Dark Moon
I handed the packaged chicken to the butler.
He bowed with impeccable courtesy and stepped out of the shop.
No delivery service is a real pain.
Food delivery in Neo London was a bureaucratic nightmare. Something ugly must have happened with deliveries in the past, because only certified outfits were allowed to haul food around the city. For a little place like Yuyu Chicken to get that permission was next to impossible.
“Looks like you’ve struck gold.”
A customer who’d been watching the whole exchange spoke up. He polished off his chicken with neat precision, then rose from his seat.
“The noble world is a small one. Once word gets out in that circle that something tastes this good, you’re already a success in Neo London. Congratulations, boss. From now on the place will be so packed you won’t get to enjoy this chicken in peace.”
“…Thank you. I plan to expand, so that won’t be a problem.”
“Is that so? Music to my ears. Boss, Neo London’s full of twisted bastards. They envy anyone who’s doing well and try to bleed the weak dry. If it ever gets too much, partnering with a big corporation is one way out. Or just hire more people… Either way, I figure you’ll handle it. You don’t strike me as ordinary. I’ll drop by again.”
“Please do.”
He left.
I folded my arms and glared across the street at the fish-and-chips shop, then let out a long breath.
Part of me wanted to march over there right now and settle things, but the cleanup afterward would be a mess. I was a citizen of Neo London and the owner of a chicken shop—not some outlaw.
Should I just start selling fish and chips myself? I’ve already got the fryer; all I’d need is the ingredients… No. This is a chicken shop. No point half-assing it.
Besides, I still had no hard proof the fish-and-chips guy had started the rumors. For now, I’d watch and wait.
The butler who’d taken the chicken—Hyde—showed up again the very next day.
“My master was thoroughly delighted with the chicken. He remarked that it pairs beautifully with wine. Today I’d like one fried and one seasoned chicken packaged, if you please.”
The day after that, a maid from a different household arrived.
“Fried chicken and seasoned chicken. Would seven of each be possible?”
The black-haired maid was all quiet politeness.
“Certainly. Though we’re a bit backed up at the moment… You’ll have to wait a short while.”
“I’ll wait. Please cook them well.”
Ding-a-ling!
The door swung open and another maid stepped in. The moment she saw who was already there, her eyes went round.
“Garnet! How long has it been since we left the academy? Did your master send you for chicken too?”
“Yes, Sarah. It’s been a while. Two years?”
“I’m with the Hennis Viscount household now. You?”
“Gottbell Count family.”
“Ooh, a count’s house…! I should’ve expected it. You always topped the academy rankings. Ah—right, let me order real quick. Five fried and five seasoned, please!”
While they waited they chattered away, catching up like old friends.
I worked the kitchen and kept my ears open. Talk of nobles might yield information I couldn’t get anywhere else.
They were more careful than I’d expected. Not a single word about the families they served. Just mutual well-wishes and fond memories of academy days.
Even their lightest banter carried the steel of professional discipline. These women were pros.
“Miss, what’s this?”
“Ah, that? A coupon. Collect ten and bring them back for a free chicken. You’re welcome to use them now.”
“A loyalty system for regulars? Cute.”
The maids left without redeeming a single coupon. They didn’t promise to return, either. The choice wasn’t theirs. If their masters liked the chicken, they’d be back soon enough.
“Wow. Real maids. So cool, right?”
“Yeah. I wanted to be one once… but it was way too hard, so I quit.”
The part-timers watched the departing maids with open envy.
Nothing strange about that. In Neo London, butler and maid were jobs reserved for the elite of the elite.
The next day, and the day after that, more maids and butlers kept showing up. Fried chicken and seasoned chicken had made their debut in high society.
The citizens of Neo London both resented and idolized the nobility. They copied whatever the nobles did and craved whatever the nobles ate. Thanks to that, Yuyu Chicken’s sales graph shot straight upward—practically punching through the sky.
The rumor about dirty oil? Gone without a trace.
“I heard you’re looking for franchisees… Could I get a full explanation?”
“Of course. I’m swamped right now, though, so let’s talk after closing. Read this first.”
“This is…?”
“A booklet about Yuyu Chicken. Franchise terms are laid out simply. Finish it and hand it back.”
It was closer to a full business prospectus than a simple pamphlet. I hadn’t written it. Running the shop alone already ate every free hour I had. Yuria had put it together at home, claiming she was bored.
