Thoughtful red eyes bore into Urushihara a long moment as Maou tried to decipher that breath. Did he break a rib, and it was still healing? Was he going to have to hold his subordinate down to heal him properly? And how long could Maou keep that up before it felt too non-con for comfort?

Thankfully for them both (perhaps mostly Urushihara), the arrival of their meals interrupted, bowls of rice and little saucers of deliciousness accompanying them. Maou grinned at the spread and snatched up his chopsticks.

"Yesss! Thanks for the food," Maou said before intensely placing blobs of intestine on the grill like so many torture victims.