Mapo Tofu

"Nothing..." Ryunosuke Uryu kept smiling brightly and waved a hand before continuing, "This is just one of life's little pleasures."

Ryunosuke Uryu's words made Wang Xiaoming like him even more. After thinking for a moment, he fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Bao Xiao..."

"Wrong one!"

Wang Xiaoming snatched the card from Ryunosuke Uryu's hand. Then, under Ryunosuke Uryu's strange gaze, he pulled another card from his coat, glanced at it, and handed it over.

"Wang... Xiao... Ming..."

Ryunosuke Uryu read aloud the awkwardly pronounced name on the business card.

"This is my card. It has my contact information on it. If you ever visit Tokyo, give me a call. I'll show you around."

Wang Xiaoming said this to Ryunosuke Uryu. After chatting casually for a few more minutes, the two said goodbye, and Wang Xiaoming drove to the hotel the newspaper had arranged for him.

Interesting! Interesting!! This is just too interesting!!!

Ryunosuke Uryu lowered his head to look at Wang Xiaoming's business card, hiding his faintly twitching body and his wildly excited gaze.

He'd originally planned to leave this town, which he'd grown tired of playing in, that very day. But then he'd run into someone so "interesting." He wondered what kind of cool~~ expression that person would make if he found out that Ryunosuke was the killer he'd been talking about.

Just thinking about it was intoxicating!

Ryunosuke Uryu, a murderer who lived only to kill, an "artist" [lunatic] who sought art in death. He had already committed several atrocious crimes in Fuyuki, and though he'd planned to leave, he'd run into a reporter investigating him.

Sometimes, that was just how things went.

Fate was a marvelous thing.

Ryunosuke Uryu casually tossed Wang Xiaoming's business card into the trash. "I don't need your contact information."

He looked up at the sun, which was about to set.

"Tonight, I'll come looking for you."

Ryunosuke Uryu decided that after tonight's [hunt], he would leave the city.

He hoped the [Demon] would like tonight's [offering].

Chapter 3: Mapo Tofu

"I'm dead on my feet!"

Following the address his supervisor had given him, Wang Xiaoming arrived at the inn the newspaper had arranged for him. After parking and walking inside, he took in the place's full appearance and barely stopped himself from saying, "MMP."

Damn, was that balding supervisor having an affair with the innkeeper? Wang Xiaoming looked at the innkeeper, a still-charming woman admiring herself in the mirror, and felt exhausted. Their front desk was practically buried in dust.

Luckily, the rooms weren't as bad as the outside. The fairly tidy interior put an end to Wang Xiaoming's thoughts of going out and paying for another inn himself.

After all, when you were traveling, saving money was what mattered.

Wang Xiaoming dropped his bags and sprawled across the bed. The soft bedding and the fatigue from driving all day made him want to sleep for hours. But what little professional integrity he had left still got him to drag himself up.

"Phew. I'd better go interview some of the locals first."

After getting out of bed and washing his face with cold water, Wang Xiaoming suddenly thought of the optimistic young man he'd met that day. He wondered what he was doing now.

Ryunosuke Uryu... That name seemed familiar somehow. And Fuyuki City, too... Probably just memories from his previous life resurfacing to mess with him again.

Wang Xiaoming felt helpless about his own memory. He'd forgotten almost everything, but whenever he came across certain familiar names, a strange sense of déjà vu would suddenly surface. If he tried to think any further, though, the memories would cut off.

That feeling of "I'll just rub against the entrance, but I won't go in" was enough to drive him up the wall.

Forget it. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

After tidying himself up a little, Wang Xiaoming left his room. He went downstairs, greeted the innkeeper, and then left the inn.

"Should I eat first, or go do interviews?"

He glanced at the late hour and cheerfully decided to take a look around first.

Miyama Town. Shopping District

Following the directions in the travel guide at the inn, Wang Xiaoming arrived here and sighed at the sight of the unusually quiet street.

The guide had said this was the liveliest street in Fuyuki at night, but looking at it now...

The rumors about the killer must have left everyone in the city on edge.

"Achoo!"

A cold wind swept past, making Wang Xiaoming shiver. It was already late autumn, after all.

Looking at the deserted street, Wang Xiaoming's desire to go shopping faded by half. His top priority was finding a restaurant in this bleak autumn wind.

But where were the restaurants? Wang Xiaoming looked around, but didn't see a single one that was open. Even the shops had closed early. A shopping district without any customers really was a sorry sight.

Wait!

Wang Xiaoming was just about to leave the shopping district when he suddenly caught a scent carried by the autumn wind.

That aroma...

Grrr~~~

The rumbling of his stomach urged Wang Xiaoming forward.

The aroma led Wang Xiaoming to the entrance of a shop. If he hadn't seen the neon sign glowing to show it was open, he might have thought this place had closed too.

[Red House Feast Years Hall · Taishan]

The half-familiar, half-strange Chinese-style name left Wang Xiaoming scratching his head. The tightly shut door and windows made it impossible to see inside. But what made him even more curious was where that aroma was coming from.

"Welcome!"

