The moment Spade’s five-meter mechanical frame stepped into the Happy Hotel, the noise in the lobby was abruptly severed as if by an invisible hand.
Total silence fell.
The air grew so still you could hear the dust settling.
Every demon instinctively held their breath, none daring to speak first.
In the Pride Ring, who didn’t know the terror of this mechanical clown?
It wasn’t the kind of posturing terror heard in rumors; it was the absolute power to crush an Overlord with a flick of his wrist.
His long metal fingers hung loosely at his sides, their tips glinting with a cold, hard light.
The permanent smile on his mask looked increasingly eerie in the silent hotel.
With every step he took, the floorboards trembled slightly, and his mechanical joints emitted faint, precise clicks.
The pressure he radiated was like a rising tide, making it hard for any demon present to breathe.
Alastor stood nearby, his trademark gentle smile showing a trace of stiffness for the first time.
He quietly retreated half a step, the hands he usually kept casually in his pockets tightening.
[Internal monologue + fear] *Tsk…
why did this ancestor actually decide to stay?
During our last encounter, I didn’t even touch the man himself before being chased all over the place by a few toy puppets he tossed out.
I nearly had my radio station trashed in the embarrassment.
All of Hell was secretly laughing at me—the Great Alastor, flee-bitten and losing face because of some toys…
I never want to experience that again.* His smile remained fixed, but his eyes were locked onto Spade, his yellowed teeth clenched in deep wariness.
Vaggie sprang from the sofa, her grey-purple ears standing straight up.
She spread her arms to shield Charlie, her eyes as alert as a beast ready for war.
“Spade…
what do you want?
This is Charlie’s hotel.
We don’t welcome demons looking for trouble.” Her voice was low and warning, yet she didn’t dare speak too loudly—she knew perfectly well she was no match for this clown demon.
Angel Dust also dropped his nonchalant act.
His pink-and-white fur bristled, he clicked off his phone and tossed it onto the sofa, and his tails stopped swaying, tucking tightly behind him.
“Crazy, absolutely crazy.
Why did this big shot come in…
I don’t want to be turned into a doll in a can,” he muttered, his usual flirtatiousness vanished.
Husk stood by the bar with his arms crossed, brow furrowed.
His normally explosive temper was suppressed instantly; he remained silent.
In the entire hotel, there was only one exception—Niffty.
She blinked her large, round eye at the towering Spade.
Instead of being afraid, she enthusiastically waved her rag and hopped up and down, shouting, “Welcome!
There’s a lot of dust here!
I’ll clean it all up!” After shouting, she immediately dove under a table to continue her frantic scrubbing, as if the terrifying clown demon was nothing more than a walking pile of dust.
Spade’s gaze slowly swept across the room, the corners of his mouth beneath the mask curling up slightly.
[Internal monologue] *Tsk, look at them all, so tense.
It’s not like I eat demons.
Only Alastor holds a grudge; he’s been terrified since I gave him a thrashing last time.
How boring.* Finally, his eyes landed on Charlie.
He instantly withdrew all his overwhelming pressure, his tone becoming gentle and elegant, even carrying a hint of a relaxed smile.
“Princess, there’s no need to be so nervous.
I’ve only come to see if this…
very unique hotel of yours needs a little help.” Charlie looked up at the tall but suddenly friendly Spade.
Her tension bled away, and her bright eyes lit up again.
“Mr.
Spade…
you’re—you’re not here to cause trouble?” she asked softly, her small horns twitching innocently.
“Cause trouble?” Spade chuckled, a mechanical finger tapping his smiling mask.
“I have no interest in destroying someone else’s dreams.
On the contrary, I quite admire your courage in seeking redemption.” He glanced around the dilapidated lobby—the peeling walls, the shaking furniture, the flickering dim lights.
[Internal monologue] *This place is a wreck…
worse than the scrap warehouse at my Toy Factory.
How has Charlie kept this going?
Naive as she is, she’s certainly got grit.* Outwardly, he remained suave.
“This place has potential.
It just lacks…
proper management.” Charlie’s eyes sparkled.
“Really?
You think we can succeed too?!” “Of course.” Spade bowed slightly, maintaining a perfect level of courtesy for the Princess.
“And, I can stay and help you.” A few days later.
Everything progressed much faster than expected.
Charlie’s Happy Hotel was officially renamed the Hazbin Hotel.
The sign was brand new, the exterior walls were refurbished, and the lobby had become much cleaner and more organized.
But the most shocking development was that Spade had become the Hazbin Hotel’s exclusive chef.
If news of this got out, every demon in the Pride Ring would have their jaw hit the floor.
Who would have imagined that the legendary clown demon who ran a massive Toy Factory and possessed unfathomable power would lower himself to cook in a redemption hotel?
