The Moonlight Frying Pan

"Where the hell are you?"

I muttered as I scanned the thick stone chamber carved out of the cave. Forget the treasure Molrangkau mentioned—there wasn't even a trace of the cooking tools that mad chef had talked about, no matter how hard I looked. It was just an empty, worn-out room.

I scoured every inch of the walls for secret passages or hidden doors, but nothing. Just ancient statues striking boring poses.

"Sigh."

I glanced across the room with a heavy sigh. The two of them weren't even looking for the treasure. They sat facing each other, deep in some incomprehensible conversation. Mostly Geum Taeyang talking, while Molrangkau scribbled furiously in her notebook, hanging on his every word. Nodding occasionally, asking questions now and then.

"What the hell are they doing?"

Looks like I'm the only one here who gives a damn about treasure. Such upright goody-two-shoes. Am I the only one who likes treasure?

I stared blankly at the pair chatting away. Too far to hear them clearly, but their faces were visible enough.

"Handsome guy and pretty girl, straight out of a fairy tale."

Molrangkau aside, Geum Taeyang ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a total hunk too. If a guy like that existed in real life, women would swarm him. A bit roguish-looking, sure, but tall, handsome—like a statue...

"Wait. A statue?"

The only things in this empty chamber were statues. If there's a clue, it's gotta be on one of them.

I examined the statues closely. Four massive ones in the room, all in similar poses.

"Except this one."

Three held swords, staves, shields, and such. But this one? It was gleefully eating something. Ages had worn down the details of its expression and the food in the bowl, but the overall shape made it obvious: mid-meal. A cup of drink beside it, one hand holding a bowl of food, spoon in mouth.

I scrutinized it for any hints.

"Huh?"

While checking the bowl—same one I used to stamp my fingerprint in Gordon's test—the rim had tiny writing, barely legible unless you got right up to it.

'Fill his hunger with magical gourmet delights.'

"Fill his hunger?"

I checked what it held. Bowl and cup both depicted with contents carved in.

"Fill what, exactly?"

My eyes snagged on the spoon heading to its mouth.

"Fill the spoon? With what?"

I pulled water from my inventory and poured it full into the spoon.

"...!"

The water glowed faintly red and vanished. Spoon was right! But red light... so water's not the answer?

"Magical gourmet..."

Magic felt familiar.

"Where'd I hear that...?"

I reopened the quest window for clues.

Hmm. No extra hints. That crazy old coot should've left a clue if he hid it. Just 'go find it'? How am I supposed to know? Damn mad chef.

...Mad chef?

"That's right! The mad chef!"

He'd handed me the white powder and said exactly that.

'Sprinkle a bit while cooking. Magical things will happen.'

Nothing to lose. I pulled the white powder from inventory and heaped it onto the spoon.

"Yes!"

Rumble—

"Huh?"

Suddenly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the floor felt empty underfoot.

"Whoaaaaa—!"

* * *

Molrangkau, scribbling notes furiously, snapped her head up.

"Did you hear that just now?"

"Pardon? Hear what, ma'am?"

"Dunno. Sounded like a scream?"

"I didn't hear anything. We're at a crucial moment here—can we focus?"

"Ah, yeah. Carry on."

Geum Taeyang cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.

"To befriend someone, trust and honor are key. When you first met our master, what did you do?"

"...Nearly killed him."

"Exactly. Start with a sincere apology. That's step one. Then..."

* * *

"Whoaaaaa!"

The floor gave way beneath me, plunging me into a pitch-black mystery slide of doom.

"Whoooaaaah!"

Thud!

The dark bobsled ride spat me out, and I landed butt-first.

"Ow, my ass."

I rubbed my bruised backside.

"Where's this?"

Soothing my rear, I looked around. Faint light from somewhere timidly pushed back the darkness. In its dim glow, the surroundings came into hazy view: a damp, cramped cave. Artificial carving traces like the rest, but weathered and crumbling from age.

"What is this place...?"

Turning right, something pale and foggy stared right through me. Eyes, nose, mouth. Even hazy hair.

Yup. Ghost.

"Kyaaaaah!"

I screamed and scrambled back.

The ghost stared blankly and muttered.

"...Drew a girl this time, huh?"

"G-G-Ghost!"

"Yup, ghost. First time seeing one?"

"Y-Yes. First time."

"Figures you'd freak. Scream more if you want."

"Waaaah! It's a ghost!"

"This scream's less pathetic. Done now?"

"Yes."

I took a deep breath, calming down. This was a game world, not reality. Fantasy land with magic and dragons. Ghosts? Why not.

Composed, I faced the mystery specter.

"Who are you?"

"Owner of this villa."

"No way. The legendary emperor who ruled an ancient empire long ago?"

"Heh, that's me. Emperor Minare, the legend himself."

The ghost grinned smugly. Come to think of it, a crown-like thing on his forehead.

Thanks for the reminder, System. Game world confirmed.

"So you're this era's chef, then."

"Pardon? What do you mean?"

His unexpected words widened my eyes.

"Successor to my dearest friend's legacy, aren't you?"

"Who's your friend?"

"Heh. History's greatest—and worst—chef. No one who tasted his food disliked him."

Greatest and worst? I puzzled over his words and asked.

"If he was that good, why the 'worst'?"

"Believe it if I said his cooking doomed multiple nations?"

...What?

A chef destroyed countries? Multiple ones? That make sense?

"Just one chef?"

"Made them destroy themselves, precisely. None cooked better back then. Once you tasted his food, you craved it asleep or awake. Everyone wanted it. But he had a free spirit—never stayed put."

"......"

"Some got greedy, though. Tried caging that free soul."

"Who?"

"Kings of various nations, with power to cage birds. They forced him as royal chef, demanding daily feasts for themselves."

"And?"

I was hooked now, leaning in eagerly.

"He warned them: you'd regret it. But kings at power's peak ignore a mere chef. They didn't listen. Those greedy fools overlooked two things."

Minare held up one finger.

"First: he wasn't 'mere'—he was the world's favorite chef."

He raised a second.

"Second: among his fans were kings more powerful than them, and figures too mighty to imagine."

"What happened?"

"What do you think? Kings who bound him were slaughtered. Wars erupted, nations crumbled. Neighbors allied to demand his release. Continent's strongest razed palaces to bloodbaths. Even mild great mage Heinrich rained fire on the palace upon hearing he was captive."

...Gulp.

Hence the moniker worst chef.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"What became of him?"

"Who'd dare touch him after kings fell so pathetically? No one. Hence jokes of him as the strongest chef."

Minare chuckled. Emperor, huh? Bet he stormed in too.

"They called him this."

"What?"

The legendary emperor's eyes gleamed.

"Demonic Chef."

"Demonic Chef..."

I murmured it softly.

...Sounds badass as hell.

"His cooking was devilish in a way. And you're his successor."

"I see..."

Unimaginable class. But wasn't he the legendary emperor?

"What are you doing here, then?"

"Heh, came to see this era's chef. Proud just to be his close friend. He was far greater than me. Meeting his heirs is always a joy. Here for his traces, right?"

"Yes. Looking for cooking tools."

The emperor nodded.

"He wandered like the wind, then vanished. Before that, he visited my villa, cooked, and left one tool in my care."

He pointed behind him.

"Follow the light."

I cautiously approached the glow's source in the dim cave.

Something shone softly in the dark.

"Th-This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is..."

I lifted it carefully.

"A frying pan?"

The glow emanated from the pan. Its round surface bore a mystical moon, from which moonlight softly emanated.

...This is 'decent'? Mad chef, you bastard. This is an insane frying pan!