Poulet

(Reading time: 22.5 minutes)

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Zane shouts to one of his employees, a young one, in the kitchen that's now become a lot bigger and fancier after a timeskip. "What's WRONG with you?!"

"I'm just picking a persimmon..."

"A persimmon? Does THAT LOOK LIKE A PERSIMMON TO YOU!?"

"Sorry, it's just that we've been making so much *Glassante* after it became so popular that I can't tell the difference anymore..."

"Does that sound logical to you? If you cook with tomatoes a lot and with persimmon a lot, would the logical outcome for you to be that you'll be able to handle them separately without using any of your senses, or that they become less and less separable to you?"

"Uhm, the latter?"

"..."

"..."

Zane forms an uncannily broad smile. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, eh? The issue might be work-stress related, maybe you haven't slept as much."

"N-no, I think I can tell the difference now..."

"Good."

Beardnet, who now wears a hat with an uncountable number of pleats, raises his eyebrow at the sound of the scene while he's finishing preparing a dish.

Then French-Glasses walks over to the counter where he stands, gazing lifelessly at who-knows-what with sullen eyes.

"... a *Glassante* for table C17."

"Another *Glassante*, ayh?-- Coming up," Zane says with an empathic smile. "Also, the *Glassante* for table A8 is finished."

The poor girl weakly accepts the dish and brings it over to table A8.

The reason she's *all out of spirits*? Well...

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome..."

She hurriedly tries to walk away as soon as she rudely drops the plate on the table, but the freaky customer just casually takes a bite of it with his fork and immediately comments: "Hmm, delicious! Wait, wait!"

"Thanks..." she says with a voice that's lost all hope as she's coming to a standstill. Why she doesn't just continue walking especially after dropping the plate like that, she doesn't know.

"You know, this dish somehow feels like you! I don't know why, heh-haha, but it just does, you know!"

That. That is why her eyes are so sullen. That is what's killed her joy and deprived her of all meaning. Every single time she serves someone *Glassante*, that someone is a man, and that man says the exact same thing, that it "feels" like her.

"Thanks..."

"I believe it also somehow tastes like you..."

That was it. That was the drop.

"You... you dog!"

`*Gasp*` is the sound that echoes throughout the restaurant from all tables.

"P-parrdon?" the man says with a strangely French-sounding voice. If it wasn't him saying that the dish *tastes* like French-Glasses that pulled her final cord, then this would've been it.

Immediately afterwards French-Glasses reacts by lifting the plate from the table and stuffing it in his face, to which he, the freeeeak that he is, responds by eating from it ~`*nom nom nom*`~ while the plate is yet glued to his face.

As French-Glasses turns around to walk away, now showing an expression of regret on her face, she looks up before almost bumping into the man in front of her: Zane Roland.'

"Is everything alright here?"

"That girl threw the plate in his face!"

"I saw it too!"

"Shouldn't she be fired for this?"

Zane's eyes that are locked on four-eyes' speak the affirmative. He can tell that she sees it too.

"Rosine..."

Then the two of them stand outside the restaurant at the entrance to an alley nearby. Typical, ay?

"Rosine. Tell me, are you okay?"

Rosine scoffs. "What's even the point in asking now? I'm going to get fired, aren't I?"

"I'm... look, I'm not going to fire you yet, alright?"

"Yet?"

"Yes. Look, I want to give you another chance. You've been part of this restaurant and of my life since forever, and I can't just fire you like that, even if it means damaging the face of the restaurant, but that's why I can't really tolerate that a second time. Do you get it now?"

Zane was very careful about his words, but alas. It just wasn't enough.

Rosine scoffs again. "So you are pretending like you care."

"Rosine..."

"Do you know how much I have had to tolerate so far? Do you know just how much I get harassed??"

"Well..."

"But you didn't say anything about that, did you?"

"...--"

"Have you ever?"

"..." Zane just looks at her with a blank expression. He knows that she knows that she shot him right in the bullseye, and nothing he could possibly come up with at this moment would soothe the arrow that is piercing Rosine's heart.

