The Man Who Remained — His Second Life Began with a Humble Bow of Apology. - Chapter 90: An Unprecedented VIP Guest Arrives (Part Two).

An Unprecedented VIP Guest Arrives (Part Two).

Tucked away in the direction of the Byakko Gate stood a rundown eatery named Gettan.

Its exterior was drab, and the interior no more inviting. A glance inside revealed an empty atmosphere, with only a few occupied seats dotting the sparsely filled space.

If one were desperate to find a silver lining, they might call it quiet and peaceful for a restaurant—but truth be told, it just left you uneasy. The kind of place that made you wonder if it would still be open the next time you walked by.

Unsurprisingly, no new customers ever wandered in. The only patrons were the regulars—drawn in more by habit, proximity, and the low prices than anything else.

And yet… despite all odds, two unfamiliar guests stepped inside.

One was a half-demon man with an air of carefree foolishness, sharp in appearance but with something whimsical and aloof in his demeanor. The other—a striking woman with rare golden hair—wore an extravagant, eye-catching kimono that made her look almost out of place.

The pair drew the attention of everyone—customers, the lone server, and even the cook hiding in the back. A strange hush fell over the diner, unlike its usual dull quiet. This silence was charged… curious.

“Are you open?”

The man’s voice snapped the server back to reality. She answered out of reflex, raising her voice as she always did.

“Ah! Yeah! Come on in. Table for two?”

Her words were loud and flat—more like a shout than a greeting, and entirely devoid of warmth.

The man smiled politely and nodded. “Yeah. Where should we sit?”

“Anywhere you like. Water’s self-serve. If you’re ordering, just holler at me—”

“I’ll take the cheapest set meal and your cheapest sake. Ellie, what about you?”

“Just tea, please. I’m not particularly hungry.”

After replying, the two turned their attention to the server.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll bring it out when it’s ready, so just take a seat.”

With that, the girl dashed into the back, kicking up dust as she ran.

There was no need to hurry—the place was almost empty, and one server was more than enough for the handful of customers. But her frantic manner alone spoke volumes about the establishment’s poor standards.

Even so, the two demonfolk, clearly first-timers, didn’t seem to care. They casually chose a tatami mat table and sat down across from one another.

A few moments later, the server came back and clattered the food down in front of them with barely restrained annoyance.

“Here ya go!”

Her tone was brusque, borderline hostile.
It was clear from her expression: This is all you get for ordering the cheapest thing on the menu.

Still smiling, the male guest spoke up cheerfully.

“Hey, miss. Mind explaining what the meal is?”

“Huh? …Oh, wait. You two aren’t from around here, are you?”

“That’s right. Though I can tell it’s rice, miso soup, and pickles. I’d just like to know the details.”

“There’s not much to say. The pickles are takuan—pickled daikon. The miso soup’s got wakame and clams. The rice is polished white. Not bad for thirty mon, right?”

“Mon?”

“You folks call it ‘Brood’ or something, right? We know that much. But it sounds weird on our tongues. As long as we understand each other, money’s money.”

The man nodded as if satisfied with her explanation. Clumsily picking up his chopsticks, he popped a slice of takuan into his mouth, then took a big bite of rice.

Despite being an outsider, his manner of eating looked surprisingly natural.

But then his expression shifted. He frowned, more perplexed than displeased, and muttered:

“…Huh. This is good.”

“What, is that a problem? If it’s tasty, then what’s the issue?”

“Ah—well, no, it’s just…”

He glanced around the dingy restaurant, searching for the right words.

Seeing this, the server chuckled knowingly.
“Let me guess—you didn’t expect decent food in a dump like this?”

The man offered an awkward smile and scratched the back of his head, confirming her guess without saying it aloud.

“So what exactly disappointed you?”

She asked out of curiosity more than concern. It wasn’t like customers came in often, and the regulars were too used to her gruff service to care about her attitude. In fact, most were now quietly eavesdropping on this rare conversation with genuine interest.

“Let’s see… I guess I was kinda hoping for something more… nostalgic. Back in the day, I used to eat terrible food in shady joints like this. Ellie here, she was a low-ranking soldier once—says her old mess halls had the same vibe. I guess that’s what drew us in.”

“So you came here looking to relive the taste of bad memories?”

“Exactly. …Which is kind of rude now that I say it. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. It should taste good. It’s not just the customers who eat here—I eat here too. Wouldn’t want to suffer through it every day, would I?”

