Tate no Yuusha no Nariagari (LN) - Volume 18 - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Seya’s Restaurant 

Based on Tsugumi’s testimony and other rumors, we had set out toward the town with the chef who made the most delicious meals possible. 
“Is this the place?” I asked. 
“It looks like it,” Raphtalia replied. We had a mirror with us so that we could easily go back and forth after arriving here. We also had a mirror for movement placed back in the castle, so a fairly large party came along. At that point there was me, Raphtalia, Raph-chan, Filo, Kizuna, Glass, L’Arc, Therese, and Tsugumi. Tsugumi was the one who had brought all this up in the first place, after all. 
Itsuki, Rishia, and Ethnobalt had stayed behind to work on deciphering the old texts. Chris had turned into an ofuda and was sleeping. S’yne seemed to have no interest in joining us and said she’d stay in the castle and eat the food I left behind. Sadeena was searching for Shildina, who had got herself lost. The younger sister’s complete lack of a sense of direction was an ongoing concern. She had last been seen in the castle town, according to Sadeena. 
The permits we had needed to reach this town, anyway, had been provided under the authority of L’Arc and Kizuna, which had been a big help. Culturally speaking, we were looking at buildings with a medieval feel. That said, something felt off about the place. It seemed quiet and yet pretty developed. It had an atmosphere that was perhaps a bit difficult for a Japanese person to understand—urban but shabby, maybe. The streets were paved with stone, but those stones were cracked in many places, suggesting it had been developed, but someone had failed to finish the process. This was more than just a failure to keep things clean. It was like the external appearance was there, but there was nothing inside. 
What the place looked like didn’t matter, anyway. We just needed to confirm the rumors of this wonder chef. We’d heard more gossip in the adjacent neighborhood, where there was an imitation restaurant. We’d talked to some of the people who had eaten there, and they said it wasn’t as good as the original, but better than nothing. 
Maybe I was overthinking things, but something looked off about the expressions of the people here too. Their eyes looked a bit vacant and yet they seemed so healthy. It was unsettling. They were working in the fields, caring for livestock, and transporting carefully prepared monster meat and vegetables, and they were all heading in the same direction. 
All of a sudden, a muddy little kid fell over in front of me. 
“What are you doing?! You won’t get blessed with deliciousness like that! Work as though your life depends on it!” someone said, scolding the kid—most likely their parent. 
“I don’t want it! I don’t want deliciousness!” the kid said. 
“Hah! More for me then!” the parent replied. The parent, with their hardened gaze, and the child with their dull and lifeless one . . . I couldn’t take my eyes off this bizarre scene. 
“Hey, hey! Welcome to our town! You must be here to taste the cooking of the greatest chef in the world, Master Seya!” A soldier at a town checkpoint greeted us in a seemingly over-excited fashion, and so I looked away from the kid. 
“Yeah, that’s right. We’ve heard the rumors,” L’Arc said, nodding as he spoke for the party. 
“I bet you have!” the guard enthused. 
“So where do we need to go?” L’Arc asked. 
“You can see what the neighborhood looks like, right?” the man replied. L’Arc nodded again. The man proceeded to point at a structure that looked like the tallest building in town. There was something odd about it, though, like it was floating. There were monsters flying around it, but I presumed they were subservient to the owner of the building. 
“Master Seya’s cooking is all laid out in the square in front of that building all the way up inside! The people of the town work hard every day, fed by Master Seya’s cooking. That’s how our town continues to grow!” the guard continued. 
“Okay, understood,” L’Arc said, a little awkwardly. “We’ll go and check it out.” Ending the conversation there, we all headed together into the neighborhood. I fell in alongside L’Arc. 
“That wasn’t like you,” I muttered to him. L’Arc would normally chat happily with anyone and everyone he met. Yet with the guard, he had clearly been holding back. 
“I’m not good at talking to someone who isn’t even really seeing the person he’s talking to like that,” L’Arc admitted. He was a king, after all. He spotted these things. He was right, too. The guard hadn’t seemed like he was actually seeing anything around him. It had been like he was looking into another world completely. 
“I know what you mean. But this place does look pretty prosperous,” I commented, turning an eye to the monsters being carried in. One was a fairly powerful-looking medium-sized dragon, and another was a bull-like monster. The people of the town were looking on with happiness in their eyes. I’d never seen anything like this in Melromarc. Even the farmers had a strange aura around them, like each of them was a powerful adventurer, warrior, or magic user—a feeling of raw power. Kizuna was looking at them too, and then she furrowed her brow. 
