"The warmth deep in the soul... the meaning isn’t clear at all," Chen Ze’s mouth twitched, he was a bit confused by this note.

Chen Ze felt that to understand this phrase, he first needed to understand what a soul actually was, or to put it another way, whether people had souls at all.

Although there was often talk of the soul weighing twenty-one grams, Chen Ze just took it as a legend, until he met Stan.

This Undead monarch was quite formidable indeed, but he truly had a soul. According to Stan, it was common for Necromancers to toy with souls.

So, the soul equals Stan... giving warmth to the depths of the soul...

Chen Ze instantly thought of some red-light districts, or perhaps brothels, but he immediately shook his head, casting all those not-suitable-for-children thoughts aside.

"Tsk, it’s a one-time use item, so I still have to be cautious," Chen Ze yawned, placed the Starry Sky Cake properly, took a photo of it with his phone, and then sent it to his sister.

[I am Great Writer: Sister, the times have changed!]

Chen Ze was happy, but the next second his 4G signal dropped again.

It seemed a customer had arrived. Chen Ze went upstairs, of course taking the Starry Sky Cake with him, and put it in the fridge.

"Honored guest, here is your iced Coke," Betty said with a smile, then placed a cup of smoking cold Coke in front of Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Momonga-san, long time no see," Chen Ze was surprised to see Ainz Ooal Gown, it seemed the other’s mood wasn’t very good.

"Manager, I’ll have a chestnut rice, and a bowl of miso soup," Momonga looked indeed a bit... down?

God knows how Chen Ze could tell this emotion from Momonga’s skeletal face, but Chen Ze could vaguely feel it was the case.

"Sure, unagi kabayaki, would you like a portion?" Chen Ze nodded, not presuming to ask Momonga what had happened, as it wouldn’t be polite.

Momonga nodded his head.

People don’t generally share their unhappiness with others, except with close friends, and Chen Ze’s relationship with Momonga was at most that of a customer and a cook.

Chen Ze entered the kitchen, wiped his knife, and thought it was rare to have another customer today; he wondered if others might come in later.

Chestnut rice was a dish very familiar to Chen Ze, but he also considered making an ice and chestnut rice for Momonga. However, after some thought, he decided against it.

Momonga needed a taste from his memories, not a novel flavor, or at least that’s what Chen Ze believed.

Chen Ze started steaming the chestnuts, then began preparing the miso soup, and the unagi kabayaki needed patient handling.

Smelling the aroma in the air, Momonga’s mood lightened just a little, but only a little.

"Why, why didn’t I anticipate the reason for Shaltear’s betrayal? Why wasn’t I on guard against the World-Class Item?" Momonga was very upset; a flash of light passed over him, and his emotions were suppressed again.

This calmed Momonga down. Compared to when he first learned about the World-Class Item, his mood now didn’t need to be suppressed multiple times.

Momonga tapped on the table, next was to think about how to handle the matter of Shaltear, a treasured legacy from his companion, which Momonga wouldn’t just ignore.

Chen Ze turned the heat down to a simmer; the miso soup was just about ready. Next up was the kabayaki eel.

For Chen Ze, preparing kabayaki eel presented no challenge, as eel rice was basically made using this as a foundation. Nonetheless, he approached the task with great care.

Lafra rested her chin in her hand and yawned, even though she didn’t need sleep.

"How much longer..." Lafra was somewhat bored. She deeply regretted agreeing to Stan’s request to substitute for him at the work of the Dark Council—it was mind-numbingly dull.

"Lord Blood Ancestor, this is an invitation from the Grand Cardinal of the material plane’s Church stationed in the immaterial plane," a Necromancer flew in, looking respectfully at Lafra, but there was a mysterious glint in his eyes.

"Oh, it’s you, Roland, the Mad Witch. What’s this invitation for?" Lafra fondled the ring on her finger, its red gemstone very much suited to her aesthetic.

"Lord Blood Ancestor, His Holiness the Pope from the material plane invites you to an exhibition," Roland explained hastily.

"Hmm, an exhibition?" Lafra picked up the envelope with disdain, opened it, and drew out the invitation.

In Lafra’s opinion, these so-called exhibitions were nothing but the Pope showing off a new breakthrough, followed by a veiled threat to the immaterial plane.

It was always the same. The last exhibition was six hundred years ago when the Pope chanced upon an ancient Goblin’s legacy—several steel airships equipped with Armstrong maneuver acceleration of the Armstrong gun.

Who knew what treasures this old fool had stumbled upon this time.

[Dear Chairman of the Dark Council: You are cordially invited to attend an exhibition co-hosted by the Church of Light and the Mage Association.]

The message was simple with nothing noteworthy, yet Lafra’s brow furrowed.

This handwriting didn’t seem like that of the Church of Light’s scribe; it was exceptionally neat but lacked a certain spirit.

One mustn’t be careless with written words, as not only did the Dark Council possess an evil magic called Feather Curse, but the Church of Light had Holy Judgment.

Of course, they called it "Justice" magic; Lafra sneered at that. In the Dark Council, Holy Judgment was considered an evil magic, and vice versa.

"Tell that Cardinal that I will attend," Lafra picked up the invitation, flames of black fire ignited in her hand, turning the invitation to ashes before tossing them into the void.

Roland nodded respectfully and then left.

"Indeed... has the power of fire magic increased? The scale of improvement isn’t too bad, either," Lafra swung her legs back and forth, a smile playing on her lips as she looked at her ring.

Then Lafra stood up and stretched. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to spend time with her beloved boyfriend tomorrow either.

Then why not go find him right after this? Lafra mused deeply and then suddenly her face blushed red, and she stomped her foot firmly.

"Idiot... I definitely... definitely can’t stay away from him..." Lafra held her face, feeling her body temperature rise, cheeks burning hot.

"Tomorrow I shall see what deserves such pride!"

Lafra planned to see what muscles the Pope was preparing to flex.

If it wasn’t about showing off muscles, Lafra wouldn’t mind turning those things into trash on the spot, the kind that couldn’t be recycled.