Betrayed, I Knocked Demon Lord's Door - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

After carefully backing up a safe distance, Arwen shot a sharp glare at the loudmouthed idiot beside her and quickly turned to Leon. "I'm really sorry, Leon. This dumbass just can't keep his mouth shut...
"If it helps, feel free to kick him. Just don't kill him—he's still the best cook on campus. Worst case, we patch him up with Germaine."
Well, she did try to calm things down. If Leon stayed mad afterward, that wouldn't be her problem.
Andrew's mouth twitched. 'Wow, just like that? Tossed me aside like an old shoe?'
Leon remained stone-faced, staring coldly at the man in front of him. Andrew exhaled deeply, straightened up, and said solemnly, "Leon... I apologize. My words were inappropriate."
"Leon is not my boytoy," Arwen said through clenched teeth, catching herself before blurting out something worse. "He's Caitlyn's... close and inseparable friend."
Leon snorted, arms folded, still clearly annoyed. 'Even if I were a boytoy, I'd be Caitlyn's. What business is it of Arwen's?'
This clueless chef clearly needed his eyes checked.
"He's... that guy?" Andrew's eyes widened before he cleared his throat and gave a more formal nod. "Apologies again, honored Leon."
"Caitlyn's the one who's my... friend," Leon corrected stiffly, face still cold.
Andrew blinked, unsure what to say. Arwen kicked him in the shin.
"Ahem... what I meant was, Leon and Caitlyn's relationship is clearly destined to last forever. So sweet. Eternal bliss and all that," Andrew said cautiously, eyes darting nervously toward Arwen for backup.
She just folded her arms and refused to look at him.
Leon's scowl finally eased a bit. "Don't make stuff up. We're not like that... yet."
"Right, right... but probably will be soon," Andrew muttered, recalling the campus gossip.
Leon's expression softened further, and Arwen quietly exhaled. She'd genuinely been afraid she was about to be covered in blood.
"So Leon, as ridiculous as this guy is, he really is the best chef on campus," Arwen said, gesturing toward Andrew. "If you want to learn how to cook, he's your guy."
"Cooking, huh..." Andrew leaned back slightly, looking Leon up and down. "Didn't expect someone at your level to want to learn something like this. Why not just hire a personal chef? I mean, I can cook just about anything from Human Alliance cuisine to Demonic specialties to obscure dishes from tiny border nations."
"If it's not made with my own hands, it's meaningless," Leon replied coolly.
"Ah..." Andrew paused, his eyes dimming briefly. Then a small smile lifted his lips. "I get it."
He looked at Leon with a new understanding. "Alright, I understand."
"I don't have much time. Can you help me reach a decent level in two weeks? Just simple home-style dishes."
"That depends on how hard you're willing to work."
"I'm prepared."
"In that case..."
Arwen narrowed her eyes and warned, "Then it's all yours. I better not hear he ends up diced like your veggies."
Andrew smiled easily. "I'll put my heart and soul into teaching Professor Morrow's chosen one. It's an honor to guide someone so well-known—and so powerful."
"Enough with the flattery," Leon cut in. "Let's just get to it."
"Got it. Let's head to the kitchen."
Back at home, Caitlyn was sprawled on the couch upside-down, head low and feet kicked up over the armrest, her long white legs overlapping each other casually.
She squinted at the dumb idol drama on TV. The show was noisy, but somehow the whole living room felt strangely quiet.
Since Leon had moved in, it had been a while since she'd lounged around like this. It was peaceful, sure, but...
She sighed and grabbed a chip, crunching it without much interest.
The show wasn't as entertaining as it used to be. The chips were bland. She used to love these.
With a soft grumble, she tossed the bag onto the table, but moments later, she quietly rolled the opening closed. No sense letting it go stale—it'd be worse later.
'Leon can finish it when he gets back. He's the perfect leftover-disposal machine.'
She chuckled silently to herself... then froze.
Her smile vanished. She sat up cross-legged on the couch with a stiff expression.
She'd just thought of him again.
The TV continued flickering, casting shadows across her face as she hugged her knees in the corner of the couch, eyes unfocused.
"So boring..." she muttered.
She sighed again, stealing a glance at the clock. Barely two hours had passed.
'Is he coming back for lunch...? No, no, no. Why am I thinking about him again?'
She shook her head and puffed out her cheeks, glaring at the screen.
'They'd only been living together for a while. It's just... strange not having him around.'
Yes, that was it—just unfamiliar.
Suddenly, her brows knitted and she curled forward, clutching her stomach.
"Ow..."
A dull ache pulsed through her lower belly. Sweat beaded on her pale forehead, her lips turning pale from how tightly she pressed them together.
The room felt colder, the lack of lighting making the space eerily dim, save for the flickering light of the television.
Once the pain dulled, she slowly shuffled back to her room, grabbed some clothes, and started getting dressed in silence.
'Shouldn't have played stubborn with him yesterday... Maybe I caught a cold.'
She regretted it as she dressed, frowning to herself.
Then the pain hit again. Her knees buckled and she crouched, hugging her abdomen.
'Should've covered up more at night...'
"Felt totally fine last month..." she mumbled pitifully. And just like that, Leon's dumb face flashed into her mind.
She sniffled, a flush of frustration and... a hint of grievance bubbling up.
'Damn it. Of all days to run off and do whatever...'
'I took care of him when he was sick. I cuddled him, touched his hair, even helped change his bandages. And now when I feel awful, that dummy's not even home.'
Caitlyn was not happy.
'That's all it is. It's just unfair, that's why I keep thinking of him.'
Outside, the skies remained overcast well into noon. The heavy, low-hanging clouds left the whole city feeling colorless and bleak.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen of No. 3 Canteen...
"Leon, what do you think is the most important thing in cooking?" Andrew asked solemnly.
The two men stood over their "creation," both wearing the same deeply disturbed expression.