“What’s up?” I asked. 
“I mean . . . everyone here looks so strong, don’t they?” she said. 
“Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing,” I replied. I still wasn’t really sure how to phrase it. They felt similar to a cultivated village, perhaps. But it would be out of place to call them anything close to “full of life.” The reason I couldn’t put my finger on it was why they felt so strange. 
“Almost feeding time!” one of them said. Others proceeded to chime in. 
“Yes . . . the time we’ve all been waiting for.” 
“The moment we live for, basically!” 
“Even if I only get to eat one mouthful . . . that is the fuel that will keep me alive!” 
“I’ll never eat anything but his cooking ever again!” 
“I think the schweiz is the best! It has to be!” 
“No! The stietz!” 
“Hey! No fighting! We’ve been warned about fighting!” 
“That’s right! What if fighting means no food?” With crazy looks in their eyes, they discussed the meal that lay ahead. Everyone seemed like they were looking forward to eating this food more than anything else at all. That said . . . I hadn’t seen any normal-looking restaurants anywhere in the town. Even if the place this wonder chef opened had sucked up all the possible diners, I expected to see a few other places trying to hold on. There didn’t even seem to be anywhere selling ingredients, which was very strange. Maybe people could buy those in the fields, if they wanted them . . . but it was odd to not even have a market selling things. Meanwhile, there were plenty of general stores, weapon stores, and ofuda stores on display. 
It was definitely weird. 
“It looks pretty prosperous around here,” I commented. 
“Everyone here eats at the place this super chef opened—and works for it too. That’s why there’s nowhere else selling food. The big place even sells portable rations,” someone in the crowd explained to me. If that was the culture here, then I just had to accept it, and I couldn’t judge things by Japanese standards . . . but this was a pretty strange place. 
In any case, that big building definitely looked like the one being run by the chef we were here to see. We finally arrived in front of it to find what looked like a beer garden. There were all sorts of stalls placed out front with the people of the town all sitting around eating—or, more accurately, stuffing their faces in what looked like a stupor. That was the most striking impression. They were really packing it away. 
“Wow, they all look like people do when they’re eating your food, Master!” Filo enthused. 
“Filo! Shhh! You’ll upset Mr. Naofumi!” Raphtalia said. It had been a while since I’d heard Filo’s malicious side. She’d been a lot calmer since meeting Melty, but she could be a straight shooter when she wanted to. I glanced over at Kizuna and the others and got some stiff smiles in return. 
“But they don’t look like they’re enjoying it as much as when they eat your food,” Filo added. 
“What’s the difference?” I queried. 
“I mean . . . they just don’t have that joy around them. More like they are worried about someone taking the food from them. Eating with everyone together makes food so much more delicious . . . What a waste!” Filo bemoaned. She was right too. Even when I was forcing folks to chow down, they didn’t have the rage in their eyes that these guys had. Filo was a keen observer, I’d give her that. 
“This is what we’re here for. Let’s try some,” L’Arc said. 
“Good idea,” I replied. We lined up to get into the strangely divided beer garden. 
“Dear diners, is this your first time eating with us?” a hostess asked us. She was a grass person, a species with elf-like ears. She projected a nice neat-and-clean image. I wondered if these grass elves in Kizuna’s world had typical elvish characteristics, like being very proud. Your standard fantasy elves definitely had an arrogance about them. They avoided contact with other races because while the elves protected nature, other races destroyed it. I had no idea if the grass people in this world were the same. 
“Yeah, we’ve heard the rumors and are here to try it for ourselves,” L’Arc responded. 
“I see,” she replied. “Then I should probably explain how our system works. First you will be given a special card. You can accrue points on your card by supplying us with quality ingredients, supporting us with cash donations, or visiting us often.” It sounded like a fairly standard rewards scheme. “The points you have earned will decide which menu you can order from. If you want to eat our most delicious offerings, you will need to make a suitable contribution to our well-being.” Okay, now it was sounding more like some kind of members-only club . . . or perhaps a religion. In any case, they clearly wanted to project an image of luxury. It was just another strange element of the culture of the other world. “That said,” the grass girl continued, “we are aware that you cannot suddenly jump right up the rankings. So as a bonus for your first visit, you can sit over here and order from a special first-timers’ menu. Please see what you think.” Having finished her explanation, the girl passed us some menus and then moved on to the next party. 
