The word burden slammed into Renata's chest. But remembering her father's last message and the promise she had made to herself, Renata lifted her head slightly. She shook her head firmly, staring into Devandra's sharp eyes with the last of her courage.
"Mr. Devan, I'll try!" Renata cried, her voice hoarse but utterly sincere. "I can do this job! Please give me a chance."
Devandra returned her stare. Behind the desperation and fear of the young girl before him, he caught a flash of honesty and sincerity in Renata's eyes.
"Fine," Devandra finally said. "You can all get back to work now. And remember exactly what I said earlier. If not a single dish tomorrow whets my appetite, I'll replace every one of you."
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Bima replied. After bowing respectfully, Bima, Fandi, and Renata slowly withdrew, stepping out of the VIP room.
As soon as the VIP room door shut tight and they turned toward the kitchen corridor, Fandi spun around and pointed at Renata's face in utter irritation.
"Rena! Don't touch or handle any ingredients tomorrow! You're like a jinx on my cooking!"
Renata could only nod helplessly. "Yes, Chef..." She no longer had the strength to argue. In her eyes, everything she did was always considered wrong.
With heavy steps and her body completely drained, Renata headed for the employee locker room. Her steps were unsteady as she turned the key and opened her metal locker. She rested her forehead against the edge of the cold locker door, lamenting her miserable fate.
Suddenly, the temperature inside the deserted locker room plummeted. A concentrated, piercing chill crept back up the nape of her neck. A soft growl seemed to crawl through the darkness in the corner of the room. Renata closed her eyes, preparing to face the ghostly terror as usual. But before the black shadow could touch her, the growl abruptly turned into a shriek, then vanished in an instant.
Startled, Renata slowly opened her eyes and turned toward the wall. The spot was now completely empty. Not a trace of a terrifying aura or evil figure remained.
Outside the locker room, Amara stood tall, her sharp eyes gleaming. Her fingers had just flung the pitch-black ghost across the room, sending it sprawling into the concrete wall.
"I told you, stop harassing the weak!" Amara said firmly.
The fallen black ghost let out a high-pitched laugh, a horrifying sound that echoed coldly through the air. "She has an incredibly strong spirit despite her weak body! Not just any ghost can possess her. You should show her your true form so you can experience the sensation of taking complete control of her body!"
"I'm not as evil as you are, always harassing and hurting weak humans!" Amara shot back, folding her arms arrogantly across her chest.
"Yeah, just wait!" the ghost sneered as it crawled up toward the ceiling. "Just wait until ten years from now. You'll turn evil too! Loneliness and envy of the living will slowly turn you into a demon. Even now, you already feel that fate treated you unfairly because you died young, don't you? You possess them just to experience the pleasures of the world you never got to enjoy!"
Amara stood frozen in place. Both her hands clenched into fists. The ghost's words slammed into her consciousness with brutal force. She didn't want to become an evil ghost. But Amara still didn't know the real reason her spirit remained trapped and wandered through the mortal world.