Leon Bastier was a legend in the culinary world. A Michelin-star chef, a cooking prodigy, and an absolute menace in the kitchen.
Critics feared him.
Rivals envied him.
His apprentices? Cried themselves to sleep every night.
The man was ruthless. If a dish wasn't perfect, it went straight into the trash. If a sous-chef messed up, they got an earful loud enough to make Gordon Ramsay look like a kindergarten teacher.
And yet… people worshipped his food.
There were waitlists for months just to get a seat at his restaurant. One bite of his cooking could make a grown man weep. Food critics called him the "Demon King of Fine Dining."
But for Leon? Perfection was everything.
Which was why, on that fateful night, he was standing in his kitchen at 3 AM, furiously yelling at a plate of risotto.
"This… this is garbage!" Leon growled, glaring at the dish like it had personally offended him. "The texture is off by 0.2 millimeters! The balance of flavors is almost right, but it's missing—" He froze. His chef instincts flared.
A hint of saffron.
Just a pinch.
Leon moved instantly, reaching for the small jar of saffron on the top shelf. His fingers brushed the container, but at that exact moment—
His foot slipped.
For a split second, time slowed down.
He saw the saffron jar tumbling through the air. He saw his sous-chefs watching in silent horror from the doorway. He saw his entire life flash before his eyes.
And then—
CRASH.
Leon went down like an overcooked soufflé.
His head smacked against the counter. His vision blurred. A sharp pain exploded in his skull.
And just like that…
The Demon King of Fine Dining died in his own kitchen.
His final thought?
"…That risotto was still incomplete."
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To Be Continued…