Kizuna and the others checked the menus out. 
“Huh? There are no prices . . . Ah, there at the bottom it says that it’s free,” Kizuna said. 
“Nothing is more expensive than a free meal,” I warned her. Speaking as a merchant, I knew there was no way to know what truly lurked in the depths of anything that was “free.” 
“I guess it’s just for the first time. After that, you use that card thing she was talking about to pay, right?” Kizuna guessed. 
“That sounds about right,” I agreed. That sounded like a pretty honorable approach too . . . but there had to be something behind it. My instincts as a merchant were tingling. The most important thing, first and foremost, was to taste what they were peddling. They were clearly confident that, after you tasted their wares once, they could have their way with you however they pleased. 
“I’ve seen this approach before somewhere,” Kizuna muttered, looking at me. She was remembering the time I went around selling soul-healing water at ridiculous prices. We couldn’t do anything until we found out what kind of product they were pushing. It was quite a cunning approach, when considered from that angle. 
“First you will eat outside the building,” said the girl, returning to our party and leading us toward our seats in the beer garden. “As you rise through the customer ranks, you will be able to eat on the first floor inside, and then the second, and so on, with an enhanced menu on each floor. Our first-time diners get to order from a menu equivalent to the third floor. Please see what you think.” It looked like we started out eating outside this massive restaurant. 
“Let’s order,” L’Arc said eagerly. 
“I can’t read it,” I replied. It was inconvenient that neither the shield nor the mirror could handle this kind of translation task. 
“I’ll order for us,” Tsugumi said. She glared at me for a moment and then turned her attention to the menu. I wondered why she was so interested in my face . . . and then I worked it out. 
“I’m not some gourmet diner. I’ll eat anything that won’t kill me. Just pick whatever you like,” I said. Anyone who ate my cooking seemed to get the impression that I was some kind of freaking food critic. The one who did the cooking in the village had been worried about that to start with too, unable to relax in my presence. In actual fact—while not on the same level as Filo—I’d eat pretty much anything that was put in front of me. 
“It’s true,” Raphtalia confirmed, choosing to provide some mysterious support. “I’ve never heard Mr. Naofumi complain once about food.” 
“Hey, I’ll complain if they serve up some dollops of mud, trust me. But this is a famous restaurant, right? So anything should be fine,” I replied. 

“Okay,” Tsugumi said. “I’ll take a look.” Her face looked pretty ghastly as she turned back to the menu, however. I wondered if this was really the best idea. 
“I understand how you feel. I’ll discuss what each dish is with her and decide together,” Kizuna said thoughtfully. But behind her, Glass was trembling with an aura of jealousy, and Tsugumi had noticed it. 
“. . . Once we get back, I’d better prepare some indigestion medicine and some food soothing on the stomach,” I said. 
“Shut it!” Tsugumi shouted. 
“I’m with you . . .” Raphtalia said. 
In the end, Tsugumi and L’Arc were the two who ordered for all of us. 
“Your food will be right with you!” The hostess gave a bow of her head and then went off inside to place our order. I had nothing better to do while we were waiting for the food to arrive, so I took to doodling my plans for my next accessory. Therese peered over, interested in what I was doing. I had already made the accessories that would allow Sadeena and me to use simple magic. The issue with those was the number of times they could be used, the types of magic they could unleash, and their firepower . . . That last point wasn’t too bad, actually, but they still couldn’t match the real deal. Sadeena had decided to just learn how to use ofuda magic from Shildina. 
When I was working on accessories like this, L’Arc always started to glare at me a bit. I wished he’d just accept the situation, ask me to teach him some more, or anything at all. 
As this tug of war continued, the food was finally delivered. 
“Sorry to keep you waiting! Here is our most excellent Seya Third Floor Curry!” Curry, huh? I wondered if the “third floor” part was some kind of taste or spiciness rating. 
