Tasteless. Is This the Empire's Best?
Evergarden. The empire's finest restaurant, where renowned gourmet Roy Fabre had showered it with praise. A true hidden gem that even nobles from influential families across the empire—and visitors from foreign kingdoms—made a point to visit at least once. Their signature wyvern steak was introduced with such fanfare for its exquisite umami that it lived up to the hype.
Evergarden's fame stemmed not just from the quality of its cuisine, but from its prime location overlooking the stunning nightscape of Oscar, the empire's proud capital, and its impeccable service. Emperors past had left satisfied, and that service was the pride of Brad, the owner-manager running the place. It remained unchanged to this day. No wonder every noble who visited sang its praises.
The empire's top restaurant. Its popularity had dipped slightly since the convenience store opened, but Evergarden still held the crown. Or so it should have.
Brad, his white beard impeccably groomed, hurried to the VIP table at the maid's summons. Approaching at a pace that preserved his dignity, he spotted the maid fidgeting anxiously in front of the VIP.
"What is it?"
"Th-the VIP requested the manager, sir."
"Did we make a mistake?"
"N-no, sir. It's not that. They're unhappy that a maid is providing service instead of the owner-manager."
"Understood. I'll handle it."
A finicky customer after a long while. Which noble might this be? VIPs who showed up unannounced were usually Marquis Blahod, Count Polion, or perhaps a member of the imperial family.
'To miss something this basic... my oversight.'
He thought he had all the VIPs' schedules memorized, but he'd slipped up. No matter. He was Evergarden's owner-manager, the general manager capable of resolving any customer's complaints. With the prestige of being the empire's best, he could surely smooth over this mistake.
Brad straightened his beard and approached the VIP without a hint of disarray.
"My apologies. Had I known you were coming, I would have greeted you personally myse—"
"The service here is a mess. Nothing like the rumors."
"K-Kim Do-jin...?"
"Long time no see, manager."
"Why are you...?"
Kim Do-jin. A commoner elevated to Evergarden VIP by Crown Prince Astur himself, thanks to his ties to the imperial family and his exploits during the late prince's rebellion. One of the rare few non-nobles granted access despite lacking a title.
Evergarden wasn't a place you could enter just because you had money. It required not only wealth but commensurate honor. Nobles, or those recognized by them for elevating their own prestige. Kim Do-jin was one such man.
But even after receiving an access pass from the crown prince, he'd never once set foot here.
So why now, all of a sudden?
Brad's mind raced. True to form as Evergarden's owner-manager, he quickly assessed the situation to provide fitting service. Was there a reason for his visit? Meeting a noble lady, perhaps? Or an important appointment? No idea. Brad knew next to nothing about Kim Do-jin.
His likes, dislikes, food preferences, social circle—zilch. Why was this man glaring at him with such clear displeasure? Brad couldn't fathom it.
"Why am I here...? That's not something Evergarden's manager should say."
"My deepest apologies. Please forgive my oversight in not anticipating your visit, honored VIP."
"Whatever. Now that we're on the same level, let's order."
"Here's the menu—"
"Then I'll have Evergarden's famous meat stew."
"Meat stew, sir? Nothing else?"
"Just the meat stew. You wouldn't tell me you're out of ingredients, would you?"
"Of course not, sir. Right away."
Whatever the reason for his solo visit, if he was here, their duty was to provide the utmost service. His seemingly picky order was just one meat stew. Brad personally presented it to Do-jin.
Tender yet melt-in-your-mouth meat stew, perfectly cooked—one of Evergarden's signature dishes. It didn't outsell the wyvern steak, but nobles who loved it ordered nothing else. Sylvia was one such customer; she adored this stew.
Kim Do-jin's sudden appearance. Excessive complaints that screamed ulterior motives. Could it be...
'Because of Sylvia?'
Brad recalled the incident from just an hour ago. Sylvia Polion. Once a noble and promising mage. Culprit of the massive fire at the Imperial Academy, expelled and stripped of her title. Yet she visited their restaurant once a month.
