in a circle.
For the first time in weeks, the crushing weight of their quest felt a little lighter.
They ate food from another world, drank pure water, and listened to a story about a shop where everyone was welcome.
Back in the Dimensional Restaurant, the atmosphere was relaxed.
Ren stretched his arms above his head, hearing his spine crack satisfyingly.
"In that case, twenty guests have officially been gathered," he announced, looking at the system panel that only he could see.
"Tomorrow morning, I should know exactly how the shop will be upgraded. I hope there will be something interesting this time."
Lucifer, now bored with her wine, was playing with a lock of her hair.
"Hmm. I hope there can be an upgrade that allows physical travel to Another World," she mused.
"I really want to go to the Pokémon world. I've been reading up on it."
Ren tilted his head, amused. "Oh? The Queen of Hell wants a pocket monster? Which one caught your eye?"
"Mew!" Lucifer declared instantly.
"Mew?" Ren blinked. "Uh... that one isn't exactly easy to catch, Lucy. It's a mythical Pokémon. It can turn invisible, teleport, and it's incredibly shy. Most people go their whole lives without even seeing a footprint."
Lucifer crossed her arms, a smug grin appearing on her face.
"Ren, you forget who I am. Because it's Another World, the restrictive laws of Earth don't apply. I can use my magic completely!"
She flexed her fingers, small sparks of crimson energy dancing between them.
"Invisibility? Teleportation? I can do all of that. I'll just bind it with a demonic circle. Easily~ Those stiff guys back in Hell would never know!"
Somewhere in the abyss, Pandemonica, the Tired Demon, suddenly sneezed over her coffee. "Eh? Why do I feel a disturbance in the paperwork?"
Ren laughed, nodding. "Hmm. That actually makes some sense. If you use brute magical force, I suppose a Mew isn't out of the question."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Personally, if we go, I think a Gardevoir would be pretty good to have around."
"Gardevoir?" Lucifer's ears perked up.
"Yeah," Ren continued, oblivious to the change in the air. "It's a Psychic type, very loyal. It can help with chores, serve tables, maybe even help with prep work in the kitchen. Very practical."
The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.
"Hmm?" Lucifer narrowed her eyes, her voice taking on a dangerous, sugary tone.
"Ren... tell me the truth. Are you trying to make a move on a Gardevoir?"
"Excuse me?" Ren looked at her, confused.
"I've seen pictures!" Lucifer stood up, slamming her hands on the counter. "It looks like a woman in a dress! A very elegant woman!"
"It's a Pokémon, Lucy," Ren sighed.
"It seems you still don't believe me?" Ren teased, leaning closer.
Lucifer faltered. She looked at his calm, smiling face and felt her anger deflate, replaced by a flustered heat.
"Don't believe what? Uh... I... I believe you!" she stammered, looking away.
"It's just... having a Gardevoir do chores... yes, that makes sense! Ah haha!"
Internally, Lucifer was screaming.
I don't believe it! Men are all wolves! He definitely wants a waifu Pokémon! But outwardly, she meekly accepted his explanation.
In her dictionary, this was called "tactical surrender."
Surrendering to her loved one during their alone time wasn't embarrassing; it was a strategic move to maintain the mood!
"However," Lucifer added, regaining some composure and pointing a finger at him.
"No matter what happens, do not catch any dog-type Pokémon."
"Oh?" Ren asked. "Why?"
"Because if you bring home a Houndoom or an Arcanine, Cerberus might actually go crazy with jealousy. She wants to be the only dog in your life."
"Hmm~ Good point," Ren agreed.
At that exact moment, on the second floor of the restaurant.
Cerberus was sleeping soundly, all three of her bodies sprawled across a massive bed.
The center Cerberus was hugging a pillow tightly, drooling slightly.
Suddenly, her ears twitched.
She turned over in her sleep, a frown marring her peaceful expression.
She didn't know why, but she had just felt a profound disturbance in the Force.
If she had to describe it, it was the distinct sensation of being backstabbed by her own boss.
But the feeling quickly disappeared into the fog of dreams, replaced by visions of endless bones and giant steaks.
The night in the Dimensional Restaurant continued, peaceful and warm, unaware of the adventures—and the jealousies—that the morning upgrade would bring.