“That smells . . . good!” Filo said. I wondered why she phrased it as a question. It did smell like the curry I knew from back home . . . but I’d already recreated that myself. It was a while back, but I’d make a curry-like dish in the old guy’s weapon shop in Melromarc. That really took me back. I’d been kicked out in the end because the smell kept on bringing in diners rather than weapon customers. After that, I’d perfected my curry and fed it to everyone in the village. Keel actually hadn’t liked it much. 
“Let’s give it a try,” I suggested. The others agreed. They all seemed to know how to eat it. I used the spoon to mix some curry in with the rice and prepared to tuck in. 

Warning! 

That single word floated up into my field of vision. My toxin appraisal had been triggered . . . by what looked like something similar to tobacco. So it had addictive properties. I mean, I’d heard that all food contained some kind of trace toxin. Simply packing in carbs like rice and wheat was considered toxic by some people. My weapon was sometimes triggered just by using the wrong spices or herbs, so I wasn’t going to throw down the spoon and scream poison. It had been a while since I saw a reaction this severe, however. 
Raphtalia, L’Arc, and Kizuna were all already chowing down without any trouble, anyway, so it couldn’t be a serious problem. It should be fine, I told myself. I was just . . . imagining things. My toxin appraisal had become too finely honed after I learned all those compounding skills. I took a moment to alter my checked items . . . 
Silence. It was almost spooky how quietly everyone was eating. Even L’Arc, the hyperactive life of the party, was quietly chomping away. That definitely freaked me out. He was still glancing over at me as well. I felt like screaming, I’m not a food critic! I’m not about to ask to see the head chef! 
“Raph. . .” muttered Raph-chan, also eating quietly. Even Filo wasn’t getting excited. There was definitely something out of place here. 
“Filo, how is it? Does it taste good?” I asked her. 
“Hmmm? Well, it’s not as good as yours, Master,” she said. 
“What?” I replied. It was rare for Filo to downplay the deliciousness of anything. You could roast up a whole monster out in the wilds and she’d still tuck in, saying it was the best thing ever. 
“Filo! Shhh! Naofumi won’t like comparisons like that!” Kizuna said. 
“Huh?” said Filo. 
“I mean, I’m not bothered,” I said. 
“So what’s that face for?” she asked. 
“Oh, I was just surprised at Filo saying something like that. Recently, she’s been so enthused about anything she eats,” I explained. She was the greedy-guts of the group, the one who would eat absolutely anything and enjoy it. 
“I’m not sure about that. Filo actually has quite a discerning tongue,” Raphtalia said. “She always says things like this for pretty much anything you didn’t make, Mr. Naofumi.” I thought back and realized when she was stuffing herself at the castle, she had been so excited and said it tasted so good that I hadn’t really asked for her detailed opinion on the flavor. She’d said something similar when she stole an evening meal from the old guy. 
“After you and Ruft were trampled by the filolials, Mr. Naofumi, the Spear Hero tried to make himself welcome by cooking for the village while you were incapacitated. He eventually managed to convince Filo to try some of his cooking, but she said pretty much the same thing as she said here,” Raphtalia reported. Just at the mention of Motoyasu, Filo’s face twisted in pain. She really didn’t like that guy. 
“It isn’t bad,” Filo said. “It just isn’t as nice as yours, Master.” 
“Well, okay . . .” I replied. 
“All of the heroes have cooked in the village, Mr. Naofumi, but Filo and everyone else all feel the same way,” Raphtalia told me. 
“I really feel the pain of a hero who gets compared to you,” Kizuna said, offering sympathy that I didn’t really understand. Still, it was odd to see Glass, Tsugumi, and L’Arc so quiet. Kizuna seemed to be feeling that too, as she kept glancing over at Glass. Had they gotten hooked on the addictive ingredient already? 
“Dear diners, how is everything for you? Are you enjoying your repast?” The hostess girl was back, probing a little suspiciously, and so I started eating again. To be quite honest, the flavor was no better than a boil-in-the-bag curry from back home in Japan. If I had to choose between being delicious or disastrous, it was the former, but even then, it wasn’t anything special. Considering this flavor to be incredible sounded like nothing so much as subjective taste to me. 
“Well . . . how can I put this,” Raphtalia replied. 
“It’s not as nice as my master’s,” Filo stated point-blank. 
“Raph,” Raph-chan added. At that point, simple personal preference was still on the table. 
“Looks like we wasted our time. Let’s go home and get some real food,” L’Arc stated, now making the food itself sound terrible. 