“True. You’ve got a point.”

“Well, I guess we couldn’t help you relive your trauma. But if you think it’s good, then eat up while it’s still warm.”

“Thanks, miss. Sorry to keep rambling.”

He smiled, and she offered a faint, hollow grin.

“It’s fine. I’ve got nothing better to do. Not like I’m passionate about this job or anything.”

Her words carried weight, laced with something unspoken.

The man, so talkative until now, fell silent—suddenly focused only on his meal.

But… what can you do?
The server sighed quietly to herself.
Some things… just can’t be helped.

“Hey, once you two finish eating—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the man had already polished off his plate and was sipping the cheap sake from a chipped cup.

“Whoo! That’s strong! Good, but really strong. Smells intense too. Is this stuff extra potent or what?”

“It’s the kind of drink meant for heavy drinkers. If you want something smoother, pay more next time—ah, but I guess that’s not an option for you, huh?”

She gave a crooked smile.

Their situation wasn’t hard to read. Coming all the way to a dying diner and ordering the cheapest items on the menu? It was clear money was tight. Asking them not to worry about it would be the real cruelty.

“So, miss,” the man said, raising an eyebrow, “you were trying to say something earlier. Was it… maybe an invitation? After your shift?”

He grinned mischievously. The server smirked back.

“Sure. If you’re paying, I’ll consider it.”

“…Wait, really? Should I take that seriously?”

As the man entertained the thought, the server let out a sigh and crossed her arms.

“You’ve got a beautiful woman sitting right next to you. What more could you want?”

At that, the woman—Ellie—finally spoke, having sipped her tea in silence until now.

“Oh, we’re not like that. Feel free to pursue whoever you wish—though I assume you’re joking.”

“Wait, Ellie, are you saying that seriously or—”

“A man who ditches his duties and flees wouldn’t be my lord, now would he? So yes. It’s a joke. Right?”

Chastened, the man slumped in his seat, visibly deflated.

“Yes ma’am. Just a joke…”

The server chuckled at the sight.

“See? You two do have that kind of vibe.”

Neither of them denied it. Ellie gave a wry smile, while the man simply raised both hands in surrender.

“Anyway, miss, you were going to tell us something before—”

Before the man could finish, a crash rang through the building—far too loud and violent for a quiet little diner like this.

The moment of shared laughter turned bitter in the server’s chest.

She never thought of herself as a good person. In fact, she saw herself as a small-time villain, the kind of person content so long as she was happy.

But now she felt the faint sting of guilt—for dragging these two outsiders into something they had no part in.

The noise had come from the front.

The sliding door had been broken inward, now lying on the floor in pieces.

Outside stood the culprits, loud and obnoxious, cackling.

“Oops. Forgot this was a sliding door,” one of them sneered. “You’d think I’d remember, after bustin’ in ten times already.”

Without a shred of remorse, the man—large, thuggish, wielding a club—marched into the diner.

Others followed him, equally burly and brutish, crowding in with threatening auras, glaring at the remaining guests.

One by one, the other customers shrank back and left in silence, avoiding eye contact as they slipped past the gang with pale, frightened faces.

“…Sorry. You two should go. Now.”

The server’s voice was low, tense.

“Some kind of trouble?” the man asked, far too casually.

Her irritation flared, but she still answered truthfully.

“Just goons sent to shut us down. They won’t do anything too bad. They’re just here to scare away what few customers we get.”

“Can’t the gatekeepers help?”

“They are the gatekeepers. Or close enough. City wants us out for redevelopment, and these guys got cozy with the right people upstairs.”

“I see…”

“I know we’re at fault for not closing when we should’ve. But still… being told to just up and leave overnight doesn’t sit right. Even if I understand it—it’s hard to let go. You know?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“So now it’s just me and the coward in the kitchen, hanging on as long as we can. But maybe… maybe it’s finally time.”

“Shame. I won’t get to eat this meal again.”

“You really liked that cheap food?”

“Food served with this kind of laid-back warmth is rare. That’s worth something.”

“Huh. That so?”

“To me, yeah.”

“Well, either way—you two need to get out of here. Now.”

Her voice was sharp, urgent.

The goons weren’t here to cause a scene—they didn’t have to. The diner was barely holding on as it was. Occasional threats and rough behavior were more than enough to drive it into the ground.

This was less a targeted assault and more a warning: Give up already.

