Chapter 30
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 30
I’ve been to a few French restaurants in my time, but…
Gio scanned the restaurant’s interior once more.
They really nailed the concept here.
Possessing far more romanticism than fear, Gio was entirely unfazed by the warning that “this restaurant was built in a dungeon where dozens of people died.”
Why should I be scared when they’re serving delicious food?
To someone like him, even the very air inside this restaurant, Istua, tasted sweet.
“…”
“Do you like it?”
“The atmosphere is nice.”
It was a pleasure just to look around.
The space was chaotic yet clean, dreamlike yet orderly. The color palette—a masterful blend of cool whites and warm pastels—was surely the work of a skilled designer.
It was a bizarre, fantastical design, as if someone’s beautiful dream had been given physical form.
Though the odds are high that whatever designed this building wasn’t human…
The intricate, beautiful structure seemed to give shape to a dream, and the sweet air made his mouth water as if fantasy itself had been brought to life. This unique experience, unlike anything he had ever encountered, filled him with the excitement of visiting an amusement park.
Even on Earth, there was a concept known as “immersive dining.” It referred to restaurants where guests could watch a performance in a themed theater and enjoy a meal that integrated with the show—an interactive play where you could eat.
But here, the restaurant’s story is tied to an entire dimension—a dungeon. Unlike a play, which is ultimately fiction, we’re sitting inside a story that actually happened. They even said the chef was the protagonist of that story.
The restaurant had a soaring ceiling, with an open center that allowed guests on the first floor to look straight up to the top.
However, the center wasn’t just a hollow void. It was filled with circular, railing-less lobbies and layers of interconnected stairs where guests could dine.
The people dining in those suspended spaces were positioned in plain view, looking for all the world like they had been cast as the main characters of this play.
“…”
Gio and Yoo Seong-un were seated at the edge of the fifth floor.
“…”
“Hmm…” Yoo Seong-un asked, looking slightly concerned. “Did you want to sit in the lobby after all? It’s a very popular spot, since that’s where the dungeon’s story actually unfolded.”
“No.”
“Ah, that was a quick answer. You kept staring at the suspended lobby, so I wondered if you preferred it.”
“I was simply admiring the architecture. It is quite pleasing to the eye.”
Out of politeness, he couldn’t reject the idea too vehemently, but he absolutely did not want to eat in that suspended lobby.
Being the center of attention like that would be far too grueling for a fragile soul like me.
While it could be considered part of the immersive experience, he had no desire to eat in a space completely exposed to the gazes of strangers. Gio was quite shy.
“I was only observing.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Yoo Seong-un said, inwardly sighing.
…Because there’s no way I can let Gio be exposed in such a public spot.
Although Gio was still wearing his hood as he had insisted, he couldn’t entirely hide his build or his aura. No matter how much he tried to mimic humans and suppress his presence, his true essence couldn’t be completely concealed.
There are about nineteen pairs of eyes on us… eleven of them are Hunters. Four are on guard, ready for anything. One C-Rank, two B-Ranks, and one A-Rank.
Istua was a unique restaurant that utilized the actual remnants of a dungeon, so ordinary people generally avoided it. The barrier to entry was simply too high for someone to just casually drop by for a meal. The prices were one thing, but more than anything, the fact that it was the site of a mass tragedy ruled it out for most.
Many people said they’d have nightmares if they ate in a place like this.
Since Hunters were used to seeing people die on a daily basis, over seventy percent of Istua’s clientele were from their ranks. Yet, even among them, reactions varied.
The influence of the dungeon’s remnants still lingers here.
The building itself could cause auditory and visual hallucinations, and in severe cases, even trigger mental breakdowns. Unless someone caused a scene, things rarely escalated that far, but many customers still couldn’t withstand the subtle pressure radiating from the structure.
“…”
And then there was this guy, Gio.
If you’re going to pretend to be human, at least do it properly.
If he openly looked around and enjoyed the restaurant so nonchalantly, he was bound to draw attention. In a space where the anomalies grew stronger the longer one looked, he was practically broadcasting that he wasn’t human.
…And besides…
Even without that eerie behavior, there was something inherently noble about Gio.
Maybe it’s because he looks like a true aristocrat that he fits in so well with a French restaurant like this.
Whether it was elegance or an imposing presence, a natural dignity exuded from his every movement, even though he was actively trying to keep a low profile.
When we only talked while he was a portrait, I didn’t notice it as much. But now that he’s out in the open, his noble aura is incredibly striking. He also has the neat, orderly feel of a temple priest.
Did he really think the phrase “ordinary person” suited him when he carried himself like this?
To begin with, there aren’t many humans like this…
Although Gio possessed a high level of respect and understanding for humanity, there were still gaps in his act. Seeing these lapses, it was clear he really wasn’t human.