“Then you wish to settle the bill,” she replied. I thought it was free. As my suspicions intensified, the girl spread both of her hands and continued. “How was the food at Seya’s restaurant? It was so delicious, wasn’t it? If you wish to become a member, please leave all of your assets or hand over anything that can be turned into money. If you leave some personal items as collateral, you can have some time to go and fetch some offerings.” I wondered what she was even talking about. Maybe she had recently hit her head. 
“Sorry, but we won’t be back. We’re leaving,” L’Arc told her. 
“Excuse me?” Her face stiffened at L’Arc’s words. Then she quickly recovered herself, smiled again, and carried on. “No, no, that cannot be. Or are you dissatisfied with the food at Seya’s restaurant?” she asked. 
“I mean, I don’t have any complaints. Just let us leave. And no more talk about ‘all our assets’ or anything like that,” L’Arc said, obviously getting a bit upset with the pushy girl. The confidence of this place was crazy, given that this was the flavor they were peddling. It wasn’t terrible, and I wouldn’t put down anyone for liking it, but it also wasn’t worth all of your assets. In Japanese terms, I’d pay 300 yen for this. Boil-in-the-bag prices. 
“Just what do you think Master Seya’s cooking is?! This is the flavor of the third floor, I’ll have you know!” the girl exclaimed. So? So what? That was the only response that came to mind. 
“Oh boy . . . you’re very pushy, little miss. I’m going to have to speak plainly now, aren’t I?” L’Arc looked at Glass and Tsugumi, and both of them nodded in return. 
“To be quite honest, it doesn’t taste very nice at all,” Glass said. 
“Yeah, it stinks!” L’Arc added. 
“. . . I can’t disagree,” Tsugumi concluded. All three of them had disgruntled looks on their faces. 
“Hold . . . hold on . . .” I said. 
“Glass?” Kizuna queried. The hostess was still off in a world of her own, however. 
“I’m sorry . . . You have more to say after that, I presume?” she said. 
“Like what?” Raphtalia asked. They had already said it tasted bad. I wondered what more she could want to hear. 
“Like, ‘It stinks. Now I have to stay in this town and become a regular diner!’ Something like that, perhaps?” she asked. Was that what people who ate this food normally said? They seemed far too confident in their product here. I mean, I had tasted it as well. Maybe the addictive quality was just making people eat it. In either case, L’Arc and the others didn’t seem to have been affected by it at all. 
Maybe she thought we wanted to leave so we could bring some money back. He had clearly stated we weren’t going to return, however. Maybe she thought L’Arc and the others were planning some kind of surprise. That sounded far too optimistic though. 
“We have nothing more to say, especially nothing like that. Our honest opinion is that it doesn’t taste any good,” Glass said. 
“Right on. We wasted our time coming here. We’re leaving, missy, that’s what we’re telling you. Goodbye,” L’Arc added. 
“I agree completely with my friends. It seems the rumors were nothing more than that—rumors,” Tsugumi finished. It was as though the three of them were actually looking for a fight. Therese, at least, kept her mouth shut, but the look on her face was not promising. 
With a stiff smile on her face, the hostess turned toward me and Kizuna. 
“Just average,” I said. 
“Average,” Kizuna agreed. “I mean, some people might like it.” Kizuna and I landed the final blows. Even the experience we received was only about half of what could be expected from the same food I made. Just as Kizuna had said, it was just average. 
“Let’s go.” I stood up to leave, and the temperature in the vicinity suddenly plummeted with murderous intent. A gaggle of other girls that also worked the restaurant all came over and started to berate us. 
“You’re saying that the food at Seya’s restaurant tastes bad?” 
“You need to learn your place!” 
“Your jokes aren’t funny!” 
“How are you unable to recognize pure facts?” 
“You are so small-minded!” 
“Do you even have taste buds?” 
“You need to change your tune or we’re going to have a problem!” 
Not only those in the beer garden but everyone around us all clattered to their feet, grabbing whatever was at hand that could be used as a weapon and looking ready to jump on us at any moment. 
I couldn’t believe this place. They’d asked what we thought, and we replied honestly. They might not like what they heard, but there was no need to mob us! If they didn’t like it, they should just let it slide. These restaurant people were way too quick to anger. 
“I see it now! You’re assassins from some other restaurant!” one of the girls shouted. I was almost willing to accept that assessment if they would just let us leave. 
