The Devil's Cage

Spark! Spark! Gzzzzt!

Electric sparks sounded endlessly, the streetlamps flickering.

Kieran turned a blind eye, tossing the newspaper on the bar counter and going into it, even placing the busy Starbeck behind him.

A Few seconds later, a figure appeared within Kieran's sight.

The figure wore a white nightdress with red floral patterns over it, the hair messy and the face rather pale. Brown eyes glanced over at Kiean before the figure entered the restaurant.

The figure sat down at the chair in front of the bar counter.

"What are you having?" Kieran asked after the woman sat down.

"Chicken soup,"

Her voice was rough, as if she hadn't talked for a long time.

"Roye, a bowl of chicken soup," Kieran said without turning back.

"Okay, brother."

Starbeck took out a bowl from the disinfected cabinet and filled it with soup beside the big pot.

When the lid of the pot opened up, a rich chicken smell flew in the air.

Starbeck's cooking was remarkable, even if his skills were sealed, his cooking still something people could only dream of catching up to.

He could use the simplest ingredients to cook up something mouth-watering. Perhaps his skills were still far away from turning bad into good, but he had no problem standing out with his skills.

However, this customer who entered the restaurant wasn't moved by the smell, sitting there and exchanging stares with Kieran.

When Starbeck brought the bowl of chicken soup out and saw the female customer, his face turned pale. His hands trembled hard, the soup almost falling off his hand but Kieran quickly cut in and saved it.

"Go back to your work," said Kieran softly. He then turned around and served the soup to the customer.

"Chicken soup," Kieran sounded colder than before.

The female customer didn't speak, picking up the bowl and started drinking.

Her actions were slow, to the point that it'd freeze for a second or two.

The bowl of soup wasn't a lot, yet the woman used around 2 minutes to finish it before she put it back down.

"Thank you," she thanked Kieran with her rough voice, taking out a stack of currency notes and placing it beside the empty bowl before walking out.

Gzzzzzt!

Electrical sparks swirled around the streetlamps once more, but unlike earlier, after a few sparks, the lights returned to normal and the little path in front of the restaurant became brighter.

"S-She is a dead person?" Starbeck finally dared to ask in his scared voice.

Although he was still afraid, his experience gradually increased, especially when he decided to follow Kieran. Starbeck made up his mind to learn about the dungeon worlds and big city. It became easy for him to identify a dead person.

"Mm," Kieran nodded, his eyes looking at the bowl of soup which the spirit touched before and the stack of money that she put down. His eyes showed an interested gaze.

"Shouldn't the dead hate the living?" Starbeck asked in confusion.

"There are exceptions too, or should I say, it's different in this world. Unique Dungeon eh? Things are getting interesting," Kieran chuckled. He put down the electric baton and passed the newspaper on the bar counter to Starbeck.

The newspaper was the latest edition.

The picture of John Dickson, the serial killer and the killer of his wife, was on the front page and beside the killer was a picture of a lady.

Although blurred, Starbeck could tell the lady was the customer who had just left.

"S-She's John Dickson's wife? Why was she here!?" Starbeck asked in surprise.

"She was here to thank us," Kieran checked the stack of money before giving it to Starbeck.

The amount was 10,000.

Starbeck was a little lost after receiving the money.

It wasn't because of the amount of money he received. For a wealthy person like Starbeck, money was never about the numbers, even though things slightly changed after he entered the dungeon world, he still wasn't surprised by the money. What surprised him was the dead in this world did not attack the living based on instinct and even paid for the favour.

This was truly… bizarre.

Starbeck came up with the comment after a while.

He then put the money into the almost empty money box carefully.

Their initial funds were all from John Dickson and after the spending for ingredients in the afternoon, they almost hit rock bottom. Even though Starbeck had a blurry concept about how valuable money was, he still knew money was essential for them to survive through the duration in this dungeon world.

