Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Sub-Heroine with 1,631 Ending Counts
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Ever since that day, I'd fallen into a trance making bentos.
Man, what can I say about this? There's just something addictive about crafting them.
"Hmm. Veggies in a chicken salad, I think. The kids can eat a ton without it being too much."
Making sweets as a Magical Patissier was fun, too, but bentos had a whole different appeal.
To be honest... aside from a few exceptions, Magical Patissier work was basically mass production. Bentos were the total opposite.
Yeah. Like building with blocks.
From the planning stage, figuring out how to cook it.
Then, how to pack it up.
How to make the setup even neater.
Stuff like that, each little detail adding its own fun.
"Oho."
Dexterity went up. That's a huge deal.
But it's a bittersweet stat point right now.
I pulled up my status window. Strength 4, Dexterity base 9 (12 with gear). Then Stamina 2, Magic Power 3, Will 5.
The issue is, one more point in Dexterity hits 10.
Because one of the newbie set items, the Gloves of Balance, loses its effect the moment a stat hits 10.
Meaning it'd drop from 12 to 10.
So right now's when the Dexterity inflation is at its peak.
Not that I'm gonna sweat it.
I milked it for all it was worth.
Plus, I can snag better gloves later.
Anyway, cooking first.
Making dishes loaded with bonus options from extra skills...!
No fiancée showing up with her baffling worldview, no registry-mate flipping me off every visit, no underclassman hounding me with profitable-but-mostly-annoying gigs, no assassin bro clinging to her concept despite her killer chat skills, no rookie making me wanna yell "your stats are better than mine!"
Time to cherish my small, precious alone time!
That's all the motivation I needed.
No other thoughts required.
The past three days taught the first-year common course students a hard lesson through their own bodies.
Might as well brave that hellish crowd and hit up a nearby restaurant!
The reason was simple.
Bentos were a status symbol!
Jefrin Academy didn't officially distinguish between nobles and commoners. That bred all sorts of corruption.
Normally, fringe nobles stuck with fringe nobles, centrists with centrists.
But come on, was that realistic? Led by royals, the Loengrins and central nobles formed cliques with peripheral kingdom royals, mid-tier central nobles, and their counterparts—building factions.
They'd scoop up talented commoners as talent pools, then duke it out in shadowy power plays.
Scouting and headhunting? Child's play.
Ganging up, backstabbing, schemes, spies, bribes, threats, extortion—the works.
There was the absolute justice squad, Eve von Loengrin, but some factions would just laugh it off: "This is internal faction business."
Eve was insanely busy anyway, so she'd usually go, "Fine, handle it." But cross the line? Snap goes your neck.
Anyway, the bento battle royale kicked off with sandwiches brought by the three hottest students around.
Commoners just envied it. Celebs eat like that? I want some.
But the other first-years who saw themselves as celebs, or the new first-years from big factions? Different story.
"Why can't I have something like that?"
"Those guys... showing off a new faction? Jefrin's sole royal faction or what?!"
"Makes sense. And scary as hell! Food's most of the fun here at Jefrin. This crushes every faction around!"
"But lunch like that... where'd they even get it?"
It was a battlefield of envy and disdain!
Sandwiches led to croquettes. Then some mystery ice cream treat only top central nobles could dream of, plus untraceable desserts.
Today? Mini steaks, even...!
"Haha! Wrapped the sandwich in sliced ham. Ham wrapping bread? Isn't it usually the other way? Total fun guaranteed!"
"Yeah... Wolfram sunbae-nim. Amazing. Honestly, genius idea. ...Amazing. For real..."
"Ugh, ugh. How do you make it so good?"
"First time my heart's racing over cooking! So fun! Heart pounding!"
"......Yeah. Agreed."
"Uh, huh? D-Don't tell me you guys too..."
"Huh? Ah! No worries, Milmyu! We're not like that! Just think he's fun?"
"Yeah. We're cheering for Milmyu, so no worries."
"...Ah, haha. No idea what you're talking about..."
Watching them chat and laugh it up, other students ramped up their own bento game.
"...Jefrin doesn't allow personal chefs."
"Ugh, if only our family's pride chef were here!"
"Wh-where'd that food come from... ugh. Royals. Royals again!"
But despair, just more despair.
No one at Jefrin could bring servants. Not even royals like Eve or Wolfram had any.
If royals didn't dare, who would?
No one had the guts to approach that Trinity rookie either.
Or the courage to face Wolfram von Loengrin's direct crew—and deal with the fallout.
All but one, anyway.
"I have a question for the three of you."
"Yeah?"
Beauty beyond human belief.
A girl who looked nobility through and through.
Shimmering silver hair. Slender build.
But eyes burning with fierce ambition.
"I'd like the name of the chef who made that food."
"Eh? Emily Haimelody?"
"Please tell me."
She bowed deeply to the chick trio.
"Wh-why?"
"The moment I saw that food, I felt destiny."
"......"
"......"
The two stared blankly at Milmyu, who pouted miserably.
"Hiiing."
Just as I was savoring my alone time, sure enough, interruption struck.
"So, you're the one behind this bento uproar."
Prime suspect: Yellow.
