04. Villainess Lady's Diet Operation (1)
Leperi de Arno slipped her hand through the shattered doorframe, unlocked it, and barged in.
Her madness-filled eyes were still locked on me, poised to pounce at any moment.
"Th-this is my private property and shop. I don't know who you are, but smashing the door and breaking in..."
She acted like that didn't matter at all. Her eyes held zero respect for me as a fellow human.
Damn, she's a textbook noble—in the worst way possible.
"You're the guy who made the special menu at Owl's Nest Inn, right?"
She'd followed the exact route I'd hoped to lure her in with. Too bad I had no business with her now.
Or maybe I'd been too complacent. I should've predicted a food-obsessed maniac like her would pull something like this.
"Yeah, I'm Grid, the one who made the menu for the inn. But why the hell did you smash into someone else's shop...?"
Whoosh!
"Mommy!"
Before I could finish, Leperi closed the distance in an insane burst of speed.
How does a body like that move that fast? And without a sound, no less.
I can never piss off people around here. Ever.
"They said bulgogi tastes heavenly, so I came to eat some, but I couldn't even get a reservation!"
Whoa, that killing intent. How obsessed with food do you have to be to radiate this much?
"I-I see. It's a pretty strict process, right? I tried for a month myself and failed."
I immediately bowed low and groveled.
The inn manager had pulled every trick to maximize sales, so of course it was.
They handed out raffle tickets for the 100 limited portions and gave three to every guest staying at the inn. Classic sales tactics.
She'd probably tried leveraging her noble status, but what can you do when the head of her own swordsmanship department—Iris—owns the inn?
Leperi shot me a look of utter disbelief, glaring even harder.
"Don't lie! How does the guy who made the special menu not get to eat it himself?"
Of course it makes sense. Let me show you the art of the empty promise.
"Aigoo~ It's a misunderstanding! When Iris signed the contract, she told me to hand over every last drop of the secret sauce to the inn!"
"The department head...?"
"Yup! She even drops by regularly to pick it up herself!"
Not really every day, but close. She doesn't trust anyone else with something this precious, so she grabs the sauce personally after closing.
Sometimes the inn's 100 raffle tickets don't all get claimed—probably because she's snacking on it midway.
"Of all people, that monster...! At this rate, I'll never get to eat it..."
Her mood plummeted in real time. The second she heard about Iris, Leperi's shoulders slumped, and she let out a deep sigh.
No matter that she'd been the ace of the swordsmanship department before that happened—an academy student can't compete with a sword saint.
Leperi finally seemed to lose all will to fight. She gave me one last lingering glance full of regret, then turned to leave.
"Fine. My butler will come by soon to compensate for the door."
Good riddance. It wasn't fun meeting you, and let's never cross paths again.
The shop entrance felt empty now, but I figured clearing out one nuisance made it a bargain.
Wait. Is letting her go like this really okay? Is Leperi truly just a headache?
"Hold on a sec, milady."
"Huh?"
Leperi halted at the door at my words.
I hadn't planned this or called her here for it. The skill just popped into my head out of nowhere.
Lv. 2 (26%)
To level up the skill, I needed new deals. Ones with big profits and high customer satisfaction.
What about Leperi right now? She's from a wealthy count's family and came all the way here for food. Perfect.
She already meets the ideal conditions: loaded wallet and proven interest. A dream customer.
"It's not impossible for you to eat bulgogi... Ugh!"
Leperi surged forward even faster than before, grabbing both my shoulders and squeezing.
"M-mi-lady...! My bones! My bones are gonna break! It hurts! Ow!"
"Tell me... what exactly do you mean by that...?"
Oh crap. She's lost it. Her eyes were bloodshot, breath ragged. Why is she this serious about food?
"L-let go first, please! I'm just a commoner—if a swordsmanship department lady like you grabs me that hard, it hurts! Please!"
Only after my begging—straight-up pleading—did she loosen her grip.
"Spill it, Grid. I can eat bulgogi?"
"Yes. As a merchant, I obviously mark up the sauce I supply to the inn for profit."
"So? You said the department head takes all the extra sauce."
"That's just because my Eastern ingredient orders are fixed! If milady pays a little premium, what's a bit more ingredients?"
I'm already selling at max capacity, but I can skim a little from the 20 bottles, dilute with water. The inn owner doesn't have a god's tongue, right?
"Let's go to your mansion, milady."
"My house?"
"My shop isn't exactly set up to host guests right now. You wouldn't want to eat with the door wide open, would you?"
"..."
I subtly threw her door-smashing stunt back at her.
Yeah, I'm a bit petty like that.
"If bringing a commoner to a noble home is an issue, come back later. But it'd have to be about a week from now."
"A... a whole week?"
"Yeah, me and my merchant group are gonna be super busy starting tomorrow."
"No! I didn't say no! Let's go now! I'll pay whatever you want—just grab the ingredients quick!"
Truth is, I've got plenty of free time. At best, I'd hit the Adventurer's Guild Academy Branch for new customers. A shop owner before opening? Basically a legal bum.
It's like slapping a limited-time timer on a mobile game package. Eyes go wild.