Not all customers were as generous as the special woman, and Kieran never planned to truly operate this restaurant, so the money had an extra meaning to it.

'Hope this will be enough,' Starbeck thought in his heart.

A sense of danger rose in his heart. Unlike the fear of everything else, this would be the first time in Starbeck's life that he had to worry about money.

It was a fresh experience but also an anxious one.

As the freshness and anxiety lingered in his mind, he turned back to the kitchen.

He ought to use the current ingredients to cook something that smelled better and tasted better, to attract more customers—although Kieran would never really care about the restaurant, this restaurant was the only way Starbeck knew how to earn money.

The hustling in the kitchen interrupted Kieran's thoughts. He looked down at the electric baton.

The dead were weak against electricity and fire, hence why Kieran purposely kept this electric baton from John Dickson's hotel when he tidied up the place.

The electric baton would be the best item he had against the dead, but judging from the female customer, this electric baton somehow felt lackluster.

Perhaps it was enough to deal with ordinary wandering souls or even the female customers, but who knew what was out there? There must be something even more powerful.

Should powerful spirits with a consciousness appear, an electric baton was obviously not enough.

Kieran would at least need a flamethrower, but it was fairly impossible to get his hands on one with his current identity or channels.

If the science part couldn't help, the mystical part may be of use.

Fortunately, he had a skill that he could use to handle the situation at hand.

"Cracked ruby and volcanic ashes, eh?" Kieran muttered.

He then shook his head.

Given his level of [Mystical Knowledge], even if [Burning Hand] was sealed, it was not too difficult for him to perform a mystical attack.

However, a cracked ruby wasn't something that he could buy from the supermarket, and even if this world had it, he had no money.

Still, Kieran was far from giving up. 'Give Up' was not included in Kieran's dictionary.

He thought of a way that he could substitute the materials but that was a task for another day.

Now?

More customers arrived at the restaurant.

This time, it was two ladies, one looking helpless and one looking drunk. The helpless one was helping the drunk one up and the moment they stepped in, the drunk one made noise, "Alcohol! Give me alcohol!"

"We don't serve alcohol here. Please go to the next one." Kieran said coldly.

His cold attitude was because of the helpless one kept showing him an apologetic gaze, otherwise he would have thrown the drunk one out.

"N-No alcohol? T-Then what do you have? Serve me whatever you have! I have the money!"

The drunk lady couldn't even speak well in her state.

This was the reason why Kieran hated to deal with drunkards.

Under the influence of alcohol, one would lose all manners and become exceptionally troublesome.

Fortunately, beside the drunk lady was a clear-minded one.

"We will have a bowl of chicken soup please," the other lady quickly made an order when she saw Kieran furrow his brows.

"Fine," Kieran turned around and went for the bowl of soup.

"H-How much for chicken soup?" the drunk lady spoke again.

"That will be 10 bucks," Kieran revealed the price.

Perhaps the price for normal people in this world was a little too high, but from Kieran's point of view, Starbeck's brand of chicken soup was definitely worth the price.

If it wasn't for Starbeck's suggestion, he would have increased the price ten fold.

Slam!

The drunk lady slammed the table, stood up, and started to falter. If it wasn't for the other lady beside her, she would have fallen, but the drunk lady did not appreciate the help, pushing her friend away but failing. She then shouted, "Is my beauty not worth a dime?"

She crawled her way onto the bar counter and stuck her face closer to Kieran.

Her eyelashes were long, her eyes were enigmatically captivating after being drunk, and her cheeks were red. Together with her young and energetic presence, she was definitely a beauty to the eye. However, she reeked of alcohol, and no matter how beautiful she was, Kieran would pick Bloody Mary over her anyday, especially after she slammed the table.

After some thought…

"100 bucks then," Kieran said the price that he initially marked up.

"That's more like it! Other normal dudes pay 10 bucks, a beauty like me must of course pay 100!" the drunk lady then sat back down.