Lately she finishes all the housework by morning and has nothing left to do… Makes sense. Our place is small and we never have guests.
She’d offered to help at the chicken shop; I’d turned her down. I wasn’t about to waste a maid of her caliber on frying chicken. After the refusal she seemed to have thrown herself into private study.
I’d caught a glimpse of her studying once and still had no idea what the subject was. Her range was absurd—law, programming, tax accounting, magic theory, city history… so broad I wondered how any of it stuck.
Time I hired kitchen help and got back to magic research.
I couldn’t keep manning the fryers forever.
Minimum two people. Three would be ideal.
Three just for the kitchen felt excessive… yet Yuyu Chicken was exploding. Even three might not be enough.
Hiring won’t change the taste. The kitchen’s only job is frying chicken for a set time. Alarms handle the rest. Nothing complicated.
Across the street, John Clark—owner of the fish-and-chips shop—clenched his teeth and glared at Yuyu Chicken.
“Damn it! Why the hell is a chicken joint doing this well?!”
He’d even spread the rumor that Yuyu Chicken used rancid oil. Zero effect. Part of it was their slick damage control, sure—but mostly the chicken simply tasted too good for anyone to care. Once nobles started showing up, every whisper John had planted vanished like smoke.
“Shit…!”
People might ask whether a booming neighbor was good for business. Absolute nonsense. Crowds only flock to the winner; they don’t even glance at the shop next door. Worse, they steal your regulars. His own foot traffic had already plunged more than thirty percent. Customers who came for fish and chips took one look at the line outside Yuyu Chicken and joined it instead.
I’m so jealous I could die!
He couldn’t sit still any longer.
He called in a younger associate he knew.
“What’s up, hyung-nim?”
“See that chicken place? Go grab some takeout.”
“Ah—the one everyone’s talking about.”
“You know it?”
“The new chicken that shattered every prejudice about fried chicken. High society’s buzzing. Started with the nobles and now it’s spreading through the upper class.”
“That big already?”
“Look at the butlers and maids lined up. Not all of them serve noble houses—most work for rich commoners.”
“Just a flash in the pan. It’ll fade.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
“……”
John changed his plan on the spot. Originally he’d intended to plant fake internet posts claiming foreign objects had turned up in the chicken. Now a greedier idea took hold.
What if he sold Yuyu Chicken’s product? His shop already had fryers. Ingredients and recipe were all he needed; frying chicken was nothing.
“Order some chicken and dig up the recipe. I’ll pay you well.”
“No idea if it’ll work, but I’ll try.”
His associate only returned two hours later, chicken in hand. The line had been that long.
John tasted the Korean fried chicken and the seasoned chicken, then clenched his fist. It was incredible. He had never imagined chicken could taste like this.
My fish and chips don’t even compare…
One bite of Korean chicken and fish and chips became unthinkable. The seasoned version especially was revolutionary.
“Recipe?”
“Asked an employee while waiting. Wanted a look at the kitchen, but it was blocked. Exact recipe’s a mystery, but they fry the bird twice.”
“Chicken this good, of course they hide the recipe…. Twice? Double-frying should make it greasier, right?”
“Beats me. I’m no cook…”
“Tell your boss there’s money to be made.”
“…With this chicken? Absolutely. Already hit high society…. But are you sure, John-nim? Didn’t you wash your hands of that life?”
“This is the last time. For real.”
“Haha. I’ll pass it on. Better package some Korean chicken to take with me.”
Ten in the morning.
I walked into Yuyu Chicken and immediately frowned. At a glance the shop looked identical to yesterday, but the details had shifted.
Counter chair nudged back a few centimeters. The kitchen door I left cracked open is shut tight.
Someone had been inside.
Not a thief.
Thieves were pointless here. Neo London citizens never paid in cash.
Came for the recipe, no question. Yuyu Chicken’s sales are climbing like mad.
Big companies had already approached offering absurd sums for the Korean chicken recipe. I’d turned every one of them down. Selling the recipe was the same as selling the entire business concept. They’d reverse-engineer it in a few days anyway… but the fact that Yuyu Chicken was the original still mattered.
This wasn’t corporate work. No need for them to risk a break-in. Assembling a research team would be cleaner and safer.