The Reincarnated Lizardman Wants a Hamburger

“Fufufu.”

The girl, who had been frantically devouring the jambalaya with rice grains stuck all over her face, eventually stroked her round, protruding belly with a satisfied smile.

Was she dreaming?

Living alone in the ruins every day, had she finally started having such delusional dreams?

Once known as the Grand Duke of the Demon Realm, but now a demon girl who had even forgotten her own name, she patted her bulging belly.

Yet, the lingering aroma of the jambalaya in her mouth proved that this was no dream but reality.

After all, such a spicy, salty, oily, tangy, and savory dish was a flavor she had never even imagined in her dreams.

The taste of the jambalaya, which surpassed imagination, was itself evidence that this situation was real.

“So, how’s the jambalaya? You don’t look like you need water, but still.”

“Truly satisfying. In all my life, I’ve never tasted such delicious food. I can confidently say that even if I combined all the meals I’ve had in the ruins, they wouldn’t compare to this one. It was truly delicious. Truly…”

Thus, the girl felt a pang of regret.

That this dream-like situation had come to an end.

“Truly… it was like a dream. I’m sad it’s over…”

The greater the happiness, the harder the fall back to reality.

The girl wore a sullen expression as the meal ended.

“Over? It’s not over yet.”

But the demon girl had overlooked one thing.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… we haven’t had dessert yet.”

Sometimes, a meal is followed by dessert.

Clatter.

What Kurt brought was a dish she had never seen before.

No.

“Wh-what is this…? Is this really food?”

Purr.

Purr.

It wobbled and jiggled, shaking the plate and disorienting her vision.

A small cylindrical shape, smooth and glossy, with a soft, wobbly texture that didn’t collapse.

Though she had lost most of her memories from her past life, even she found the appearance of this dish utterly bizarre.

It was unimaginable what ingredients could have been used to create such a thing.

Compared to this, the jambalaya she had just eaten was within the realm of imagination.

“It’s pudding. Specifically, caramel custard pudding.”

“Ca-caramel cus… what?”

The name was as strange as its appearance.

“I thought about using eggs, but then I remembered I had some high-quality agar powder left over from making yokan. So, I decided to save the eggs for dessert and made the jambalaya without eggs, since it doesn’t pair well with fried eggs anyway.”

“Is that so…?”

Kurt, excited by the topic of cooking, began to ramble.

But the girl, understanding less than half of what he said, simply nodded along.

As Kurt explained the recipe for the custard pudding, the girl focused on the pudding in front of her.

“…”

Honestly, its jiggly appearance was cute, but it didn’t look particularly appetizing.

In a situation where everyone was wary of her, Kurt had shown her kindness from start to finish, and she wanted to reciprocate his goodwill…

“Ugh…”

It wasn’t easy.

She had already stuffed herself to the brim with jambalaya.

Physically, there was no more room in her stomach.

Moreover, having just finished a meal that left her in a state of bliss, she didn’t want to ruin the good memory with some strange, unknown dish.

Swoosh.

But…

“Hmm. I see. It looks truly delicious. Then, in consideration of your effort, I shall gratefully partake.”

She couldn’t betray the first person who had shown her kindness.

It might have been nothing more than the imprinting effect, like a newborn bird mistaking the first creature it sees for its parent and placing infinite trust in it.

But for the girl, this was the first connection she had ever made with another person.

Thus, she scooped up a spoonful of the jiggly, shiny, and oddly glittering pudding.

Swoosh.

As the spoon touched it, the pudding, which had initially resisted with a bouncy elasticity, soon gave in and offered its flesh to the spoon.

“Eek…”

The strange sensation at her fingertips made her tremble like a child.

“Ahem. It’s nothing. Just this much.”

But she quickly composed herself and, with determination, brought the pudding to her mouth.

Munch.

Munch.

“…”

Munch munch.

“…?”

Munch munch!!

“…!!”

And soon, the girl, who had been acting so solemnly, began to move her hand swiftly again.

Though it looked incredibly jiggly, and she expected it to be slippery and squishy, it somehow melted away the moment it entered her mouth, as if by magic.

But the surprise of the texture was only secondary.

The most astonishing thing was the intense sweetness, both soft and sharp, a paradoxical combination.

It was truly gourmet.

While the jambalaya she had just eaten was a complex hexagon of flavors—sweet, salty, oily, spicy, savory, and tangy—this pudding was the complete opposite, a sharp, soft spear of pure sweetness.

The soft texture and aroma, seemingly existing solely to enhance the sweetness, and the harmony that followed.

If the jambalaya was a martial dish that squeezed the palate to its limits, the pudding was the opposite, an overwhelmingly sweet yet deceptively soft flavor that made you question if it was really that sweet.

‘Ah, this is the flavor of eggs.’

At the core of the pudding’s sharp sweetness was the egg.

Specifically, the rich, smooth flavor of the egg yolk gently balanced the sweetness of the sugar.

If the egg yolk was the base, then the spices were the makeup that adorned the pudding’s flavor.

The fragrant vanilla lingered in her mouth, and with each breath, she could feel its subtle aroma in her nose.

“…Mmm!?”

Just as she was getting used to the subtle (or so it seemed) flavor of the pudding, she accidentally touched the caramel layer on top.

What she felt was not the subtle sweetness but a strong, smoky sweetness.

It was caramel.

This, too, was intensely sweet but not simply sweet.

The technique of caramelizing sugar to create a strong, artificial flavor.

The caramel, embodying this technique, sharply pierced her dulled palate.

A truly tingling pleasure.

Two spoonfuls of the soft pudding layer with a small spoonful of caramel.

An endless spiral of sweetness.

The soft, sweet flavor and the aroma of vanilla made even the strange, jiggly texture of the pudding feel incredibly beautiful and refined.

No, it wasn’t just an illusion.

The soft sweetness of sugar, mixed with the flavors of vanilla and egg, maximized the taste when paired with the pudding’s soft, melting texture.

Simply heating egg yolks with sugar and vanilla essence would just result in a sweet, vanilla-flavored egg custard.

Pudding is pudding because it is pudding.

Purr.

Purr.

With each movement of the girl’s spoon, the pudding on the plate shook and gradually disappeared.

Though her stomach seemed physically full, strangely, no matter how much pudding she ate, it kept going in without any burden.

Was there really a separate stomach for dessert?

In fact, there is.

The saying that there’s a separate stomach for dessert isn’t just a metaphor; it refers to an actual physiological phenomenon in the human body.

When exposed to high-sugar or high-calorie foods, the brain stimulates the appetite center, causing the stomach to wriggle and create space artificially, even if it’s already full.

It’s like a game of Tetris in the stomach.

Even if the Tetris blocks are stacked up to 10 lines, there’s always a bit of space between them, and the stomach wriggles to shake the blocks down, creating space at the top.

And the “dessert stomach” refers to the physiological phenomenon where, after eating enough salty food to no longer stimulate the appetite center, a sudden exposure to sweetness reactivates the appetite center, creating space in the stomach.

“Haaa…! What is this…? This is the taste of a demon…!”

Munch munch.

And so, the girl’s belly, already swollen like a balloon, continued to inflate to its limit, as if air was being pumped into it, until it was on the verge of bursting.

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