Jack eyed Alisha warily as her curt offer to pay for his meal lingered in the air. Her sudden generosity felt out of character, especially considering her usual aloof demeanor. Still, he shrugged it off. She had already agreed to his plan, and there was no point in questioning her motives—at least not yet.
Their walk to the restaurant was brisk, the dusty streets of the demon village bustling with activity. Blackened wooden structures, adorned with eerie carvings, loomed on either side. The air was thick with a pungent mix of sulfur and roasted meat, making Jack's stomach growl involuntarily.
They approached the entrance of a shabby establishment with a weathered sign swinging above it, written in a language Jack couldn't read. As they stepped inside, the dimly lit room smelled of charred spices and something faintly metallic.
