A Meal to Die For
The air around us settled in an instant. It was shocking enough that someone else was in the restaurant, but to drop dead right there after eating? It must've felt like this back when fugu first hit the scene—someone keeling over mid-bite. The Recorder's namesake, the cook, just stood there ignoring the whole scene like it was business as usual. Out of courtesy, maybe, she approached the woman and shook her body, but there was still no twitch.
Was this why Ria had warned me not to eat food off the street? If I hadn't seen that woman collapse and had just scarfed down whatever was served... No, can't think about it. Better to bail. Staying put and playing it cool seemed riskier than making a break for it now. I shot up from my seat.
"...Early bird rise!"
The woman I'd sworn was dead snapped her head up. What the—? Didn't she say her heartbeat stopped? I shot a panicked glance at Ria, who shook her head like she had no clue either. Yeah, how would you know about this freak show? But the real shocker? She'd just face-planted after eating, yet here she was shoveling more food into her mouth—smacking her lips like it was the best thing ever.
"...Hahya! This is deathly delicious... Gack."
Then—bam—head to the table, down again. Ria crept over cautiously, checked her pulse, and shook her head firmly this time. Dead for real. But not even a minute later...
"Kee-hee!"
Up she popped like nothing happened, stuffing her face wildly. Eat. Thud. Eat. Thud. Eat. Thud. The whole grotesque cycle killed any urge I'd had to bolt. Moving now might just paint a target on my back. What the hell is this lady?
The cook watched impassively until the woman polished off her plate, then flashed a bright smile. "Did the food suit your taste, miss?"
"O-One more bowl!"
What. In. The. World. No explanation anywhere, no one to ask. I just gawked, dumbfounded, until the cook approached with an awkward grin.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, sir! I'll have it ready in a flash!"
"Uh, y-yeah. Sure."
What was that? I was just here for a meal—had I overreacted? But Ria looked rattled too. R-right. Just an eccentric customer, that's all.
"...Huh, why'd I come here again?"
...I tried telling myself that, but then she started drooling. Nope, not buying it! She just forgot why she was even here! But the cooking had already started, and the door slammed shut with a bang.
"Hmm, humm~"
The cook hummed cheerfully as she headed to her tools. What happened next made me doubt my own eyes. She reached into thin air, and her arm vanished. No—it had slipped into another space, invisible to me! She rummaged around, humming "Where is it~?" excitedly, then yanked with a beaming smile.
Out came... a massive wild boar, big enough to fill the kitchen. And this wasn't your average boar—blood-red eyes, fur an unnatural crimson. Alive, too, thrashing wildly! Ferocious!
Something that prowls an Outer God's garden has to be insanely dangerous! The cook was a Greater Outer God, just as I'd suspected. With a serene smile, she flicked her wrist casually, and the live beast turned into neat slabs of meat on the cutting board—like a game skipping the gore. Thud thud thud.
"Ooh."
Her movements were pure showmanship to my eyes. Thanks to Super Coward Mode, no doubt—without it, blood would be spraying everywhere. What if I'd spawned here without this mode? Wait, without installing it, I wouldn't be here at all.
She stashed the rest in the fridge, fetched veggies from another dimension the same way, and lined them up. Spotting something, she snapped her fingers, lit a match, and tossed it into the air. The flame swelled, morphing into a fancy knife and spatula. Alchemical mastery. I stared blankly as she grabbed a pan, leaving the knife to chop on its own.
She hummed happily, cozy to watch—but that drooling woman's head-smashing killed the vibe. Felt like poison.
She tossed the finely diced ingredients into the pan, stir-fried briskly, and boom: spicy pork stir-fry, done. She heaped rice into a stone bowl, plated it prettily, and set it before me. Stiffening my neck to peek, I saw her beaming, chin in hands.
"Enjoy!"
Haa. Fine. If I feel like keeling over, just call the Gardener for backup. Party flute's on cooldown, but she swore she'd help once. ...Even steeling myself like that, I couldn't lift the spoon. Not with her beaming expectant smile bearing down. Meanwhile, Ria chowed down like it was fine, cheeks bulging happily—total opposite of her street-food warnings. Confusing.
