If Chef Mark had been Korean, he would have said, "Ashiba ge ssumnida!"
If he'd been Japanese, he would have said, "Shimata, you baka!"
But he was French, so all he could say was, "Zut!"
"Chef Mark?"
Heracles looked puzzled. He watched as the chef's expression slowly changed.
Following his gaze, he saw that Chef Mark was staring at the two young women Li Bai had brought along. Could he, like Heracles, have fallen under the spell of these two Eastern ladies?
Even now, the "God of Strength" still couldn't figure out how he'd lost his memories back then. All he could do was blame it on the two Eastern women being like enchantresses, with a special power to beguile people, just like the succubi of legend.
In Greek mythology, the God of Strength himself was also the sort of henpecked man who couldn't take his eyes off a beautiful woman. A girl, Omphale, had tricked him into wearing women's clothes and becoming a cross-dressing Big Shot, sending him down a path of no return.
Heracles Enzo Camillo was afraid he'd end up following the legendary God of Strength down that same road. That would be the end of him.
"Mr. Heracles, please wait a moment."
Chef Mark solemnly waved to his employer, took out his phone, and swiped furiously across the screen. At last, the display settled on a page.
His gaze moved back and forth between the screen and Qingyao Demoness's face a few times. He sucked in a deep breath and said, "That's right, it's you! Madam, please allow me, Marc René Lebre, to pay my respects!"
The chef was utterly serious, his tone swelling with impassioned conviction.
"Mark, do you know each other?"
Heracles was utterly baffled. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure