Arachne's Kitchen
The fifty-fifth underground floor, which I was visiting for the first time, had a completely different atmosphere from the other levels.
"So this is the fifty-fifth floor..."
Under normal circumstances, the elevator doors would open to reveal two security guards standing watch in front of a narrow corridor. Instead, what greeted me was an enormous space that looked as wide as a soccer field. The vast area hadn't been left empty, though. It resembled a warehouse-style wholesale market, with rows upon rows of temperature-controlled ingredients stacked high on sturdy metal shelving units. Everything from unfamiliar produce I'd never seen before to common supermarket staples filled every available inch.
Most striking of all were the countless management team staff members I rarely encountered elsewhere. They pushed loaded trays toward a food-service elevator along the wall, emptied them, and headed back for more. The whole scene buzzed with quiet efficiency.
...The President had definitely told me to follow the smell. Feeling oddly like I'd wandered into a giant grocery store after a long absence, I started walking, letting the rich aroma of food guide me. The scent grew stronger the deeper I went, an endless labyrinth of shelves that seemed to stretch on forever.
"!?"
Something... something had definitely moved just now.
A suspicious presence had suddenly appeared right behind me—no, not quite behind, almost beside me. I whipped my head around, but of course there was nothing there. Or rather, there shouldn't have been nothing there. I glanced around, half-expecting to find Churu hiding in some corner, and realized the aisle I'd just passed had definitely held several crates of potatoes. I'd seen them only moments ago, so even if I couldn't be certain, the sense of wrongness was unmistakable.
What was that? Was it my imagination...? I really hoped it was.
"..."
Staring at the now-empty shelf where the potato crates had been, I stood frozen for a moment. Since there was nothing I could do about it right then, I started walking again, heading toward the source of the delicious smells that filled the air.
I'd already eaten a full meal with the President, but the mouthwatering aroma still pulled me forward like the Pied Piper's tune. Distracted, I barely glanced at the nameplate beside the wide-open doorway before stepping inside what looked like a kitchen.
[RL.5 - ARACHNE]
"Excuse me...?"
Stepping into the kitchen, I felt a wave of warmth. Flames flickered from several stations, accompanied by the sound of something simmering and the clean, rhythmic chop of vegetables being sliced with practiced skill. The strange part was how dim the kitchen was. Even with the faint lighting and the glow of the fires, I couldn't see a single person inside.
...Wasn't that more than a little odd? But it felt ridiculous to start questioning what was strange and what wasn't at this point, so I raised my voice again, calling deeper into the room.
"Hello? Excuse me... whoa!"
Pat...! Shhhhhk!
Something snagged my foot. I felt a sharp tug and suddenly found myself falling. In that split second, I caught a glimpse of kitchen tools—scissors, tongs, knives—toppling from the counter straight toward me. They were all falling in the exact direction I was tumbling.
My back was about to become a gruesome pincushion, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Thud! Crash! Clang!
I hit the floor and curled up instinctively, bracing for the second wave of pain. But long seconds passed, and nothing happened. Confused, I lifted my head—and finally saw her.
"Who are you?"
'Ingredients? But I thought humans weren't supposed to be used as cooking ingredients...'
The falling knives and utensils had all stopped in midair above me. They weren't just hovering—they were caught on something invisible, like threads, swaying gently in place instead of continuing their deadly descent.
"...Ah."
With movements far too graceful for her massive frame, she descended smoothly. Calling her "she" felt right, though I wasn't entirely sure. In addition to her normal pair of eyes, she had three smaller ones on her forehead, all of them fixed on me with gleaming, unblinking pupils.
She looked a few years older than me, with a sharp, no-nonsense air. But the way her eyes were filled with that strange dark color instead of white, and the vivid red of her irises, gave off nothing but an ominous impression.
"Ah... uh, I'm..."
Her skin was pale, almost tinged with blue, and her ash-gray hair was tied back in a tight ponytail. At least her upper body didn't trigger any immediate sense of wrongness. She wore a tube top that left little to the imagination, but it didn't stir any particular reaction in me—probably because of the bizarre changes that began at her waist and hips.
"...I'm..."
From there downward, her body was covered in a hard, glossy dark-blue shell that looked more like armor than skin. It spread rapidly until her entire lower half was encased in the rigid plating. But it wasn't just the armor that left me speechless.
I'd told myself I'd stop being surprised by anything in this facility, but the shape of that dark-blue carapace—clearly visible in the light—was unmistakably that of a spider. The massive, heavy abdomen and the eight long legs supporting it and stretching out in every direction were more than enough to make my skin crawl.
Back in my old apartment I'd occasionally run into spiders, but never anything this size. A spider bigger than a person... well, not exactly a spider, but still...
"Ah, so it looks like my request for an assistant finally got approved."
"...Huh?"
Thud, thud, thud...!
I'd been bracing myself to be snatched up by those eight terrifying legs and devoured headfirst, my mind going completely blank—when she simply said,
"Peel them."
"Excuse me?"
Peel what?
"The potatoes. They're right next to you."
When I turned my head, I saw a mountain of potatoes piled on the counter—the source of the earlier thudding sounds.
"Ah... but I'm—"
"I'm busy right now. We can talk later."
Clang!
She dropped a sharp kitchen knife right in front of my face—the very tool I'd need to peel the potatoes—effectively shutting me up. Then she scuttled back up into the dark ceiling without another word.
The President's warning about watching my step in the kitchen flashed through my mind with perfect timing.
The mountain of potatoes and the knife embedded in the floor inches from my face left me no choice.
"...Guess I have to, huh?"
With a resigned sigh, I picked up the knife and proceeded to peel potatoes more diligently than I'd ever done in my life. By the time I finished, the naked potatoes sat in neat, perfectly round shapes inside a clean bowl, rinsed and ready.
"Hoo..."
After wiping the cold sweat from my brow with my sleeve, I glanced around the kitchen instead of calling out to her right away. In the dim light, gas burners lit themselves one after another. Pans floated into place, and ingredients were stir-fried, boiled, and transformed into dozens of different dishes—all at the same time.
It looked like magic, but now I knew the trick. When I focused, I could just barely make out the faint shimmer of countless thin threads catching the light.
"Don't tell me... she's doing all of this by herself?"
Impressed, I looked up. Her silhouette remained perfectly still from the waist up, but her two arms and eight legs moved in a constant, dizzying blur of activity.
Thinking back... I'd barged into her kitchen, knocked over all her tools, and nearly gotten myself killed, yet she'd still taken the time to save me. That made her a good person, even if those eight massive legs and that enormous body still made my heart race with instinctive fear.
Still...
"I've finished peeling the potatoes...!"
"Oh? Already? You're fast."
'She probably thought I'd get eaten if I messed up.'
I flinched. Whether she could read my thoughts or not, she flicked her wrist. The bowl of peeled potatoes floated up and vanished into the darkness overhead. A moment later, three nets full of onions dropped down in their place.
"Huh—"
"Can I ask you for a bit more help?"
After several more rounds of ingredient prep, I was finally released from my role as kitchen assistant around three o'clock sharp.
Shhhhhk.
Ah, well—ten minutes past three, actually. That was how long it took to finish cleaning up after the cooking. She didn't do the dishes herself; I just had to sort the food waste, regular trash, and used tools into three separate large trays. Even that was apparently child's play for someone with her abilities.
Finally—truly finally—she descended from the ceiling. The sound of eight solid legs touching down on the floor was far heavier than her graceful landing suggested, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"You're more useful than I expected, Assistant."
"A-Assistant...? I'm—"
Come to think of it, naming containment subjects or revealing my own name was strictly forbidden. The only exceptions had been Lav and Harpy, and that was only because of my special role as Counselor.
"I'm the Counselor. I actually came here with a small request..."