Brad had welcomed her until last month. But complaints from other guests about her presence, coupled with her increasingly worn dresses, led him an hour ago to eject her and declare she was no longer welcome. A decision for Evergarden's honor as owner-manager.
Sylvia's plight was unfortunate, but not their concern. They couldn't afford more noble complaints and risk losing their title as the empire's best.
But if he'd come here for that...
'Does he care that much for his employee?'
No time for deep thought, though. Intent aside, Do-jin was a customer. They had to serve him with excellence.
"This meat stew is made with vegetables grown in the southern Irbonne region and Coldbull breed from the eastern pastures."
"Yeah?"
He picked up his fork. After a bite of the steaming meat, Do-jin spoke.
"Tasteless."
It was tasteless. A brutally honest assessment, without a shred of exaggeration. For someone accustomed to modern flavors, it fell woefully short. The first taste that came to mind was Pyongyang cold noodles—bland, utterly unseasoned.
Would he feel differently in two years? Maybe this was the best in this world. That must be why Sylvia loved it so much.
But not just for the taste. Evergarden symbolized something more. It let her relive her noble days, rekindling her pride in those hobbies.
"So this is what it tasted like."
His mouth felt bitter. To eat this, she'd dressed up, saved her salary, and come here.
"What was lacking, sir?"
Manager Brad asked cautiously.
Everything. The food was awful, the service worse. The worst, most depressing experience.
"I said it was tasteless."
"My apologies. Perhaps another dish—"
"No need. It'll be the same no matter what you bring."
"......"
Brad fell silent.
Evergarden's claim to the best service? Might have to retract that. If they couldn't even satisfy a complainer like this.
He hadn't even shown a fraction of the convenience store's troublemakers, and this was the result. Disappointing.
"Why did you ban Sylvia?"
"Other customers found her presence uncomfortable."
"You think that's an excuse?"
"She's no longer a noble. We had to accommodate our other guests."
"So non-nobles aren't customers?"
"That's Evergarden's principle."
"Then why am I a VIP?"
"Because His Highness the Crown Prince—"
"Funny standard. Sylvia, who was a noble, is out, but a plain commoner like me gets in."
"Even as a VIP selected by His Highness, allowing someone previously banned—"
"So some nameless noble outranks the crown prince?"
Brad's face crumpled. Agree, and it's lèse-majesté. Disagree, and he has to reinstate her. No safe answer.
"Imperial authority must be crumbling? You can't even answer this easily. The palace knights would love it—finding someone insulting the imperial family here."
"That's not our intent. His Highness is off-topic—"
"So the crown prince has no stake in current imperial affairs? Hilarious. Add treason to lèse-majesté."
The man's face paled.
"N-no matter what you say, our principles—"
"I'm not here to change your principles."
He hadn't come to lift Sylvia's ban anyway. If she came to relive happy memories, he'd make new ones so joyful the old ones faded.
This meat stew? High-end, tricky to make, but similar stuff existed back home. With a dash of modern science—even if not pro-level—it was doable. One hit of MSG would fix it.
"I have no intention of letting her come back to a discriminatory dump like this."
Ignorance is one thing. Now that he knew, no way he'd let her suffer the same wound twice.
"I came to make you eat shit on purpose."
He'd tried to go easy since they were in the same service industry. But his employee got hit first.
"How hard would your manager have to try to kick me out?"
You need a lesson. I slammed the table.
Bang!
A light punch split the table in two.
"Tables too flimsy, huh? Use sturdier material next time. Bring a new one. And food."
Go ahead, add treason if you're pissed.
"Welcome."
Sylvia, invited to Do-jin's home, saw him waiting at the entrance in a suit.
"What's this?"
"I told you. Dinner's on me tonight—for you."
"Why the suit? It doesn't suit you..."
"Fine food deserves the right dress code."
I smiled and opened the door.
As it swung open—
"Welcome, Lady Sylvia."
Elena, in a maid outfit, bowed deeply to greet her.
"Huh?"
"This is DG Garden, where we serve guests with the utmost care."
The chandelier in the living room sparkled brightly.