My Cell Prison

Chapter 810: Chapter 811: Banquet Chapter 810: Chapter 811: Banquet Dumps did not advocate directly spying on the Lord’s true state.

Let alone whether Han Dong could resist the mental pressure and various images that could evoke primal fear.

Such spying was in itself a kind of impolite behavior.

Fortunately, Han Dong was secretly spying through a hidden Little Demon Eye. The Lord seemed not to notice, or perhaps noticed but did not care too much.

As Dumps quietly gave a massage,

Han Dong, gradually calming down under the mask, revealed a satisfied smile and transmitted his thoughts:

“Taking a look won’t kill anyone… besides, I indeed saw some ‘critical’ things.”

“Oh, how critical?”

“Critical enough to deduce the ‘essence’; let’s talk when we return to the bedroom.”

The two under the mask ceased to communicate.

The candlelight flickered,

The Lord floated slowly down from the second floor of the banquet hall and landed precisely in the master seat.

The hands that carried the sun and moon remained unchanged,

The crossed hands slowly placed on either side of the utensils, grasping a knife and fork,

A ethereal voice emerged from beneath the sacred robe. It seemed not to come from the head but the entire body.

“Please enjoy the food I’ve prepared quietly for everyone, including the four humans who came from afar. I’ve also prepared local Italian cuisine for you that should suit your taste.”

The pig-headed chef presented the appetizers to the distinguished guests.

‘Perugian-style sashimi’

Delicate fish slices garnished with parsley and doused in aromatic gravy, the tantalizing aroma was already making the demons who were born in small tribes or careless about food somewhat restless.

Each ‘diner’ had received a special reminder before the meal—absolutely not to show any sign of ‘discomfort’ in front of the Lord.

However, what the demons enjoyed did not necessarily appeal to Han Dong and the others.

Not to mention whether it was delicious or not, there were problems with the ingredients in this appetizer.

The parsley, grown outside the city, was now wriggling on the surface of the fish slices like earthworms.

The sashimi itself was not entirely dead; stimulated by the parsley, it instantly curled up, wrapping the parsley within.

As for the thick, fragrant gravy.

Han Dong guessed it was made from mouse meat and added with special spices.

It was also possible that the gravy was inherently stinky, merely perceived differently due to mental invasion occurring deep within the palace.

Even if it was stinky, it smelled incredibly fragrant.

‘Pollution’, ‘Disgust’, ‘Parasitic Risk’

Han Dong naturally couldn’t let such filthy meat enter the pure mouths of the knights of Vino.

Not hurrying to eat, he first observed how other guests were eating and whether they needed to remove their masks.

Most demons still wore masks while eating.

Slurp, slurp—through the openings on the surface of the mask or the gaps at the lower end of the mask, ‘tentacles’ grew out,

wrapped around the knife and fork, and slowly sent the food into their mouths methodically.

Since that was the case, Han Dong could do the same.

Regarding external dining, Han Dong had set a unique motto in advance—’Whether it’s fishy or stinky, in my mouth, it’s all meat.’

Inside the mask worn by Vino, there was a layer of tentacle mucous membrane laid out by Han Dong.

The moment it enveloped the sashimi, it triggered a void transmission, sending the dish directly into Han Dong’s mouth.

“Hmm~ quite tasty, this lively fish slice with parsley, very chewy. Paired with the rich gravy, it almost makes one feel like bursting out of their clothes.”

Following that, one after another, the main courses arrived.

Han Dong transformed into a glutton, devouring the meat voraciously.

Of course, the so-called big mouth was all hidden under the mask… He still appeared very refined on the outside.

“Black Vortex Trunk” paired with “Faceless Skull”

Just keep shouting, “Give it to Ollie,” and everything goes down the stomach.

This kind of food from outside the city was, to Han Dong, nothing but high-nutrient material, and it didn’t matter whether it was smelly or not.

But… eating is eating.

During the meal, the highly perceptive Han Dong faintly sensed a presence watching from “all directions.” It seemed as if something was scrutinizing the guests through the walls of the banquet hall.

But due to etiquette, Han Dong didn’t feel it appropriate to look around.

Just as Han Dong was about to sneak a peak while pretending to wipe his mouth after quickly finishing a main course meant for two.

The first incident occurred at the banquet table.

One of the “New Born-Demons,” having never tasted such fine food, finally “lost composure” under the relentless bombardment of course after course.

Throwing away their cutlery, lifting their mask.

They revealed a head completely evolved into a mouth structure, gorging on the main course like a trough.

Squeak squeak squeak~

“Caged Bird” emitted bursts of cries,

The Lord’s arm that bore “The Moon,” pointed towards this disgraced guest.

A ‘cross’ motion was made in the air with the palm.

An ink-colored [×] pattern formed directly on the surface of this guest… forcibly amputating, twisting, and compressing.

In the end, even the cutlery used by this person was erased by the color of ink.

“What is this power?”

Han Dong’s attention was instantly drawn, attempting to analyze the capability through what he had just observed… but no results were forthcoming.

Dumps remained silent, and Knight Charlie also exhibited a rather troubled expression.

Soon, the banquet ended.

“Esteemed guests who have traveled from afar, you must be weary from your journeys; there is no rush to visit the Art Gallery for an exploration and deep discussion… Please spend the remaining time of the day resting well in your rooms, or feel free to relax freely around the City.

Tomorrow, I will arrange for you to visit the Art Gallery in batches.”

Thus, as the Lord floated away, the guests each returned to their rooms.

…

Outside the banquet hall.

A group of painters of varied postures, recognized by the Lord, were painting. They surrounded the banquet hall entirely, peering through the stone walls to meticulously paint each guest.

This was the true reason Han Dong felt watched.

Realistic portraits of Dumps, Charlie, and Vino appeared on the canvases.

But the painters responsible for portraying Han Dong encountered a problem.

“How is the painting going?”

“Lord, this person cannot be drawn…”

These painters were not just chosen demons; their bodies also harbored ‘artistic cells’ from the Lord, making it impossible for them to be unable to paint.

The joint effort from several painters portrayed Han Dong as a grotesquely positioned monster.

However, Han Dong’s head could not be painted no matter what; despite all painters exerting their greatest effort, they could barely manage to draw a circle and add some shadows.

It looked like a “marinated egg” grafted onto an extremely bizarre patchwork body, incredibly discordant and utterly lacking in aesthetic sense.

Seeing this scene.

The Lord seemed somewhat pleased, “Pay special attention… then, produce the ‘models’ of the other three as quickly as possible.”

“Yes.”