Look at her— the lady who smashed my door and nearly tested my bone density, now fidgeting like she's begging for a snack.
"Got it. Wait outside just a moment while I prep."
"Whoa, it's huge."
I gawked at the Arno Count's Mansion—way too big to feel like a normal home.
Took me back to elementary school, staring up at the 63 Building on a Seoul field trip and nearly toppling backward.
Not on modern skyscraper scale, of course, but humans adapt. My standards had already shrunk to the academy shopping district.
"Hurry up and get in! What are you gawking at from the entrance? You're here to work!"
"Yes, milady."
She's so damn impatient. Commoners can gape at noble houses too, y'know. Nobles just don't get pleb sensibilities.
Pushed by Leperi's urgent back, I was led to a kitchen three times bigger than the inn's.
The chefs cleared out on her orders.
Sorry, folks. Can't let anyone see the process.
"No tool's missing. Nice~ Even rice! How much for one bowl's worth?"
The fridge and cabinets overflowed with delicacies from land and sea—including Eastern, aka Asian, ingredients.
No wonder. She didn't get fat on snacks; it was all home-cooked feasts.
Most folks wouldn't know, but snack/instant-puffed fat is a whole different beast from home-cooked, quality-food fat. The latter's harder to gain but sheds easier—proven by countless paopao hus.
But that's not the point. Customer wants a meal.
"Rice means donburi—more volume, less seasoning."
I rinsed the rice and set it to cook in an iron pot.
"Veal in bulgogi marinade... sigh..."
Doesn't compute, but can't feed a count's daughter staff-grade meat. Fine.
But is one fancy portion right for a big eater? Can fine dining satisfy as the best meal?
Nah. Taste matters, but so does quantity. This bulgogi amount? Futile.
"But I've got a fix."
I opened the skill and pulled an item from the catalog. This'll do it.
Operation: Capture the heart by conquering the stomach—go.
*
An hour and a half later, I finally plated the food on the table.
"How long does one dish take?!"
Leperi—probably starving since lunch—sat at the table, eyes bloodshot and feral again.
"Sorry. It's a time-intensive recipe."
Do you even know how long your head chef preps dinner?
Customers don't need those details, but it still bugs me.
I approached the prickly beast without delay and served the meal.
"Bulgogi, the Owl's Nest Inn special, with rice. Enjoy."
"...!"
Leperi's eyes flipped at the sight.
"Use a spoon for the right rice-to-meat ratio..."
Clink!
"Incredible... No wonder it sells out daily despite the hassle."
Before I finished, the bowl was empty. What did I just witness? Or rather, what didn't I see?
I saw her take one proper bite, then suddenly just the sound of an empty bowl hitting the table.
Guess her academy shopping district legend includes not just big eating, but fast eating too.
"Glad you enjoyed it. I'll be going now."
"Wait! Hold on! This isn't enough! I need more taste—make more!"
Yeah, no way it'd be that easy. One bowl for that build?
"Knew you'd say that, milady."
I flashed my salesman smile and wheeled out the banquet cart I'd stashed.
A whole pot of rice and a cauldron of beef.
Legend has it ancient Chinese master chefs prepped massive quantities to revive a jaded glutton's palate and satisfy him.
With Leperi's appetite, one bowl wouldn't cut it—I'd figured as much.
"Dig in."
Like grandma on Chuseok, serve with love.
20 minutes. She polished off a pot of rice and cauldron of bulgogi in 20—while minding table manners.
"Hooaaaaah..."
Leperi half-reclined in her chair, wearing the happiest expression on earth. Eyes half-lidded... blood sugar spike?
"Thank you for enjoying the humble meal, milady."
"Bes... best ever... Eating something this good till full..."
Nope. You are the impressive one for devouring that much without tiring.
"But Grid."
"Yes?"
"You said extra sauce was basically gone. How'd you make this much?"
"It's not the inn's taste. Saw rice in the kitchen and tweaked the menu a bit."
Even the best meal falls short without enough quantity. Slicing into steak then boiling ramen at home? Disappointing.
One bulgogi donburi would've satisfied mid-meal, but she'd have filled up on something else later.
Crucially, Leperi doesn't know real bulgogi taste. So I bought gyudon sauce with the skill and faked it.
"Yeah... I'd have eaten happily, then gotten sad over other food."
"Exactly. So I took a liberty with the recipe—forgive my rudeness."
"Nah. You did it for me, so no issue. Thanks, Grid."
She smiled genuinely, no venom or pretense. Whoa. Even a snowman smiling looks cute.
"Then I'll take my leave. I've only billed for ingredients and labor—send it to the shop when ready."
"Huh? Oh, uh... yeah. Pay. Got it. I'll make sure it's generous."
She looked like she had more to say—probably "cook for me regularly." Too bad, I'm no personal chef.
I left the dining room without looking back and exited the Arno Count's Mansion.
"Scheming right there on-site is amateur hour."
I needed time. For the aftertaste to linger in Leperi's heart... and for her hunger to drive her back on her own.
As expected, a few days later, someone from the Arno Count's family showed up.
"I heard the chef who made my daughter that delicious meal lives around here."
The empire's certified daughter fanatic himself: Lionel de Arno.