"Zane," she says with earnesty in her eyes. "I quit."

Rosine then leaves off before Zane can reply.

"OoooOoooOohh you made a girl cry!"

"`*Sniffs in a sad tone*`"

When Zane looks up, he sees that the voice came from the Aroma Spirit and the sniff from the Salt Spirit.

"Idiot." Salt Spirit says with a glare.

"It seems like you didn't learn our lesson properly, and that while you're the chosen one, so that means you made a mistake which you shouldn't have cause you could've avoided it!" Aroma Spirit adds.

"No," the high-pitched voice of the blue spirit with the shades says as he poofs up between the two spirits. "You are the idiots! I don't know *what* you taught him, but texture sure isn't on the list!"

"If you wanted, you could've been the one to teach him that, but where were you? So we taught him, and I don't see what *we* did wrong?"

"Well..." the Spirit of Texture says as he poof-vanishes and then poofs back up again with his hand on Zane's shoulder from behind. "Look, buddy. There are basically five principles--"

The two spirits with narrowed eyes: "We told him already..."

"They did. So what am I doing wrong?" Zane asks. He then notices how people are turning their faces towards him in response and look weirdly before continuing to move on.

"Well, okay, look, if they told you that and that's true, then there isn't really much more to add other than the fact that simply mastering a couple of principles isn't going to solve anything. Like, say, someone masters the art of baking cakes and the art of cooking rice, does that mean anyone wants a masterpiece of a cake and a couple spoons of perfectly cooked rice on one plate?"

Somewhere the chaffinch egg loving freak of a black-clad incognito man is sitting at the table in his shady and poorly-lit home.

"I suddenly... got a great idea..."

"No..." Zane replies to Texture Spirit with a whisper to avoid people's gazes. "Is this really the time to be discussing like this??"

"Right. But one who has mastered both arts didn't do that for no reason, because obviously he does that so that he can cook both on certain occassions, and a real masterchef should master both arts as well. So what do you suppose that means?"

"Well I guess what you're trying to say is that I'd need to find a balance between my professional skills so that they don't clash... like how you kitchen spirits constantly keep clashing..."

"You need to learn how you can find that balance," Texture Spirit says before poofing away again, this time leaving them.

"Riiiight," Salt Spirit says whilst rolling her eyes.

"That's why we clash, Zane," Aroma Spirit adds.

"Yeah, that wasn't very clear what he said. He didn't help me much other than giving me a clue but not telling me where to look at to make and consider that clue useful..."

"That's why we're here!" Aroma Spirit says as she proudly puts her fists in her waist as she pushes her chest forward. "`*Sniff*`"

"So bla bla bla..." Salt Spirit begins.

Another timeskip. Rosine is now happily working at a cozy cafeteria, having developped a passion for cooking herself. She still serves food, working hybridly as she also prepares the food she serves. Serving the plate for one table, she walks over to the next.

"Do you know what you want to order, or shall I wait a little longer?" she asks with a beaming smile.

"Oh I do," the man answers. "I'd like today's special," he says with excitement.

"Today's special? Alright, and anything else maybe?" - "Today's special? Since when was that a thing here?"

"Oh no, just that. Oh, and one more glass of water, please."

"Today's special and one glass of water... got it!"

Rosine then proceeds to walk over into the kitchen to her boss.

"Ah, Rosine, did you want to ask me something?"

"Yeah, uhm,--"

"Oh, right, right! It's about today's special, isn't it?"

"It is. I don't think I've been informed, or at least not by you directly."

"Right, right! I'm going to explain it right away, don't worry!..."

A little later Rosine comes back from the kitchen with a plate in her hand, this time with a weary face that appears to be towing her eyes along instead of a beaming smile like before.

"Ah, my *zanoise spongecake with fried rice*! Thank you, thank you! `*nom nom nom*`"

"Z-zanoise spongecake with fried rice..."

Zanoise spongecake with fried rice.

"Who the heck even comes up with something like this?! Seriously, this must be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard about!" Rosine cogitates, unable to keep her eye from twitching.