A short man behind the counter greeted Wang Xiaoming warmly as he stepped inside.

The moment Wang Xiaoming entered, his nostrils filled with an indescribable aroma, and he instinctively swallowed.

Grrr~~~

The aroma had stirred more than just his tongue—it had stirred his stomach, too.

"Hahaha! Have a seat, sir."

The short proprietor laughed heartily at Wang Xiaoming's awkwardness. His friendly greeting didn't make Wang Xiaoming feel embarrassed.

"May I ask what your signature dish is?"

After finding a seat, Wang Xiaoming asked the proprietor.

"If you're asking about our signature dish, it's definitely mapo tofu!" The proprietor thumped his chest confidently. "The taste is second to none!"

"Then I'll have an order of mapo tofu," Wang Xiaoming said readily.

"Coming right up!"

"B-boss, this is your mapo tofu?"

Wang Xiaoming stared at the dish the proprietor had just set in front of him. The tender white tofu was perfectly coated in chili oil, making his mouth water just looking at it.

"That's right!" The proprietor sounded full of pride in his signature dish.

Wang Xiaoming knew that mapo tofu was a Sichuan dish, so of course spiciness was an essential part of it.

But this plate in front of him... Wasn't this going too far?

Red, red, nothing but red!

Wang Xiaoming's entire field of vision was filled with red. There was absolutely no way they hadn't put an enormous amount of chili in this mapo tofu!

Wang Xiaoming could almost see a reaper wearing a red cape appear above the dish, whispering temptingly:

(Eat up. It's not spicy at all~)

As if!

"Boss..." Wang Xiaoming turned to the proprietor with a pained expression.

"What is it?"

Seeing the proprietor's eager gaze, Wang Xiaoming swallowed the question that had been on the tip of his tongue and asked something else instead:

"Do you have rice?"

"We do."

After saying that, the proprietor went into the kitchen, leaving Wang Xiaoming alone with tears in his eyes.

(Was I just going to ask if you charge extra for the chili?)

Less than a minute later, the proprietor came back from the kitchen carrying a bowl of rice.

"Let's eat!"

After saying it in a tragic voice, Wang Xiaoming resigned himself to scooping up a spoonful of mapo tofu and shoving it into his mouth.

(What the hell! Why is this stuff so spicy?!)

Just one bite had Wang Xiaoming sweating buckets. The tongue-searing burn gave him a taste sensation he could hardly put into words. He forced the tofu down despite the heat, and instantly felt a raging fire plunge straight into his stomach!

But damn, it felt good!

That was the second thing this mapo tofu made Wang Xiaoming feel, after the spiciness.

He shoveled down a huge mouthful of rice, but it wasn't enough. He dumped the entire bowl into the dish. Even the proprietor was stunned by Wang Xiaoming's bold move.

After a whirlwind of eating, there was hardly anything left on the plate.

"Damn, that hit the spot!"

After putting down his spoon, Wang Xiaoming suddenly exclaimed in perfectly standard Mandarin. He'd gotten used to the mild food in Japan, but deep down, he was still a Northeastern Chinese man!

"You're from China?" The proprietor's eyes lit up when he heard the fluent Mandarin, and he asked in Mandarin as well.

"Of course."

Even though I was reborn in Japan, I'd always be Chinese through and through.

That brought the two of them much closer. After a friendly chat, Wang Xiaoming learned that the proprietor's name was Ba.

Mr. Ba said he was from Sichuan and loved to travel, but even wanderers eventually found a place to call home. After finding his home here, he'd settled down and opened this restaurant. In his spare time, he liked experimenting with and improving Sichuan cuisine. The mapo tofu he'd just served was the result of researching chilies from all over the world.

Thinking about that plate of mapo tofu made Wang Xiaoming swallow again. Mr. Ba noticed and laughed, asking if he wanted another serving.

Wang Xiaoming hurriedly waved him off. If he ate another plate, he probably wouldn't be able to leave the bathroom tomorrow.

"Boss, I'll have a plate of mapo tofu."

Just then, a man walked in from outside and spoke.

"Please, go ahead. I'll take my leave."

Seeing that Mr. Ba was about to get busy, Wang Xiaoming offered his farewells.

"Of course, Father Kotomine. Please wait a moment." Mr. Ba first greeted the customer who had just come in, then turned back to Wang Xiaoming. "Well, I won't keep you. This meal's on me."

"Sure. I'll come back when I get the chance."

Wang Xiaoming didn't stand on ceremony and nodded.

"Great. You're welcome anytime." After saying this, Mr. Ba turned and went into the kitchen, leaving Wang Xiaoming alone with the customer who had just arrived, the one they'd called Father Kotomine.

Wang Xiaoming gave the priest a discreet look and was surprised to find that he seemed much younger than the priests he'd met before.

He wondered what denomination he belonged to.

Wang Xiaoming put the little question out of his mind, nodded to Father Kotomine, and pushed open the door to leave the restaurant.

After that plate of [mapo tofu], Wang Xiaoming just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

There was more during the day

For now, two updates a day. No promises of a burst of extra chapters.