Baron Jack wasn’t actually that stupid… Really, you’ve gotta believe me.

At the very least, he knew how to tell his guests apart and understood that not everyone could get along.

So the banquet was split into two sections:

One was an outdoor social area, known as the lounge, for guests who weren’t especially high in social standing but still carried some weight in certain fields.

The other was mainly for distinguished guests. Viscount Bailu, who’d warned Baron Jack at the manor gates, was one of the main hall’s guests—and Hathaway was, naturally, another.

The main hall was much quieter than the lounge, making it easier to talk business.

At this level, everyone knew their place. They understood which area they belonged in and what sort of people they were qualified to meet. After all, forcing your way into a circle that wasn’t yours would only make you miserable—and earn you a reputation for not knowing your place.

There might’ve been only a few dozen people in the main hall, but the lounge was packed. You could’ve called it a miniature Rulvis City and plenty of people would’ve believed you. It had people from every profession imaginable.

Even as dusk settled in, the night couldn’t dampen the people of Rulvis’s enthusiasm. Exclamations kept rising from the outdoor lounge. Nothing got people drunk on pleasure faster than alcohol and flattery.

And the Demon King who ruled over countless demons, whose raised hand could overturn the Morningstar Continent and plunge untold lives into misery—Comrade Lin Xingyun—was currently carrying a plate of food, wandering around and eating. He was like a glutton who’d gone hungry for days before charging headfirst into an all-you-can-eat buffet.

If Hathaway hadn’t prepared an expensive set of understated clothes for him beforehand, people might’ve suspected he’d snuck in. He looked ready to eat a whole year’s worth of dinners in advance:

Have you ever seen anyone eat their way from the first table to the last without stopping once?

—There were more than a dozen tables!

And keep in mind, this was a large banquet, the kind that could serve hundreds without feeling crowded. Every table was well over ten meters long.

Even if you took only a little from each one, there’d still be enough to bury a person by the end.

This “feat” had already made Lin Xingyun the center of attention for plenty of people. After all, they’d never seen anyone eat this much.

Lin Xingyun’s reasoning was simple: Since he was already here, he might as well eat plenty. It wasn’t his money, anyway, so he wouldn’t feel bad about eating it all.

If Hathaway had been around, Lin Xingyun might’ve shown a little restraint. He still had to maintain his Demon King image in front of his subordinates, after all.

But the important thing was that she wasn’t here, so Lin Xingyun simply let loose.

I’m done pretending. I’m coming clean.jpg

As he reached the last few tables, Lin Xingyun couldn’t help reflecting. The Demon Kings in anime did whatever they wanted. Why did a Demon King like him have to think so far ahead and worry about his image?

…Maybe he should change things up?

At the thought, Lin Xingyun stopped mid-motion and began to seriously consider it. Had he been cultivating the wrong image in front of Hathaway these past few days?

—Maybe he should be a little less uptight?

What Lin Xingyun didn’t expect was that when he put down his plate, a small group of people nearby burst into cheers:

“Hahaha, I won! I won! He really didn’t make it to the last table!”

“A bet’s a bet! Don’t even think about backing out!”

“Aw, there were only a few tables left. How’d he not make it to the end…?”

Lin Xingyun: …

Good grief, these people had been taking bets on him!

Once he figured out what had happened, Lin Xingyun couldn’t help laughing.

“Whatever, eating comes first. Eating comes first.” After laughing, Lin Xingyun didn’t feel like joining in. He turned around, ready to see how the desserts at the remaining tables tasted.

But just then, a sarcastic voice rang out from the crowd:

“Has Sir Jack’s banquet really sunk to the point where just anyone can get in?”

A young man who looked down on the world stepped out of the crowd. His gaze at Lin Xingyun held textbook-worthy contempt, as if simply attending the same banquet as him were an insult to his status.

“…It’s Frodo! What’s he doing here?”

“Oh, this is bad. Looks like this poor guy’s in for it. Frodo’s not someone you want to mess with.”

“He can only pray for the best.”

Someone sharp-eyed immediately identified the young man.

Frodo… Who was that?

Everyone around him looked like they knew who Frodo was. Lin Xingyun seemed to be the only one standing there completely baffled.

Frodo himself wasn’t anything special, but his father had done quite well for himself. He was a wealthy merchant who, like Baron Jack, chose to solve problems with money—though he ranked higher than Baron Jack and even served as the head of a merchant guild.

Frodo usually threw his weight around in Rulvis City, relying on his father’s connections. Naturally, his reputation spread.

“Hey, kid, I’m talking to you. What are you looking at?”

Frodo saw that Lin Xingyun was looking around instead of paying attention to his accusations, as if he didn’t take him seriously. He immediately flared up. Was there really some new face in Rulvis City who dared treat him like this?

Frodo hadn’t picked a fight with Lin Xingyun for no reason. Several young ladies he’d wanted to chat up had all used “I want to see what’s going on over there with Lin Xingyun” as an excuse to slip away. He’d struck out several times in a row, and it had really pissed him off.

—What could he say? His reputation was so bad that the young ladies went out of their way to avoid him.

