Chapter 120

“Yes. Thank you for your divine mercy.”

I muttered whatever he’d want to hear and waited for him to try the food first.

He smirked faintly.

“You really did it. Like a puppy waiting for a treat. You want it that badly?”

Damn right, you cheeky bastard. If you’re going to mock me, at least feed me first.

To me, he was less like a god and more like an arrogant human who’d gotten his hands on divine power.

A very human god, in the worst sense of the word, asked,

“Normally, wouldn’t your pride be hurt enough to storm out? You were once a proud little noble, weren’t you?”

It was as if he was saying ‘Mwahaha! How does it feel to crumble in the face of hunger? Pathetic, isn’t it? Utterly humiliating! Delicious!’, but if you reframed it, wasn’t this a five-star Michelin full-course meal served just to see my pride get wounded?

People in high places always got off on crushing others, didn’t they? That rush of superiority, that little god complex.

But when survival is on the line, who gives a damn about pride? It’s basically: Getting a billion won versus getting insulted and eating gourmet food. Shut up and choose the latter/

It means I’m clicking my tongue wishing I had more than ten toes to savor this properly.

And besides, he was the one wasting all this time and food, not me.

Thinking of it that way, this wasn’t humiliation, but was a great deal.

If I pretended to feel shamed and humiliated, he’d probably come back and keep doing this, right?

All I had to do was make a despairing expression and gorge myself.

“Oooh… To think that I, once a noble of such high esteem, would crumble before mere food… Oh, the misery… the humiliation… Oh no, I can hardly bear it.”

I gave my best performance of misery while mentally bookmarking all the desserts I wanted to try.

El, pouring wine into his glass, looked at me with a feigned look of regret.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to make my little puppy cry. I was only worried you’d refuse because of your pride. If this fancy food hurts your delicate heart, I’ll have it taken away, so don’t cry.”

“……”

Are you kidding me?

As I gave him a look like a raccoon who just watched its cotton candy melt away, the corners of his mouth trembled like he was barely holding back a laugh.

Then he wiped his face clean of any amusement and narrowed his violet eyes sharply.

“Don’t try to outsmart me, little whelp who hasn’t even lived a hundred years.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. He saw right through me.

Grrrrrk—

And then, as if on cue, my tactless stomach let out a monstrous growl.

The thunderous protest from my gut made El’s eyes widen for a moment before returning to normal.

“I thought you said you didn’t want it.”

He leaned back languidly against the sofa, curling one side of his lips into a smirk.

“But your body is more honest.”

Why say something like that now, and with that damn sultry look?

“Let’s stop pretending food doesn’t matter to me. I’ve forgotten what being full feels like.”

I stared him down, fully serious.

El didn’t seem particularly interested in explaining his reasons for treating me to this feast as his so-called special believer.

Not that I asked either. He already caught on to my one and only goal here:to get food into my mouth.

A familiar wave of shame surged up. Not the refined kind, but that raw, primal kind, like I’d lost to my own survival instincts and gluttony.

Then he spoke again, in a voice soft like he was soothing a child.

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed. I know how vulnerable humans are to instinct and desire. This is survival we’re talking about, not death.”

He picked up a golden-browned steak with his fork and held it up to my mouth.

“Here, say ‘ah.’ Don’t worry, no poison.”

Maybe it was the hunger, but in that moment, he looked like some divine beauty of an angel.

My brain, starved of logic, dove headfirst into confirmation bias: surely a god wouldn’t lie or try to harm me directly, right?

There’s no way he’d dress up as a prison warden just to feed me poison and watch me drop.

He must have a proposal or something in mind.

In the end, after enduring the torture, my lips opened by their own will.

“Ah.”

“That’s right, good girl.”

He slipped the steak into my mouth, his smile laced with quiet menace.

Mmm. Suspiciously good.

Gulp—

The moment I swallowed, my insides twisted. My vision spun.

As I collapsed forward, a firm hand caught my chin. His violet eyes narrowed to slits.

“I’m the kind of person who always returns the favor.”

His lazy voice blurred as my sight blackened.

Then his voice, tinged with laughter, etched itself into my fading consciousness.

“This is the price of your gluttony.”

…He really did poison it.

This divine son of a b***h.

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