Dropping the title "Counselor" had an unexpected effect—mostly on myself. By framing her as someone I needed to counsel and myself as the professional in charge, my nerves settled almost instantly.
She must have noticed the shift in my demeanor, because all six of her red eyes drifted down to the name tag on my chest. Unlike regular staff, my tag displayed my code name. Named employees like me weren't the type to be sent in as kitchen help.
"Coun...selor? Ah, so you weren't sent as an assistant after all...!"
'Oh no, I thought some random rookie had wandered in and assumed he was just more ingredients. Don't tell me he's here for a health inspection...?'
Rookie... ingredients. That had to be one of the most shocking first impressions I'd received since arriving here.
'He didn't run away even after seeing me, so I figured he must be the new assistant. I even tried acting all important... What am I supposed to do now...?'
Her honest inner thoughts, at least, made it clear she wasn't a bad person.
"Ah... haha, please don't worry about it. So..."
"So...?"
For a moment my mouth refused to work. I had no idea what to call her. Her code name...? What was her designation again? There had been a nameplate, but I'd walked right past it without looking.
Spider Woman...? Spider Girl...?
"I came to ask the head chef—no, the Chef—for a favor. Besides, you saved me from getting hurt earlier, so I'd say we're even."
"Ah..."
'Chef... Chef. That has a nice ring to it...'
"And you can drop the formal speech with me, if you like."
Her upper body looked almost human aside from the eyes and pale skin, but her lower half was so enormous that I had to look up to meet her gaze. Being spoken to so politely by someone I had to crane my neck to see felt strangely uncomfortable. More than that, no matter how hard I tried not to, those eight legs kept drawing my eyes and stirring up that instinctive fear.
Was there any safe topic I could steer us toward? If I stayed like this, I'd just keep staring at her dark-blue carapace.
"Are you really sure that's all right...?"
"Yes, it's fine. Ah—"
"Hm...?"
"The steak I had for lunch today was delicious. I should have thanked you sooner after such an amazing meal."
Food. That incredible steak from lunch had definitely been made by her. If we talked about cooking, I could at least keep the conversation going.
"Ah... the steak..."
'That slimy bastard who only knows how to eat...'
Rrrrrumble!!!
"...!?"
In an instant, the heavy prep tables around us were shoved aside with a deafening crash. Every utensil in the kitchen rattled and shook as if the place were haunted. The disturbance didn't last long, but I was left wondering if I'd made some terrible mistake.
"...Sorry. I just lost my temper for a second because of a certain shameless glutton you probably ate with."
'When is he ever going to send me that assistant? The number of mouths I have to feed keeps growing, but I'm still stuck cooking alone. I've complained over and over, and every time someone shows up they just steal bites of food or make lewd comments before leaving...!'
"Ahaha..."
She had her own set of troubles, it seemed. Like Undine, she was apparently a cooperative entity providing services to the facility staff. That explained why the President had sent me here. The thought eased my nerves a little. Her appearance still took some getting used to, but at least talking face-to-face had become somewhat manageable.
"Come to think of it, you mentioned a request. What is it?"
"Ah, I was wondering if you could make some treats the cats might like. If you have any ready-made Churu or similar snacks, I'd like to take some with me. I got so caught up in everything that I forgot to ask earlier."
"...I don't think we have any ready-made ones in stock, but could you wait a moment? I have the ingredients, and the recipe isn't difficult."
'Salmon or tuna... Scallop broth might be better for flavor. And some catnip powder...'
As she spoke, she wiggled her fingers, and various ingredients floated onto the counter in front of her. So she could retrieve supplies from the storage area without moving. Did that mean the ceiling out there was just as covered in webs as the kitchen...?
Rumble, rumble, rumble!!
With a casual wave, the heavy prep tables slid smoothly back into place. I tensed again for no reason, but it was the way those red eyes watched me that truly sent a chill down my spine.
Thus began a strangely tense yet oddly thrilling cooking session.