Chapter 159: Master Chef Satania

Fortunately, everyone had long since grown accustomed to Satania’s ridiculous antics. Her ability to derail even the calmest situation had become such a defining trait that most students didn’t even bother reacting anymore. After a few curious glances and half-suppressed giggles, everyone simply shrugged, turned away, and went back to their own cooking stations. The clatter of knives, sizzling of pans, and bubbling of soups soon filled the room again.

“What’s with that reaction?” Satania muttered in visible disappointment. Her crimson eyes dimmed as she glanced around the classroom. “I went through all that trouble to get this magnificent uniform… and no one even gasps in awe?! Where’s the respect? The admiration? The worship?!”

“Satania!”

Before she could spiral further into her delusions of grandeur, Vigne appeared out of nowhere, grabbed her by the sleeve, and dragged her to the corner of the room like an exasperated mother dealing with a naughty child. “Why are you dressed like this?!” she demanded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Heh heh heh,” Satania announced proudly, planting her fists on her hips, her white chef’s uniform gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Because this—this magnificent outfit—is the proof of a top-class chef!” She struck a pose as if posing for a magazine cover.

Apparently, the true test of culinary mastery wasn’t about cooking skill—it was about fashion now. What kind of insane criteria was that supposed to be?

“Look, look!” Satania said, reaching behind her like a magician revealing a grand trick. “I even brought my own special ingredient!” She pulled out a large plastic bag with a flourish. “I caught this fish myself yesterday! It’s as fresh as it gets!”

Inside was a monstrous fish unlike anything found in local markets—its enormous head and gleaming fangs radiated dark energy, and its eyes seemed to glare with otherworldly malice.

“W-what in the world is that?!” Vigne exclaimed, instinctively stepping back and raising a hand as if the thing might lunge at her. “Where’s the mackerel we agreed on?!”

“Oh, that?” Satania said casually. “I figured ordinary ingredients couldn’t possibly convey the greatness of my culinary skills, so I ventured to the Demon Realm Lake last night and caught this!”

Of course she did. The smug grin on her face all but screamed, Go on, say it—say I’m amazing!

Gabriel covered her mouth, laughing softly. “Not bad, not bad.”

Satania blushed with pride. “Heh heh, I know, I know.”

“Not bad, my foot!” Vigne snapped, rubbing her temples. “That wasn’t a compliment! And do you even know if that thing is safe to eat?!”

“There’s no time,” Vigne sighed, glancing around at the other groups already halfway through their dishes. “Let’s just get started before we fall too far behind.”

She turned toward Gabriel. “Gabi-chan, where are the tofu and seaweed you were supposed to bring?”

Gabriel pointed lazily to a convenience store bag near her feet. “Over there.”

Vigne opened it—and froze. “These are potatoes and onions. Where’s the tofu?”

“Ah, that.” Gabriel tilted her head, eyes wandering. “Well, yesterday Miss Shizuka mentioned that Indian people love curry, so I thought maybe I’d try making some…”

“Stop looking away when you talk!” Vigne shouted. “You forgot, didn’t you?! You stayed up all night gaming again!”

Gabriel gave a resigned shrug. “Yeah, you got me. Please forgive me.”

“At least act sorry! Maybe bow or something!” Vigne scolded, glaring.

After taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned to Rikka. “Rikka, please tell me you brought your stuff.”

“Mhm,” Rikka nodded, producing a carefully packed box filled with neatly arranged ginger, wasabi, and lemon slices—obviously prepared by her meticulous sister, Touka.

Vigne exhaled heavily. “Alright, not perfect, but we’ll make do.” She picked up a knife, her expression darkening. “Guess we’ll improvise. I’ll call it… Miso Stew of Chaos and Vegetable Miso Soup.”

“That name sounds really suspiciously casual,” Gabriel muttered.

“And whose fault do you think that is?!” Vigne snapped, teleporting beside her like an avenging spirit, knife gleaming as she smiled eerily.

Gabriel froze, forcing a nervous laugh. “V-Vigne, please, the knife—put the knife down…”

Meanwhile, Satania had already rolled up her sleeves, fire in her eyes. “The chef’s blood within me is boiling! It’s time to unleash my ultimate culinary skill! Rikka, assist me!”

Rikka quietly nodded, her ahoge bobbing as she produced a large bottle of cola. “Ready.”

Vigne appeared behind them, knife glinting again as she smiled darkly. “You two will do nothing. Understand?”

Kouya watched from the sidelines, rubbing his chin. ‘This group’s doomed. At this rate, they’ll poison half the class.’

…

“Let’s start by handling this abomination,” Vigne said grimly, setting the demonic fish onto the cutting board. Its eyes glowed faintly, as if mocking her hesitation.

“How about,” Gabriel said slyly, “we name it ‘Satania’?”

“Why would you name it after me?!” Satania barked.

“Because it looks just like you,” Gabriel said sweetly.

“Unacceptable! Retract that immediately!”

Vigne, meanwhile, was trembling, knife shaking in her hands. Her courage faltered as the monstrous creature twitched slightly. “I can’t do it,” she admitted. “I can’t bring myself to hurt Satania.”

“I told you not to call it that!” Satania yelled, stomping forward. “Fine! Since I caught it, I’ll finish it off myself!”

She raised the knife high, flames of determination burning in her crimson eyes. “To die by the hand of the Great Demon Satania is an honor! Prepare yourself, foolish beast!”

She swung down hard.

SLAP!

The fish’s tail whipped up like lightning, smacking Satania across the face with a wet crack that echoed across the room.

Even in its dying moments, the fish roared in defiance: Even if I perish… I will not go quietly! It flopped violently once, sending droplets of water splattering over Satania’s pristine chef’s uniform.

“Waaaah!” she yelped, stumbling backward. Rikka reached out and caught her before she fell.

Kouya groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘At this rate, we won’t even have ingredients left to cook.’

…

After several chaotic minutes—and more near-disasters than he could count—the group finally managed to produce something vaguely resembling food: a black, bubbling pot of unidentifiable stew that radiated dark energy. Even the air around it seemed to hum ominously.

If one had to describe it, it would be “the culinary manifestation of despair.”

“It’s done,” Vigne murmured, staring blankly into the pot. “Technically.”

She sighed deeply. “We should feel proud, but why does it feel like we’ve committed a crime against cooking itself?”

“Because we probably have,” Kouya muttered from the side.

Gabriel leaned closer, grimacing. “Hey, are we sure this stuff won’t melt the bowls?”

“Let’s just taste it,” Vigne said finally, sounding defeated.

Each girl took a cautious sip.

The result was immediate.

Their faces twisted in synchronized agony.

Gabriel nearly choked. “Next time, we’re following the damn recipe!”

“And whose fault do you think this is?” Vigne hissed, smiling darkly.

Only Satania looked completely unfazed. “Eh? It’s good! Really good!” she said proudly, licking her spoon.

Kouya blinked. ‘She’s immune to taste… That explains a lot.’

“This is… impressive, Satanyan,” Rikka said earnestly.

“Heh heh!” Satania puffed out her chest, her tail practically wagging. “Naturally! For I am Satania, the Great Demon Lord!”

“Um… can you eat my portion too?” Rikka asked quietly. “I’m… already full.”

Satania clenched her fist heroically. “Leave it to me!”

Wait—Rikka, when did you become this sly?! Have you been spending too much time around Raphiel or something?!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep