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Not that long since he started working for them, Nagisa stares across the room at Servant. He carries a plate of cakes, and smiles. Nagisa never fails to be creeped out by his facial expression.
“Oh, you’re back!” Monaca says.
“Cakes, cakes, cakes!” Maseru chants.
“I… don’t like… cakes… not that anyone … cares,” Jataro mumbles.
“They better be totally adorbs,” Kotoko says.
Servant chuckles, holding out the plate. Nagisa doesn’t look, but the squeals of horror tell him all he needs to know.
“You useless idiot!” Kotoko yells. “These are hideous!”
“I did try my best,” Servant says. “However, I am not very good at cooking.”
“No shit,” Maseru says.
Jataro giggles. “Maseru said a bad word.”
“These are disgusting. As your punishment, you have to eat them yourself.”
“Fair enough,” Servant says.
And Servant sits on the floor, and, under Monaca’s glare, starts eating it.
Cakes don’t crunch normally, do they?
How can Servant eat that without vomiting?
This Demon really is a mystery.
Finally, Nagisa’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he approaches Servant.
“I insist you tell me your name,” he says, folding his arms.
“No can do, ‘m afraid,” Servant says.
Nagisa sighs. “You’re so annoying. Well, then, tell me why you always wear that mitten.”
“To cover my hand.”
Monaca slaps him. “Don’t be annoying! Nagisa’s right; we don’t know anything about you.”
Servant sighs. “Very well.”
And he pulls the mitten off.
Nagisa stares.
Kotoko yells, “Oh my god, that’s a severed hand.”
Indeed, the hand on Servant’s left arm clearly isn’t his own, grafted onto his forearm with jagged scars, the hand dainty like a woman’s.
Nagisa stumbles back, wanting to vomit. “Put the mitten back on.”
If possible, he actually understands Servant less than ever. What is wrong with this Demon?