Frodo was so used to throwing his weight around that it never occurred to him his own behavior might be the problem. Instead, he blamed Lin Xingyun for all of it.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t make such a spectacle of myself after sneaking in. Aren’t you worried someone might throw you out?” Frodo sneered, enjoying the attention of the crowd as he threatened Lin Xingyun.

He’d mistaken Lin Xingyun for the sort of freeloader who’d snuck in to eat and drink. How could someone with any real status indulge like this without a care?

Even that finely tailored outfit must’ve been stolen from some high-end shop. It didn’t suit a nobody like him. Only someone like Frodo had the status to wear clothes like that!

Looking at Frodo, standing right in front of him with the words “picking a fight” practically written on his face, Lin Xingyun quickly figured out what was going on—and couldn’t help feeling amused:

—Heh. Someone actually dared pick a fight with the Demon King?

The hero hadn’t even shown up yet, and you were already here, eager to get yourself wrecked?

Suppressing a laugh, Lin Xingyun copied Frodo’s expression. First, he shot him a look of disdain, then tossed out the same kind of snarky line:

“What’s the matter? Did I eat your family’s rice or something?”

The moment he said it, the whole place fell silent. Only the lilting music continued to drift overhead.

Even the smile on Frodo’s face froze:

“E-Eat… my family’s rice?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Ha… Hahaha! Hahahaha!”

One person couldn’t hold back a laugh. Even after covering their mouth, the laughter spread through the onlookers like a yawn, and soon the whole lounge was filled with laughter.

—They might not have known what Lin Xingyun meant by “rice,” but that didn’t stop them from understanding his point from his expression.

Even the young ladies Frodo had tried to chat up were laughing along with everyone else, shaking with laughter and no longer sparing him an ounce of face.

Going from the center of attention to the butt of everyone’s jokes shattered Frodo’s composure.

When had anyone ever treated him like this?

“You…” Frodo was so angry his face twisted. He glared daggers at Lin Xingyun, looking ready to swallow him whole.

“You what? Me what?” Lin Xingyun cut him off with an eye-roll and shot back, “I didn’t eat anything of yours. Why are you getting so worked up? Or is your family so poor there’s nothing left to eat, and you can’t spare even this much?”

At Lin Xingyun’s words, Frodo laughed in sheer fury. As the son of a wealthy merchant, when had anyone ever called his family poor?

A single button from his outfit could cover an ordinary family’s food for a week. And the cost of just one of his meals was a figure most people couldn’t even imagine!

Even the people around them were so shocked their jaws dropped. They all stared in disbelief:

This was the first time any of them had heard someone call Frodo poor.

[You little punk, you’re dead today. Even my dad’s never scolded me.]

A fierce glint flashed in Frodo’s eyes. He swore that if he didn’t teach this young upstart a lesson in what “regret” meant today, he’d write his own name backward!

“I’m going to—!?”

But just as Frodo was about to speak, he suddenly found that his body was no longer under his control. It was as if someone had pinned his hands down, stopping him from doing anything. He couldn’t even speak!

All he could do was stare fixedly at Lin Xingyun with wide, startled eyes.

Doubt and fear swirled in his gaze.

“You’re going to…? Oh, come on. If you want some, just say so. You’re making everyone think you want to fight me. What’s the point?”

While Frodo was still standing there in a daze, Lin Xingyun suddenly brought over his plate and shoved it into Frodo’s hands. Some of the braising sauce still on the plate smeared onto his clothes, sentencing the outfit—worth who knew how many weeks of an ordinary family’s meals—to death, with a stay of execution.

—That move made Frodo’s brain crash.

Lin Xingyun reached out and gently patted his shoulder. The two of them stood beside the table, looking for all the world like Lin Xingyun was abdicating the throne, as if he were telling Frodo:

“I conquered all this. Now it’s yours.”

Frodo: …

Frodo had an awful lot of things he wanted to say, but not one of them would come out. He felt like the world was spinning around him.

“Take your time, buddy. I’ll be off, then.” Before leaving, Lin Xingyun made a point of nodding to everyone watching, signaling that they shouldn’t disturb Frodo while he enjoyed his food. Everyone nodded in agreement. “It’s all yours, so don’t eat too fast or you’ll choke.”

As soon as Lin Xingyun finished speaking, Frodo—who’d thought hell couldn’t possibly be any worse—suddenly found his body moving again. He headed straight for the table.

Under the astonished gazes of the people around him, Frodo watched the table of beautifully presented, fragrant dishes draw closer and closer. His face was full of despair and terror.

Nooooooo—!!!

It might not be the same time, but it was the same place. Today, Frodo was going to show everyone how to polish off a whole table of food in one go.

Let’s go, bros! Chug it down!

After tonight, Frodo, Rulvis’s notorious spoiled rich kid, would have a legendary story known across the entire city: Three bites. One whole pig.

Leaving the bustling crowd behind and putting the lounge’s clamor at his back, Lin Xingyun headed for the main hall where Hathaway was.

A mischievous smile stayed on his face. He was clearly in a pretty good mood:

“…Time to see if Hathaway’s having fun.”

He knew Hathaway wouldn’t disappoint him.