Never reason with a drunkard, their thoughts are not on the same dimension.

Kieran served the bowl of chicken soup to her. He calmly told himself, 'You are opening a business now, patience gives birth to wealth.'

He avoided the alcoholic stench and turned around for a deep breath, then went behind the bar counter with his newspaper again.

However, it seemed like the drunk woman didn't want to lose a person to talk to.

"Hey owner, what do you think love is?"

"200 bucks if you throw up on the floor," Kieran said without looking at her.

"What 200 bucks? Do I look like someone who will throw up on the floor?" the drunk lady yelled.

"300 bucks if you throw up on the table," Kieran added.

The other lady repeatedly bowed with her hands on the table, hoping for Kieran's generosity. She then turned to her friend and tried to talk her down, yet her persuasion seemed to cause a negative effect.

"Don't you touch me! I know you and those bastards are together! I bet you are looking at me like a joke now, right? F*ck off!" the drunk lady pushed away her friend.

The other lady was caught off guard and pushed to the floor, even the bowl of chicken soup almost fell off the table.

Kieran quickly leaned forward and reached out to save the bowl of soup, looking at the drunk lady with an angry gaze.

"Do you think I am wrong? Why am I wrong? I just want to be in love, what's wrong with that? Why does he have to be so two-minded, why does he always go to the little bitches?"

The drunk lady shuddered in front of Kieran's angry gaze, instantly waking up a little but the other part, which was still heavily drunk, felt that it was too cowardly to back off, so she put on her fierce face and shouted at Kieran.

She shouted at first but gradually turned softer, and other than Kieran, even the other lady couldn't hear what she said.

"You are not wrong. You are very right. Man doesn't have love, so he'll love whoever is beautiful." Women don't have love either, so she'll love whoever is good to her. So love was praised by people, because of its good side. Love is beautiful and also good to you but is it real?" Kieran asked.

"If love isn't real, what is?" the drunk lady asked in a daze.

"This is," Kieran placed the chicken soup in front of the lady and continued, "Love can be nurtured, you will eventually find the right person but the soup, you must drink it while it's hot."

Looking at the chicken soup, her heavy head was baffled by confusion.

She felt the words Kieran said made no sense but it sounded right also.

She tried to argue, but no words formed in her mind.

In the end, she finished every drop of the chicken soup.

She then pulled out a 100 bucks note and placed it beside the empty bowl.

"Money for the soup."

The drunk lady then staggered away.

The other lady stood up, bowed to Kieran apologetically, and ran out in a hurry.

Kieran kept the money and the bowl and passed them to Starbeck again.

Starbeck received the money, his eyes at Kieran showing a little surprised.

"What's wrong?" Kieran asked.

"I think what you said just now made a lot of sense," Starbeck said seriously.

"Really? That's because the author made it sound reasonable."

Kieran then passed the newspaper, which he had finished reading, to Starbeck. In the love column, the words Kieran just said were clearly written down.

Starbeck looked at the love column and laughed.

"You think it's ridiculous also, right? He doesn't even understand things yet he wanted to guide people. If he really understands love, why would he whine here?" said Kieran.

Starbeck didn't answer, smiling at Kieran. He felt Kieran was much more genuine in this kind of situation, much more genuine than the flame swirling, killer-intents filled Kieran.

"Good."

Starbeck put down the newspaper and hopped back to the kitchen with the used bowl, smiling.

Kieran was confused why Starbeck was so happy, shaking his head in confusion.

He didn't ask why, not all things should be explained by reasons.

If everything should be reasonable and made sense, nothing in the world would because everything was forced and unreasonable.

Kieran then picked up the magazine that he bought during the afternoon and started reading behind the bar counter.

Water flowed in the kitchen, books flipped at the bar counter.

The day soon turned bright.

The first light pierced the darkness in the sky and brought forth a beautiful day.

Then…

"Aaaaaa! Dead people!"