“That’s not right! I’m just honestly saying that it doesn’t taste good. That it isn’t worthy of consideration!” Glass said. 
“That’s right, what she said!” Tsugumi added. 
“I’ve wasted the space for a decent meal by eating this!” L’Arc shouted. I wondered why he had eaten it all, then—some sense of obligation? 
“Hey! Glass! L’Arc, Tsugumi, can you all just calm down? What’s gotten into you?” Kizuna asked them. 
“Don’t you see, Kizuna? We eat such delicious food every day, and now we’re told that this food has the ultimate flavor! So how would we feel?” Glass replied. 
“Maybe our tongues have become so pampered there’s no turning back. But even so . . . this just isn’t it. What kind of racket are you running here, trying to get us to give up all our stuff when we just want to leave peacefully?” L’Arc said. 
“When I was eating, I just kind of spaced out . . . but also felt pretty uncomfortable. This taught me just how happy, how blessed, I have been by the flavors I’ve enjoyed recently! So what if it makes me fat? It’s far worse to be unable to say stuff tastes bad!” Tsugumi ranted. I was starting to have a real bad feeling about where this was headed. 
“Sorry, but . . . I’m starting to get a real bad feeling about this,” Raphtalia said, placing her hand on the hilt of her katana, ready to fight at any moment. From my varied experiences so far, I could tell this was heading for trouble. 
Was this my fault? No, it was L’Arc kicking things off. However, the restaurant staff pressing us for money was definitely wrong. Still, my group wasn’t normally like this, really. 
“I don’t need any trouble. Can we just pay what seems like a reasonable amount and leave?” I suggested. 
“Yes, not a bad idea. Glass, everyone, just keep your mouths closed. Naofumi doesn’t want you to make things worse,” Kizuna said. 
“That might be for the best,” L’Arc admitted. 
“In respect to Kizuna and Naofumi, let’s just do that,” Glass agreed. They were still being a bit stubborn about it, but L’Arc and the others were at least backing down. It was too late, however. 
“Unforgivable! Badmouthing Seya’s restaurant means one thing . . . death!” One of the other customers shouted and leapt at us. But Tsugumi moved faster than the eye could see, intercepting the attack and pinning the attacker. 
“Stop the violence. If we have offended you, we apologize. We just want to leave,” Tsugumi said. 
“Everyone! Punish these assassins from a rival restaurant!” the hostess girl suddenly shouted, riling up the crowd. Talk about terrible customer service! If we didn’t leave all our assets behind, would that be the equivalent of a dine and dash? But they had said it was free, so I took that to mean we could run if we wanted. 
As I was thinking this over—bang! The doors to the restaurant flew open and out came someone beating a frying pan. All of the customers and staff looked in that direction. 
“Everyone, stop fighting!” The speaker was a man, around seventeen, holding a frying pan and ladle. He was more handsome than average, but not on Motoyasu’s level. His hair was kind of reddish. He was wearing a rough outfit, like a T-shirt, and had a handkerchief wrapped around his arm. He didn’t look much like a cook and didn’t have that special craftsman kind of feeling about him. He looked more like Motoyasu might have if he had set up to do some cooking prior to going crazy. The words he said, though, calmed the hubbub down. 
“Master Seya?!” said a girl. 
“What’s all this noise about?” Seya asked. These women had been about to lead the customers in an all-out attack; that was what the noise was about. 
“These assassins from a rival restaurant said that Master Seya’s Third Floor Curry tastes bad! We were about to teach them the error of their ways!” one of the girls shouted. 
“Seriously . . . I’ve told you not to give such diners the time of day. Unless they start causing trouble, just ignore them,” he replied. I was surprised by how legit his response was. Maybe we were going to avoid trouble and just get out of here after all. 
“But, Master Seya! They claim to have tasted food better than yours!” At that line from the hostess, Seya’s eyes narrowed and glared sharply at us. Oh no . . . 
“Some part of this excitement has to have been caused by you and your party,” he said, addressing us for the first time. “If you have food that’s more delicious . . . maybe we should play by the rules in our town and have a cooking battle,” he said. 
“Huh?” I replied. 