To these bullies, it was little more than a way to kill time.

The server understood that. And more than anything, she didn’t want to see these odd, kind strangers get hurt because of her.

They had said her food was good.

That meant something.

If nothing else, she wanted their memory of Gettan to be a good one. That was her last sliver of pride.

And yet—the man didn’t move. Still smiling, still seated.

“Well, my friend’s still enjoying her tea,” he said.

Sure enough, the woman—Ellie—continued sipping slowly, gracefully, as if the world around her didn’t exist.

The server felt genuine anger bubble up.

“You two don’t get it! There’s no one else left! Especially someone as pretty as you—you might leave with more than just a bad memory!”

“Too late for that,” the man said with a chuckle.

The server froze, realization dawning.

The thugs were already watching. Their sneers had turned to hungry stares.

“…There’s still time. They won’t make a move while you’re still just customers. Worst that’ll happen is some groping—still better than death or worse. So go. Now.”

Still, the two remained calm, unfazed.

Ellie sipped her tea. The man smiled dumbly.

They acted like nothing was wrong—even as the gang approached, step by heavy step.

“Hey, missy. Get us some drinks. Booze, booze… and more booze. We ain’t eatin’ here. We’ll grab real food somewhere else.”

Another added with a snicker,

“Put it on our tab, yeah? Same as last time. And the time before. And the time before that!”

Laughter erupted among the thugs.

The server said nothing.

She had no comeback.

They had certainly broken in numerous times before—but until now, it had only amounted to petty harassment and running up tabs. Nothing truly serious had happened.

Still, that wasn’t a guarantee for the future.

For now, things were relatively calm—mainly because the gang’s interests happened to align with those of the authorities. But the server knew full well that these were dangerous thugs, prone to violence and destruction whenever it suited them. So, with fear tightening her throat, she swallowed her words.

“Huh. You do tabs here? Then I’ll put mine on one too,” one man said casually, already seated.

The server was taken aback. So that’s why he ordered the cheapest food and drink—it wasn’t just poverty. The man was destitute.

Suppressing that thought, the server pressed on his back and spoke.

“I don’t care if it’s a tab or a handout—just take that pretty girl of yours and get out of here. You’re starting to cause real trouble.”

The server pleaded, pushing against him again.

But the man didn’t move—not even an inch. No matter how hard she pushed, he remained planted like a rock.

And while she struggled, the thugs turned their leering eyes to the woman accompanying him—a woman of staggering beauty.

Of course they did.

She stood out in every way—dressed in an elegant, expensive kimono entirely out of place in a common eatery like this. Any man would be drawn to her, and it was painfully obvious what these men were thinking.

They had held back in the past, satisfied with harassment—but their true nature was far worse. They were locusts in human form, consuming others without a second thought.

“Ah, poor thing. Walking into a dump like this… well, you’ve only yourself to blame. Entertain us, and maybe I’ll let you leave by the end of the day.”

From deep within the group, a large man with a twisted smile and eyes that gleamed with filth reached toward the woman, attempting to claim her for himself.

“Seriously, you’ve got no self-control. Do you even remember how many you’ve broken already?”

Whether meant as a threat or a jest, another man’s words sent a shiver through the server.

She hesitated.

If she turned a blind eye, that beautiful customer would surely suffer a terrible fate.

But if she stepped in, the wrath of these men would fall on her as well.

She wasn’t as stunning as the woman, but she liked to think her looks were average—decent enough to be a target. And so, fear paralyzed her.

After all, she wasn’t a hero.

She had always lived for herself, putting her safety first. That was her way of life—small, selfish, but practical.

And yet… she couldn’t ignore it.

These two unusual customers… they might be the last the place ever saw.

The idea that their final impression of this eatery might be tied to trauma—that thought was unbearable.

And once that thought took root, self-preservation wasn’t enough to justify inaction anymore.

She tried to move—but her body wouldn’t obey.

Not out of fear. She had always acted decisively, as befit someone from Suzaku Street. Fear never stopped her before.

No—she couldn’t move because the male customer had quietly taken her hand.

He shook his head gently, still smiling, and winked.

While she froze in confusion, the thug’s hand finally reached the woman—and aimed straight for her chest.

But that filthy hand… simply vanished.

Not metaphorically. Literally.

It disappeared cleanly, as if sliced away at the elbow, leaving no trace—no blood, no wound—nothing.

