"The big mess of scribbling... Oh no, it's called The Courtyard of Thanatos, right?"
Looking at the plate of dishes exuding a biochemical aura in his hand, Shiraki pondered. He had originally planned to make a big stew, but he didn't even bother using a pot in the end and just left all the ingredients raw. To be honest, considering how terrible these ingredients were, there wasn't much difference between raw or cooked. Does anyone really focus on the ingredients at this point?
Just look at the components: acrylic paint, liquid and gaseous sulfur dioxide, plus a fermented rotten egg with an unbelievably intense aroma. Would anyone care about the actual ingredients? Shiraki doubted it, and he didn't bother to think too hard himself. After all, he could hear faint sizzling noises from the dish, suggesting some kind of chemical reaction was taking place. Whether it was real or just his imagination, Shiraki's main requirement was simple: the dish needed to hold together for at least an hour.
Despite the horrifying contents, the tray's appearance was strikingly artistic. With carefully carved shapes and vibrant colors, it looked like a picturesque "cabin in the woods." Yet in essence, this dish was a one-way ticket to disaster. Calling it "The Courtyard of Thanatos," after the god of death, was disturbingly fitting.
"The Courtyard of Thanatos? Why is it called that?"
Hisako Arato asked curiously. "It's the first time I've seen such a beautiful dish—it's like a work of art. Wouldn't it be better to call it 'Demeter's Courtyard' or something, like a gift from nature?"
She trailed off, suddenly realizing she had walked closer to Shiraki without noticing. Staring blankly at the dish, her body refused to obey her rational thoughts. Initially, the faint aroma was puzzling, but as it grew stronger, she felt as if she were soaking in a hot spring, the comfort reaching deep into her bones.
As a chef skilled in medicinal dishes, Hisako had never even imagined such cuisine could exist. Immersed in its scent, she felt an overwhelming sense of wellness. This wasn't an illusion or an association triggered by taste—her body was genuinely responding to it.
Even if someone boiled traditional Chinese medicine in front of her, it wouldn't have this kind of effect.
Could it be the colorful seasonings and those mysterious substances from the tubes? Was this some form of molecular gastronomy?
Though her thoughts were unusually sharp, Hisako found herself struggling to comprehend Shiraki's unconventional cooking process. From the ingredients to the preparation methods, it was all entirely beyond her understanding.
"Alright, it's getting a bit smelly here. Let's move to the living room next door," Shiraki said abruptly.
Erina and Hisako were still reveling in the dish's effects when Shiraki gently guided them out of the kitchen. Once they reached the living room, they noticed a silver-haired girl already seated there.
"When did you come in?" Erina asked, her brows furrowed in irritation at Alice's carefree expression.
"About fifty minutes ago. By the way, what on earth were you doing in the kitchen? Can I take a look?"
Alice wrinkled her nose slightly, trying to catch more of the intriguing scent wafting from the kitchen. It had briefly refreshed her senses before fading, leaving her intensely curious.
"Since you came uninvited, don't be so casual," Erina snapped with a blank expression.
Erina wanted to mention that Shiraki had made the dish, but for some reason, her words took a harsher tone than intended.
"I see, Erina. You're always so uptight—wait, does this mean you're agreeing?"
"Who said I agreed?!" Erina retorted, her voice rising.
As the two continued to bicker, the sound of brisk footsteps echoed from the hallway.
"Oh, he's here," Shiraki muttered, glancing at the door. He hadn't expected the other party to arrive so quickly—it wasn't even two hours yet.
With a sharp swing, the living room door burst open, revealing a teenager with a distinct rock band-inspired hairstyle. His bangs were highlighted yellow, contrasting with the black hair at the back. His spiky, two-toned undercut was unmistakable—it was none other than Terunori Kuga, the eighth seat of the current Totsuki Elite Ten.
"Erina-sama, why did you call me here? If it's work-related, I'll leave right now," Kuga said nonchalantly as he strode in. He noticed the other people in the room but didn't seem particularly interested.
Erina, who had been arguing with Alice moments earlier, immediately composed herself. Clearing her throat, she spoke in her usual authoritative tone, "Didn't I tell you to stop adding strange suffixes to my name without permission?"
"Oh, that was a strange suffix? Never mind. So, Erina, what's the reason for calling me? You know I'm very busy."
Kuga waved dismissively, ignoring Shiraki, Hisako, and Alice entirely.
"It wasn't her who called you—it was me," Shiraki interjected calmly.
"Huh?" Kuga turned to Shiraki as if noticing him for the first time. His exaggerated surprise seemed more like impatience. "So, what do you want?"
"Nothing much," Shiraki replied with a smirk. "I just wanted to ask—are you interested in becoming my follower?"