“Allow me to explain, assassins from a rival restaurant! Not just here in town, but in the neighboring towns too, we compete to see which of two establishments has the most delicious food, staking the restaurant’s sign, rights, and assets on the table! If you lose, you have to hand over everything to us. Of course, at the mercy of Master Seya, we will feed you every day,” one of the girls explained. 
“Nope. Sounds like a pain,” I said, shooting back a response with almost reactionary speed. It was starting to sound like I was going to end up taking part in some kind of bizarre contest. 
“In which case, take back what you said about Master Seya’s food tasting bad!” the girl shouted. 
“No, we won’t,” Glass immediately responded. I just wished they would back down! 

“No way we’re taking anything back! You think the country is going to allow your stupid rules?” L’Arc bit back. In that same moment, an old man emerged from behind Seya. 
“Hoh-hoh-hoh-hoh! I assure you, peasants, my presence here makes this quite official—” the rotund little fellow started, and then L’Arc and Tsugumi gave him a withering glare. He immediately paled and fled back inside. I felt like shouting after him. Yes? You were saying something about peasants? He was likely some bigwig from somewhere, but we had the bigger wigs with us. This Seya fellow seemed to grasp the situation and raised an eyebrow. 
“I’m going to remember your face. You need to learn that your supposed authority isn’t going to work on everyone,” L’Arc said. Seya responded immediately. 
“Gah! We’re not going to bend to you! If you say our food tastes bad, prove that yours tastes better! Otherwise, we can say your food tastes worse, and you can’t stop us!” one of the girls shouted. 
“We’re going to spread all sorts of nasty rumors about you!” said another. It felt like being back in kindergarten; it really did. 
“Kiddo! Can you really back down after they’ve said all that?” L’Arc asked me. 
“Let them say what they like. This is all too much of a pain for me to handle,” I replied. 
“Hoh-hoh-hoh-hoh! I wonder what the other nations would think about the trouble these people are causing?” It was the rotund guy again, coming back to taunt us. “I’ll turn this into an international incident.” So now politics was getting involved, and over nothing but dinner. This was really getting out of hand. I couldn’t stand either of them. 
“Gah! Kiddo, why aren’t you getting more worked up about this?” L’Arc asked. 
“I think it’s more like you are getting too worked up! You aren’t normally like this,” I told him. 
“I’m not sure why everyone is getting so angry about this stuff,” Kizuna said. “This whole place feels ready to explode.” 
“Can’t we just take things down a notch?” Raphtalia muttered. I strongly agreed with that sentiment. Then I looked over at Filo . . . 
“Do we get to eat your cooking, Master?” Filo asked. 
“Raph?” said Raph-chan hopefully. The two of them had sparkling little eyes looking up at me. They got to eat it every day, and they still wanted more. I didn’t know what to do with them. 
L’Arc proceeded to take both of my shoulders and bow his head. 
“Kiddo! Naofumi! This is a battle of pride! What does ‘deliciousness’ really mean? That’s what we need to show them! Please, lend me your cooking skills!” he begged me. 
“I don’t want to lend you anything for this pointless charade!” I replied. 
“Hah! All I see is some third-rate chef without a delicious dish to his name, trying to wriggle out of being exposed! You can’t even bring yourself to face me, coward!” Seya turned on me, sounding like he thought he had won already. I had no intention of fighting this food battle, but his attitude really did piss me off. Part of the reason was how much he looked like Takt. Should I just subdue him physically? That might shut him up, but it wouldn’t answer L’Arc’s issues about pride. 
“. . . You’re going to owe me big time for this,” I said. 
“Kiddo!” L’Arc said, his eyes opening wide. I pointed at Seya and delivered my reply. 
“Very well. This will be a massive pain, but I’ll take you on,” I said. It was true: everyone always said my food was so good, and so maybe I was getting a bit carried away. But backing down was only going to piss me off even more, so I seemed to have no choice but to fight him. 
“Victory,” Therese muttered, her arms crossed. 
“You said it,” L’Arc agreed. I thought that was putting the cart before the horse a little! 
“We’re quickly becoming problem customers here! How has this happened?” Raphtalia said. I really was on her side in this. “I have to say, though, this also reminds me of when I had just met you, Mr. Naofumi. Ah, that takes me back.” I wasn’t that concerned with her remembering that piece of history! It might be an important memory for Raphtalia, but I wish she’d consider the location a little more! 
In the end, I was forced to take part in this mysterious cooking battle.