But only Spade knew the truth.
[Internal monologue] *I’ve lived in Hell for tens of thousands of years, staring at a factory and making toys.
I was bored to tears.
Now I have a place to kill time and make some good food.
It’s perfect.
Since I have nothing better to do, I might as well master the culinary arts.
When you spend enough time practicing, you naturally become top-tier.* Charlie handed over all kitchen affairs to Spade, and he was happy to accept.
Every day, he chopped, cooked, and prepared ingredients unique to Hell.
His movements were skilled and elegant, his mechanical fingers handling kitchen utensils with pinpoint precision, never once feeling clumsy despite their metallic construction.
The aroma of delicious food wafted through the hotel nearly every day.
In just a few short days, the atmosphere of the hotel changed completely.
While Alastor still harbored a lingering fear of Spade and would walk the long way around to avoid him, everyone else’s favorability toward Spade skyrocketed.
Vaggie gradually lowered her guard, realizing that aside from his intimidating aura, the clown demon never looked for trouble and kept the kitchen in perfect order.
His food was so good it was addictive.
Angel was even more dedicated, crouching by the kitchen door every day just to be the first to taste Spade’s desserts, calling him “Boss Spade” with a sweetness that surpassed his stage persona.
Husk was no longer tense, occasionally chatting with Spade at the bar about cocktails and food pairings.
Niffty followed Spade around constantly, chirping away while she cleaned, treating him like the most reliable person in the building.
The most extreme change was in Charlie.
Her trust and reliance on Spade reached the point where she listened to almost everything he said.
Whether it was the hotel’s decor, arrangements, plans, or even the daily menu, Charlie would immediately run to ask for Spade’s opinion, her eyes full of admiration and faith.
“Mr.
Spade, what do you think of this slogan?” “Mr.
Spade, should we take in new sinners tomorrow?” “Mr.
Spade, this cake you made is way too delicious!” Spade listened to the constant chirping in his ear and looked at the blonde princess whose eyes were filled with trust.
[Internal monologue] *Oh boy, this version of Charlie is way too dependent on me.
But…
it’s actually not bad.
Naive as she is, she knows what’s what.
She’s not stupid, and she’s much easier on the eyes than those idiots who do nothing but put on airs.* He paused, and three other figures involuntarily flashed through his mind.
[Internal monologue continues] *Speaking of which, there’s Carmilla.
Always acting like the stern Overlord.
Only her two daughters are fun—Odette is as composed as a little adult, and Clara is way too hyper.
Those two girls tease me every day.
And Carmilla herself is incredibly devious; she won’t say it, but I bet she’s laughing at me in her head.* Meanwhile.
In Carmilla’s territory, everything was solemn and orderly, exuding a sense of rigorous discipline.
Odette stood in a warehouse, dressed in sharp attire, head down as she meticulously inventoried rows of goods.
Her gaze was focused and steady, checking every single figure to ensure not a single error occurred.
Suddenly, she let out a small sneeze.
“Achoo!” Odette frowned, rubbed her nose, and went back to work.
Not far away, Clara stood on a set of stairs, directing demons to move supplies.
She was cheerful and efficient, her voice clear and powerful as she kept everything running smoothly.
Just as she finished an order, she also let out a sudden sneeze.
“Achoo!” Clara rubbed her nose and looked over at Odette in the distance.
The two sisters shared a look and tilted their heads simultaneously.
“Strange.
Why the sudden sneeze?” Clara scratched her cheek.
“It feels like…
someone is talking about us behind our backs,” Odette said flatly.
Deep within the territory’s main office.
Carmilla sat in her wide chair, her fingers lightly tapping the desk.
Her expression was calm and majestic, radiating the unique aura of an Overlord.
Suddenly, she paused for a moment and took a soft breath, as if sensing something.
She didn’t speak, but a very faint, subtle smile slowly touched her lips, a glimmer of realization in her eyes.
[Needn’t even guess] *It’s definitely that man, Spade, secretly complaining about me and my daughters again.* She didn’t call him out on it; she simply pulled back her smile and returned to her usual stern Overlord persona.
Some things were better left understood in silence.
Back at the Hazbin Hotel.
Spade pushed a plate of freshly baked Hell-berry cake toward Charlie, watching the girl’s eyes light up with joy.
[Internal monologue] *Yeah, staying at the hotel is definitely more comfortable.
After tens of thousands of years of boredom, I’ve finally found something interesting to do.* Alastor peeked from behind a pillar toward the kitchen, then silently shrank back.
[Quiet internal murmuring] *Terrifying clown demon…
can’t mess with him, really can’t mess with him.
I’ll just stick to being the manager…*