She then remembers the words of her boss: "It's the chaffinch egg that makes it special! It blends in so perfectly, giving a sweat and salty taste while holding on to the perfect texture. It's the complete rage these days!"

A rage it certainly is.

Still, it does make her feel nostalgic as it causes her to think back about the restaurant in which she used to work as a server. How would they be doing right now? Better or worse now that she left? She used to take a lot of responsibility and as Zane said so himself, she was fundamental to the restaurant. Still, she's feeling optimistic about it. It is Zane after all, and if he's got Beardnet, then who in the world could complain about his cooking skills? Plus with a bigger place it is only naturel to have bigger and better personnel, so if she hadn't heard any negative news from the restaurant then it could only mean that they must be doing perfectly fine. So then, again, what if she never left? Would she have found her place there? Would she have developped a passion for cooking? Would she be working hybrid like she is doing now, or maybe stand in the kitchen instead?

Whatever. This is also fine, and not getting harassed is the best part about it...

But still, while she feels optimistic, something also feels a little... something... in the corner of her left eye?

There she sees her boss (speak of the devil?) walking over to another table.

"Do you wish to order something, sir?" he asks with a beaming smile. Wow, is that what it looks like when she takes the order of a customer? And her passion for cooking... is that also because she got contaminated? By Zane? Sure, by Zane, that would be the better scenario than...

Then she also notices the customer, the black-clad incognito *thing* in the corner of her eye that made her feel unsettled.

"I would have... the *zanoise spongecake with fried rice*, please. `*Licks his lips counter-clockwise*`"

Rosine: "*Zane...*"

Something's definitely wrong.

Zane is icebearing around in his home until the Spirit of the Visual Aspect poofs up right in front of him.

"Zane--"

"Visual!"

Yep, that's how he calls him now. Much easier than uttering it in full, no?

"I don't get it! I did-- am doing everything you guys taught me, and took care of the interior and exterior designs and reviews on the internet and everything you told me about! So why, why am I losing customers?"

"You're not doing anything wrong..."

"Right?!" he says with obsession.

"... but you can't somehow metaphysically *force* people to come to your restaurant."

"Right," Zane laughs sadistically. "It's not like the rules of the Infinite Cuisine Realm... right. It's all because of that new recipe, no? *Zanoise spongecake with fried rice* they call it?"

"And you can't really blame them since it's *you* who invented *zanoise*. And yes, people are visiting every restaurant even in remote places nowadays since they like it so much."

"Those freaks..."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with liking a certain kind of dish as long as it's real food!"

"Right, you would consider that to be real food..."

"Since I'm the Spirit of the Visual Aspect... yeah, and you're the chosen one so you agree with it too!"

"I fucking do!" Zane then yells as he almost rams his fist unto his table before realising what it looks like.

"But enough! I didn't come here to argue with you. It's something serious."

Zane pauses for a moment.

"Considering how you guys have communicated with me so far, this has nothing to do with my cooking or my professional skills."

"Right, or well, look... Rosine sent you a letter."

"Rosine did?"

Zane picks up the letter that's gone through the letterbox. "There's no name on it. This is Rosine's?"

"I saw her put it there before walking away."

"I guess she doesn't want to see me anymore..." Zane mumbles as he opens the letter.

"*Men in black, all around*... I don't get it, but I think I understand why she'd rather mail me this anonymously."

"See, I didn't notice until recently either because especially I was so busy with you these days, ironic since I'm the spirit of visuals, but this is a warning. What it says is that you're being watched."

Zane pauses again. "Rosine doesnt know my secret. Then again... who's to say that the *men in black* haven't found out already?"

"I don't know either, but what are you going to do? That's what I want you to think about for now."

Zane sighs. "I don't know... Visual?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you to do me a favor? I mean, do spirits even sleep?"

"Don't worry. I'll stand watch and wake you up if anything happens. I'll tell the others to join in too, they'll listen to me in a minute, don't worry about that."

"Alright. Thank you, Visual."

"Don't mention it."

Zane lies down in his bed with his eyes still open.

