"What, actual food?" Urushihara muttered, poking at a piece of cooking intestine he wasn't sure he actually wanted with the tip of one chopstick. "I agree."

He knew Maou meant the grill, of course, but it wasn't like they had much to grill except broccoli stalks and bean sprouts.

"Maybe that's why I'm just so weak and delicate and tired. I'm anemic. Need more red meat. Tell Ashiya."