“…”
Of course, Gio wasn’t thinking about any of that.
It’s been a while since I’ve been to a restaurant like this.
He was merely reminiscing as Giovanni. In truth, the dignity and grace he displayed stemmed entirely from “Giovanni,” who had been a noble, a doctor, and a priest. He was simply unaware of the habits and aura that slipped out.
“Here is your complimentary bread.”
“Thank you.”
Gio’s heart fluttered.
Bread.
He couldn’t be happier to see a lump of flour after such a long time. It brought back fond memories of the meals he used to share with his disciples during his life as Giovanni, warming his heart.
Yoo Seong-un seemed to have guessed his mood. “Do you like bread?”
“Do not worry, I eat everything. I am not a picky eater.”
“You really do love food…”
“I do.”
Gio tore off a small piece of the bread and placed it on his plate.
It’s small and round.
Instead of eating it all at once, he broke it into smaller pieces. Yoo Seong-un watched him, observing his actions.
“…”
Yoo Seong-un was inwardly convinced.
An aristocrat… or at least someone from an equivalent social class.
He could tell from the meticulous table manners displayed in every single bite.
It wasn’t very noticeable at the baekban restaurant. Did he have some connection to France? Or maybe he just has a history with Western cuisine…
Leaving the pondering Yoo Seong-un behind, Gio continued his meal.
“The bread is delicious.”
“Is it? It does have a nice aroma.”
“It is clean and savory.”
The crust was so dry it seemed parched, yet it wasn’t hard or leathery like poorly made bread. Beneath the crust, which shattered crisply like layers of pastry, lay a steaming, pillowy interior.
It’s definitely not like sandwich bread or a dinner roll. The closest comparison would be ciabatta, but even then, it’s ridiculously fluffy. It’s different from what I know…
Between the fluffiness, which felt as though whipped meringue had been used to create its texture, there was a delicate chewiness. The crisp crust, the soft and pillowy interior, and the meltingly tender chewiness offered a delightful variation in every bite. The clean, savory flavor of the bread itself, which highlighted the natural aroma of the grains, combined beautifully with the subtle woody scent of the hearth.
It’s not overpowering. Everything is in perfect harmony.
I want to kidnap the person who made this.
“The aroma of this oil is wonderful as well.”
“Ah, right? I heard it’s an oil blended from olives and mushrooms.”
“Olives and mushrooms?”
“Both are selectively bred from dungeon varieties. Maybe this suits your palate better.”
“It is certainly a unique attempt, and I like it. It is very good.”
Usually, the oil served for dipping bread was accompanied by balsamic vinegar. While balsamic, essentially a sticky grape vinegar, was exquisite, this oil uniquely contained salt instead.
It almost feels like eating raw fish.
Gio suddenly recalled the dark-blue-haired mermaid, Aria. She was a child with a strong sense of pride and a sensitive temperament.
…Aria particularly disliked strong flavors, so she preferred dipping her bread in oil without vinegar. Adding salt like this would have been perfect… I didn’t think of it back then.
Granted, salt had been expensive back then, making it difficult to keep a plentiful supply. Even though they lived in a seaside village, it was a precious ingredient.
“…”
It really did feel like eating raw fish.
The bread, with its exceptionally lively yet tender texture, evoked that exact sensation—like dipping a piece of fatty tuna belly, finely marbled with fat, into sesame oil and salt.
…Perhaps because of the combination of oil and salt, the aroma is amplified, and the grain’s sweetness is highlighted even more. It’s a great pairing with the texture of freshly baked bread.
Just as he was nibbling away, the second dish was served.
“This is onion soup topped with three types of cheese.”
Unlike the creamy soups most people imagined, this was a clear, brown broth that relied solely on the sweetness and umami of onions.
“…”
The deep yellow and orange cheese, spread so thickly that the soup beneath was invisible, was melted to a perfect golden-brown. Gio gently spooned some up.
The cheese isn’t too thick.
Unlike the crisply baked surface, the underside of the cheese was delicate and soft. Perhaps because it was in direct contact with the soup, it carried the rich, distinct umami of well-caramelized onions.
The texture of the onions is well-preserved, too. They’re cooked enough to melt on the tongue, but the fact that their original shape is still visible means the soup was prepared with extreme care. It must have taken quite a bit of time.
Cheese on top of onion soup was a classic combination, but Gio disliked it when the cheese was too thick. As a matter of preference, he hated how cheese became rubbery and tough once the soup cooled.
Some might argue that it adds richness to the texture… but that’s not for me. I just want to enjoy the soup.