Bloodline-mate Eve von Loengrin barged in uninvited and dragged up the bento topic out of nowhere.
"I registered as a food business and got my health permit, didn't I?"
"Yes. Correct. Checked with [Pollution Detection] skill—full clearance, no extra sanitizing needed."
"Hmph. So quit nitpicking and leave."
"Got it. Sigh. Anyway, recommend some food, a bag of candy, and a drink."
"...What?"
"Sanitation's clean, so I can order with confidence, right? Come on. Oh, wanna try your cooking too."
"......"
What a customer. Total pain.
Ugh. But in this slow biz, even one walk-in customer—bloodline-mate or not—is gold!
"Here."
I set out leftover ham sandwiches and chicken salad from the chicks' morning batch, plus a smoothie. Eve dug in leisurely.
"...Whew. Ah, damn... hate to admit it, really hate it. Ugh, seriously..."
Eve demolished the food nonstop with her fork.
What even is that? Just admit it or don't.
"I'll be blunt. I'm pissed, so one-liner summary."
"Shoot."
"Your food holds up against imperial chefs. Ugh, hated saying that!"
"......"
Spits it out like that, then gets mad?
Well... hmm. Alright then.
Eve complimented me. Did she? Kinda.
A smirk creeps onto my lips.
"Hmph. Is that so? Eve von Loengrin, having tasted Wolfram von Loengrin's cooking, deems it no less than the gourmet imperial feasts."
"Ugh."
"I see. So the haughty Eve von Loengrin has no choice but to acknowledge this Wolfram von Loengrin! Is that it? Ah, what a comedy! Ah, haha hahaha!"
"N-No need to laugh that hard! Listen to me!"
"You don't find this hilarious? Hahaha! I'll stop soon! Hahaha!"
Eve loaded her glare cannon. I quit laughing.
Come on, people laugh sometimes.
"Good. Now we're in talk mode."
"No. I'm not. You're just assuming?"
"If I'm ready, we're good. Listen up."
That's not a talk, that's a decree?
"Sigh. What? Make it quick. I wanna cook more."
"You know the food poisoning incident? Source?"
"Food supplier screw-up."
"Got a tip: supplier cut corners with rebates, cheap ingredients past short shelf life."
"Typical."
"...Yeah. My fault for not catching it. Anyway, need new supplier. With a twist."
"Twist?"
"Yep. Bring in good ingredients cheap, better meals for students. Budget's tight, though..."
"Got it."
"You're a cooking whiz and in the biz—any ideas?"
"Consulting fee?"
"...Y-Yeah. Won't charge expedition rates from last time... room to negotiate?"
Eve shuddered as she said it.
Hm... gouged her pretty good on that expedition.
"Nah. Free advice this time."
"...For real? No take-backs?"
"Simple. Cut ingredient variety, expand recipes. More recipes overall. Like that sandwich you ate—ham inside's basic, but wrap the bread in ham, press, slice: fun new look."
"...Ah. Lower sourcing costs, innovate recipes for fresh appeal."
She's sharp enough.
Dumb in key ways, though.
"Good answer?"
"...Yeah. Great. It's not about money—it's people, right?"
"......"
Whoa, she got it like that?
Future great politician or CEO!
"...No, Eve."
"Pfft. Kidding. Good ingredients, good recipes, cut waste. Anyway, gotta go. Customers outside."
Eve flashed a smile free of headaches—like the ones I'd seen often as Kelters.
Speaking of,
Customers?
As Eve left, voices boomed outside. Student Council President! Hello! Hi. Ah, hello. ...Greetings.
Real customers, huh.
Ones I knew, even.
"Sunbae-nim! We're here!"
"Hello."
"S-Sunbae-nim. Hello."
Three chicks burst in.
I nodded. Regulars now.
But then, one unimaginable follow-up.
"Hello. Emily Haimelody."
Impeccable courtesy. I nodded back.
Of course I knew.
That silver hair. Those blue eyes.
Stoic, icy tone. Expressionless.
But that fiery gaze she couldn't hide.
"Daughter of the Haimelody royals. What brings you?"
"Did you make that food, sunbae-nim?"
"I did."
"I felt destiny in it."
Straight ball, whoa.
Impressive. "Destiny"—first since Aila to toss that word so casually.
"Eek..."
Milmyu trembled under Emily's intensity.
Vanilla and Yogurt, clueless why, gripped her hands tight.
"Wolfram von Loengrin sunbae-nim."
"Speak."
"Take me."
"Hm."
"As your disciple."
Emily bowed ninety degrees.
"Cooking disciple, right? Why?"
"I want to be a chef."
"Plenty of chefs to learn from."
"Your ideas are centuries ahead."
"Explain."
"Sandwiches are gamer snacks. Elevating them to meals with twists? Game-changer perspective."
Yep.
The Emily Haimelody I remembered.
More passionate about cooking than anyone; zilch interest otherwise. Royal princess or not.
"Fine. You're in."
"Thank you, sunbae-nim."
A faint smile.
Man, hadn't seen that grin in ages.
Though I'd seen it daily back then.
Emily.
Emily Haimelody.
"Looking forward to it."
"Yes, Master."
The heroine who'd outshone even Eve in early playthrough endings.