The man who had spoken to Genevieve earlier rushed over as well. His eyes were wide open as he stared at how Armand ate the pasta. “You’re insane, dude!
I was the state champion of the spicy food competition, and I can’t even stomach a single bite of this. But you’re already on the second bite…” Genevieve had purposely lured Armand into the shop with the intention of making things difficult for him. However, the moment she heard what the man said, her body straightened up.
Armand wasn’t a picky eater, but he didn’t have a freakishly high tolerance for spicy food, either. The other challenger had gotten first place in a spicy food competition, yet he didn’t even dare to take another bite.
She couldn’t figure out how Armand was doing it. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, and his neck was becoming red. It was obvious that he was trying his best.
Genevieve couldn’t quite explain the feeling in her heart. She reached out to snatch his fork away, but he gripped it tightly and refused to let her do so. He turned his head away and let out a cough. “I’m almost done. It’d be a shame to give up now.” Upon hearing that, she pulled out her phone as fast as she could and typed: Your voice has already become hoarse.
Stop eating! If you faint, I won’t be able to carry you back. “It’s just a plate of pasta,” Armand persisted. Despite the hoarseness of his voice, his tone was as bland as always.
“If I really can’t take any more, then I’ll give up.” He stared at the remaining pasta and gulped, then had another forkful. Since the day the pasta shop opened, there had been over a thousand people who had tried to challenge the Devil’s Pasta.
Even so, all of them couldn’t go any further than a bite or two. Right then, however, there was a challenger who still remained totally expressionless even after taking multiple bites of the pasta. Not only the staff, but the onlookers outside the shop were getting excited.
They completely surrounded Genevieve and Armand. Soon, Armand finished the entire plate of Devil’s Pasta. The look on his face was still as icy as ever.
He took two pieces of tissue paper to wipe his mouth, then turned to the dumbstruck staff beside him and asked, “I don’t have to finish the sauce, do I?” “No,” the staff mumbled in response. “Get me the prize, then,” Armand said. While speaking, he suddenly turned to the side and let out two coughs.
Genevieve hurriedly opened a bottle of water and passed it to him. The moment he took it, he tipped his head back and swallowed a few mouthfuls. Genevieve noticed that his forehead was completely covered in sweat. Even the back of his shirt was soaked.
“Here you go, young lady. This is your prize.” The staff took the cat plushy down and passed it to Genevieve. “Nobody has ever succeeded in the Devil’s Pasta challenge since the day we opened our shop.
Your boyfriend is the first! He’s amazing!” Genevieve held the plushy in her arms and looked at Armand’s drenched shirt. Her eyes flickered, and she couldn’t put her feelings into words.
Armand finished the bottle of water. With the shoebox in his hand, he walked out of the pasta shop with Genevieve. At that moment, it was already past nine at night, so it was rather cold outside the shop.
On their way out, she accidentally bumped her head into the glass door, which caused her hair tie to become loose. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and down her back. Armand picked up her hair tie and dusted it off. He pulled her to the side of the shop, gave her the shoebox and the candied fruit, and told her to turn around.
Genevieve did as he said. Once she had her back facing him, she could feel his fingers brush past her ears as he picked up her thick and heavy hair. He proceeded to tie her hair up into a secure ponytail using the hair tie. After doing so, he even tugged on it to make sure it wouldn’t get loose again.
He seemed to be very proud of himself. When he wanted to take the shoebox back from her, she looked up at him and typed out something in her notepad to show him. Genevieve: You don’t have to show me this much care, Armand. You have your own work to do.
You’ve already done a lot to compensate me for this injury, so I don’t have any complaints. Of course, it’d be best if we could get a divorce. He read through what she had typed two times and frowned as if he had suddenly come to an understanding.
“Do you think that I came all the way to Springwyn looking for you and brought you shopping because I wanted to compensate you for the fact that the person Marilyn hired nearly got you killed?
Is that why you’ve been throwing a tantrum?” Genevieve typed a single “You” on her phone but quickly erased it. Instead, she wrote: Is that not the case?