Stunned into silence, the gang stared. The server stood frozen. Only the woman, serene and composed, continued sipping her tea.

“You bastard! What the hell did you do!?”

One of the gang leaders, now filled with murderous rage, stepped forward to defend the dismembered man.

The man who had lost his arm simply stood trembling, blank with shock.

Finally, the woman placed her cup on the table and looked up—but not at the thugs. Her eyes went to the man seated across from her.

“Sorry, Cross. I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s fine. I was about ready anyway—and I didn’t really want to see you get groped, Ellie.”

With a light smile, Cross gently patted the server’s head and stood.

“Put it on our tab, yeah? I promise we’ll be back to eat—and to settle up. So if you could, keep the shop open at least until tonight. We’ve got a few things to take care of.”

“…Take care of things? Who even are you two—?”

“You think you’ll get away with this!?” the gang leader shouted, no longer bluffing. The air around him was thick with bloodlust, the aura of killers long accustomed to murder.

Even the server, who knew their kind well, trembled before the menace of the ten monsters surrounding her.

But Cross and Ellie stood calm, unbothered—as if nothing had changed.

“You deaf or just stupid!? You know who we are!? We’re with the Byakko Gate! You think you’ll walk away from this!?”

Snarling, the leader pressed a short blade to Cross’s throat.

But Cross didn’t flinch.

Instead, with two fingers, he gently grasped the blade—then snapped it in half.

“What…!?”

The gang gasped. But Cross and Ellie’s expressions remained cold and disinterested.

“…Honestly? Finding what we were looking for this easily is great and all, but… God, this is boring. Right, Ellie?”

“You’d say that, Cross. Well, I’ll take it from here.”

Ellie stepped forward.

“So, the question was—who are we, and do we think we’ll get away with this? Allow me to answer in my master’s place.”

She placed a hand on her chest and continued with a radiant smile.

“He is Cross, Lord of the Village and Warden of the Four Sacred Gates, and his servant, Ellie. Feel free to grovel if you wish. As for whether we think we’ll get away with this—let me ask in return.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Who are you, to dare use the name of the Byakko Gate for fraudulent land seizures—and think you’ll get away with it?”

“…What the hell are you talking about—?!”

The rest of his words were lost in the thunderclap of a shockwave.

One thug was launched bodily out through the still-intact door, which shattered under the impact.

“Sorry ’bout the door. This should cover repairs.”

Cross tossed a heavy leather pouch onto the table.

“Wait, weren’t you letting me handle this?” Ellie asked.

“I was. But when you said that… I realized something. These guys are just grunts. Taking them down won’t end this.”

“True. There’s someone behind them—probably some wannabe gatekeeper or low-tier gang boss.”

“Ugh. What a pain. We’ve still got three more places to clean out today…”

He turned to the server and gave a cheerful wave.

“See you tonight, pretty lady. If you feel like throwing in a little extra service next time, I wouldn’t mind.”

Cross, still smiling, began tossing the gang members outside one by one. They struggled, of course—but it was utterly futile.

Ellie sighed.

“…I was actually looking forward to playing the heroine for once. Bit disappointing.”

“I don’t really get what you were expecting, to be honest.”

“I dunno… you know that classic fantasy? Where a guy saves a shop in crisis by pure chance? Real romantic stuff.”

“…Yeah, this setup didn’t exactly deliver.”

The two walked out. A scuffle followed outside—brief, sharp—and then silence returned.

“…What just happened?”

Muttering to herself, the server picked up the leather pouch.

It was far heavier than she’d imagined.

***

Later, after delivering the thugs to the Byakko Gate guards…

“Say, Cross-san. Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm? What’s up?”

“Why did you put the meal on a tab? You had more than enough to pay.”

“Well… I thought it’d be cool to come back later, order something crazy expensive, and then say, ‘Keep the change. That should cover the tab.’ Y’know?”

“…I sort of get it. But… you did leave a bunch of money on the table afterward. Doesn’t that just make you a weird customer who had the money but didn’t pay—only to leave it behind later?”

“…Crap. That is uncool.”

“It is.”

Cross slumped in defeat.

“…Can I ask one more thing?”

“…Go ahead. Though I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Was it really okay to leave behind all the money you worked so hard to save—just to look cool?”

“Ellie-san… Can I have a little extra allowance?”

“Denied.”

With shoulders slumped, Cross began trudging along.

Ellie watched him go, smiling softly.

“…Honestly. What am I going to do with you?”