Self-Summon [Demon Summoning/Evolution litRPG] Chapter 23: [1.23] Heisty Type (Part 1)

Read chapter 23 of Self-Summon [Demon Summoning/Evolution litRPG] by Drim on NovelPedia.

“For the second Order, make me lunch, Imp.” “Ehh, that’s it?” Given the simplicity of Lustre’s first Order, Angelica shouldn’t really be surprised, but she had been expecting something more… demanding. “Yes, I should probably be more specific.” The Summoner reconsidered her words. “Make me something that I would enjoy, without using any ingredients that I wouldn’t like. Cook it well, and don’t make anything that will take too long. Within an hour would be ideal. I don’t care too much beyond that.” Of course, she had no idea what her master liked and didn’t, but Order Obligation would ensure she knew if she attempted to do something wrong. “Umm,” Gelic made her voice sound even more innocent than usual, preparing to make her meager request. “May I have some, too?” The labors of the morning and her sparse breakfast made her a hungry servant. “You want to eat food?” That made the older woman’s eyebrow raise. “Usually Demons just ask for some of my vitality and been fine with that. Which I’ve always found unpleasant, so, sure. Make yourself a plate too.” Huh, Summoners could give Demons vitality? News to the recently reborn oddity. Perhaps that increased Health percentage directly, negating the reduction caused by a Hunger debuff? But she’d rather have a full tummy, regardless. “Do you accept the Order?” “I accept.” [Order accepted without resistance | Current Contract: Complete 2 Orders for Lustre | Current Order: Make lunch for you and your master. | Order Reward: 50 Essence] With the Order set, Gelic bounced her way to the kitchen, leaving her master behind who was assuredly just going to laze about once more. On the way, she got a greater tour of the swanky mansion. Each room was just as dazzling as the last. Just how much money did these people have? Were all Summoners this rich, or at least significantly well-off? All but her? Sadly, she couldn’t actually inspect any room in greater detail, hit with pain if she left the halls and crossed any of their thresholds. The kitchen was just as grand as everything else, leaving the impression that nothing was actually cooked in it, at least not by the tenants of the home. But maybe servants routinely or contracted caterers during special events. Once more, Angelica activated Transfiguration. There was no way she could cook properly in her Demon form, at least not yet without making a huge mess. So the fake human donned a chef uniform, one the head of a fine-dining restaurant would wear. Of course, it came with a matching very tall hat that could fit not just one, but several rats on the top of her head if such a thing was required. So many rats. While Angelica may not be the greatest cook, she’d at least hope she could do better than being puppeteered by a vermin. Actually, that raised a good point, were Demons vermin? Or at least Imps? Some she’d seen in the book looked very vermin-adjacent. Gelic shook that stupid train of thought out of her mind. But before she could continue on with her duty, another dwelling notion needed to be considered. Would she trigger Poison Chef with this? She didn’t know what was going to be made yet, but there were explicit instructions for it to be something cooked, so there was no avoiding the problem. Angelica, herself, didn’t need to worry. No, she was actually quite interested in trying something poisonous now, just to see how it all worked. Would it taste funky? Be even noticeable? Would she be filled with a sense of rejuvenation? Maybe she’d even learn to love the taste if it was providing a benefit now. The matter was her current master. The Demon was under the assumption that her kind could not actively attack their Summoner, at least when they were Bound. Garvin had been pretty afraid when his binding failed, but Lustre held no such fear. It did raise the question of whether or not that was absolute, though, or if it was similar to Order Resistance and there was some sort of “Don’t Attack Your Master Resistance,” probably with a more concise n