"Street food no, restaurant food yes?"
Time passed; Ria was fine. Maybe Outer Gods don't affect each other much. Or some hidden gimmick I missed. Ria usually dropped subtle hints in these spots—can't speak directly, so indirect it is. I watched her eat closely.
She skipped the spoon entirely, using only chopsticks. Too heavy? Nah, no strain. Meanwhile, drool-lady—still head-thumping the table—used only the spoon on her rice and chopsticks dish. Unfamiliar with chopsticks, maybe. But utensils shouldn't matter that much...
Then it hit me watching her. Ria ordered pork cutlet, sliced it into neat shapes with the knife, and ate it intact with chopsticks. Drool-lady was mashing rice grains to mush with her spoon. That's it? Preserve the form, and it's food; destroy it, poison. Like sodium and chlorine—deadly alone, delicious salt together.
That's why no street scraps—they were mangled weirdly. Eating that kills. Ria's portions were cut neatly or scooped without smashing.
...Alright, let's try. Do or die! Spoon in, scoop rice without squishing, chopstick a piece of pork atop it.
"...Good."
Eyes shut, I chewed. Knowing the trick helped, but nerves buzzed. Please be fine... Huh? The more I chewed, the more my face relaxed. Because... it wasn't just looks. Real spicy pork stir-fry—from some hidden village master's lunch spot!
Swallowed, braced for issues—nothing. Body fine.
"Haa... haa..."
Tension exhale. Ria watched eagerly: 'See? Totally fine!' Thumbs up; she grinned.
One bite to two, then—bowl scraped clean, not a grain left. Like finishing a mission, I panted again and looked up.
"Thanks for the—"
The cook's face wasn't the warm glow I'd expected. Eyes wide, like she'd seen the impossible.
Sh-it! Poison after all! Hands shook, fearing drool-lady's fate.
"...Hic."
A sob cut through. Huh? Who—? Right in front. The cook, hand over mouth, tears streaming.
"Wh-what's wrong?!"
"Hic, sob, haa, sniff. D-did the food taste alright?"
Needing confirmation even mid-tears. No clue why, but no issues, tasted great...
"Yes! Best I've ever had."
Sobs erupted.
"Waaah!"
"Y-yes?! You okay?"
No calming her.
# I understood only after she calmed and explained.
"...The Knights' Diner... was made for knights from the human world. In this frozen hell, where they devour each other and themselves from starvation—their hunger and fear called me. I'm the one who fills that. I made it to ease their suffering... but reality differed."
She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and continued.
"Every human who ate my food ended up hideous. Too gruesome to describe. They couldn't even talk to me—many fled at my sight. I'd grab them to keep them from starving, force-feed something, but same result. All I wanted was a blizzardless haven from fear."
Ah, so that's it. Rondan's Iron Rules shun Outer God contact—eating their food wrecks the body, goodwill or not. I'm fine now, thanks to Super Coward Mode... feeling healthier even. Stood casually—muscles flexed stronger than usual, lost balance, tumbled.
"Ugh, ow!"
"You alright?!"
What? Body surging? Not imagination. Jumped in place—boing boing, way too bouncy.
"Gardener?"
Her food boosts physical stats for humans? Eat to grow stronger? Game-changer against Outer Gods—like that candy! No more getting overpowered.
"Not hurt anywhere?!"
Worried, she rushed over, bouncing me around. I grabbed her hands.
"Eep."
"...Wanna be friends?"
Sudden, but she blinked, then smiled radiantly. "Abrupt, but sure—if you'll have me..."
Score! Outer God secret friend +1. Feels like romancing game NPCs. ...Not the time or place.
Party flute access now? Risk paid off—mood lifted.
Thud.
"...How long's she gonna keep this up?"
"Dunno. Glad she enjoyed it, but..."
Ignoring us, the woman shoved her bowl forward—revived again.
"One more!"
...This normal?