Fortunately, this bowl maintained its warmth, and the cheese was neither too thin nor too thick, making it incredibly easy to scoop. Thanks to that, the natural flavor of the onions stood out even more.
“…”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. It makes my body feel warm.”
“Onion soup definitely has a restorative, comforting feel to it.”
“I think so too.”
The process of caramelizing crisp, white onions until they turned a deep, rich brown was the absolute core of onion soup. If the onions were burned or undercooked, one would end up with bland onion water instead of rich umami. This soup, however, which had squeezed out every last drop of the onions' sweetness and flavor, truly deserved to be called a restorative dish. It was impossible to draw out such flavor without an immense amount of time and devotion.
Kidnap.
Let’s kidnap the chef.
“This is the cheese flower salad with Amra purée.”
At the newly served dish and the unfamiliar term, Gio naturally glanced at Yoo Seong-un. It was a beautiful salad, topped with flower-shaped cheese drizzled with a pale yellow sauce and surrounded by neatly trimmed petals.
“…”
“…”
An explanation was needed.
“…”
“Ah… are you curious about the ingredients?”
“If you do not mind, may I ask what Amra is?”
“It’s one of the representative fruits brought from dungeons that we’ve successfully crossbred. Do you know what an avocado is?”
“I do.”
“It has a similarly soft flesh, but it’s a fruit with a nutty aroma as strong as actual nuts. The oil content is immense, and since that oil doesn’t burn easily even at high temperatures, I hear it’s frequently used in Chinese cuisine.”
“Then the flesh itself…”
“Yeah, this is the first time I’ve seen Amra used as a purée, too. Last season, they served a fruit salad. Istua changes its menu every four months, so there’s always something new to discover.”
“I see.”
The fruit called Amra had a pale yellow color, even lighter than a baby chick.
…It has a nuttiness similar to peanuts or walnuts.
Yet, it didn’t immediately make him think of nuts. If anything, it resembled the savory sweetness that emerges when chewing white rice for a long time. Then, at the very end, a deep sweetness like honey and the distinct tartness of fruit swept in, providing a delightful twist.
It is certainly quite oily. Almost like the marbling of beef…
This sweet, rich oiliness, which somehow brought to mind bone broth, paired exceptionally well with the refreshingly scattered flower petals. Gio’s gaze naturally drifted to the cheese flower, which looked remarkably like an azalea.
“…”
As he gently parted the cheese flower with his fork, he could tell that this was indeed a “flower” that had grown this way from the start.
“…The cheese flower…”
“Are you interested in it? Should I get you a seedling later?”
“Please do.”
“Sure. I’ll buy you one on our way back.”
“Thank you.”
A flower that grew cheese—it was a concept that could awaken anyone’s dormant sense of childhood wonder, something straight out of a fairy tale.
Considering the tedious process humans go through to make cheese, this is an incredibly fascinating flower.
What was cheese, after all? Was it not a symbol of hard work, obtained in minuscule amounts only after boiling, stirring, and aging milk endlessly? To have such a product bloom naturally as a flower was bound to surprise anyone. The petals were as thin and beautiful as a work of art.
What is the mechanism behind this? The taste itself seems similar to Tête de Moine…
It was a semi-hard cheese that held its shape but crumbled delicately at a light touch. While possessing the characteristic softness and richness of milk, it also boasted a strong nutty aroma and a sharp, pungent kick. The cheese flower had a slightly stronger spiciness on the tip of the tongue, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was just enough to cleanse the palate of the rich Amra purée and the natural heaviness of the cheese.
The harmony is a work of art. Is the chef a living national treasure?
Above all, the cheese flower, which was twice as sweet and savory as Tête de Moine, also carried a hint of honey—that delicate sweetness one could taste when sucking the nectar from an azalea. It paired terrifyingly well with the salad. Gio was thrilled at the thought of returning to his cabin and planting this flower.
“You look really happy.”
“Yes.”
What an obvious thing to say.
“Humans are naturally happiest when they eat.”
“Uh… is that so?”
“At least, I am.”
It had been that way ever since he used to eat the potatoes his grandmother roasted for him in the hearth. He simply couldn’t escape this primal, sensory pleasure.
A fantastic course followed: a gratin rich with the aroma of truffles, french fries lightly dusted with cheese, and beef brisket slow-roasted at a low temperature and infused with a woody aroma, topped with crispy garlic chips. For French cuisine, which was notoriously heavy, the balance was exquisite, making for a course that never grew tiring.
“Was it decent?”
“It was not just decent; it was excellent.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it…”
If you’re going to pretend to be human, how about at least pretending to pay attention to your surroundings? Humans are far more social creatures than you think…
Yoo Seong-un, who had been fielding all the curious stares aimed at Gio, let out a bitter smile.