"In a minute, huh?..."

Zane gets out of bed at readies himself for work as he buttons up his shirt. He throws a quick side-glance at Visual before starting a conversation with him.

"So..."

"..."

"What is it?"

"Right. There were already camera's installed in your house, although I don't know if there's a microphone on any of them. So I couldn't find any microphones."

"At this point that's probably not needed anymore anyways. So there were no funny activities during the night other than the pre-installed... spyware?" he finishes with disgust in his voice.

"I didn't spot anything and neither did the others, which were stationed away from one another except for Salt Spirit and Aroma Spirit who are the least likely to get into an argument with one another in a situation like this."

"In a situation like this he says, huh? I honestly don't know how I should feel about that..." Zane thinks. "Anyway, did you check out the restaurant as well like I asked?"

"Yes, but I couldn't find anything there."

"Well, thanks anyways."

"No need to," Visual replies. "This isn't just for you, remember? We're both just fulfilling our tasks and purposes. `*Poofs away*`"

"Yeah..." Zane mumbles. "Thanks for reminding me, I guess..."

Zane is back in the restaurant.

"Hey, Zane!" Beardnet salutes him.

"Bader, you're early."

"? Well that's nothing new or surprising at this point, is it?"

"By the way, Bader, have you seen a *man in black* somewhere around lately?"

"Like that?" Bader asks Zane.

Zane pauses to scan himself top-down to see nothing black on him, then reverts his gaze down-top just to look at Bader's triumphant grin.

"Anyway, today could be a special day since such people might be visiting," Zane thinks up at the spot. "Make sure to tell the others to pay special attention too."

"Alright, boss-boss."

Zane turns around but soon pauses. "... Say, Bader..." Zane asks with a smile without turning his face back around towards him. "Do you miss Rosine?"

"Ha! Glasses! She was a bit of a weirdo, but always fun to have around. Without her there's a void in this place, you know. Not that I can't fill that void, but... I meeeean, not completely. So it's stil there, you know. Ah, I didn't mean to criticise you or anything!"

"Hmpfh. You're a weirdo too, do you know that? Beardnet."

"Hah, look who's talking. You have literally developped a sixth sense for tomatoes!"

Zane smiles. "Well, kind of..."

That's right. A sixth sense isn't something you just magically develop. Humans have no sixth sense, and the only reason Zane has been able to appear so is because of, well, magic. He's been directed, sometimes nagged at by a handful of familiars and got granted access to a special pocket dimension that contains laws and properties that are strange to the physical universe. There he's been getting ingredients and cooking materials, sometimes has even cooked there, and developped skills such as insight that sometimes couldn't be learned even by the bests of cooks.

But who is Zane Roland? Isn't he more than just another high-level jack of all trades when it comes to working in the kitchen? No, but didn't he get his masterchef graduation by his own skills, even if he's learned them in a rather much unnatural way?

Whatever is natural and what is not, fair or unfair, real or unreal... what remains undeniable is that either way Zane is more than just an instrument. If it weren't for his own aptitude, then all would've slipped through his hands already much sooner than later.

Even so, Zane senses that outcome isn't far from possible anymore now, that he might have slipped where he could've not, and that all which required his own competence is envied by those who have the power to destroy the art of cooking where he has he power to do the opposite. Is he going to let that happen, though? No, no matter what. That's why, among other things, he's concoted to take out the best of ingredients - tomatoes in particular -, beforehand so that he wouldn't have to enter the Infinite Cuisine Realm at all.

"Good day, boss."

"Good day, boss."

Several of his employees that are about to start their shift proceed to walk in one by one until he's got most of them surrounding him.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters."

Some employees start looking at each other with puzzled faces.

"Today--"

Zane wanted to give a speech, but gets stopped by Bader who reaches out with the palm of his hand towards Zane's face.

"Today could be a special day, so the boss wants each and everyone of you to give this day a little more than you already have on your best of rounds. *Bla bla bla...*"

Zane smiles at the sight of Bader stimulating his colleagues on his own accord. Of course, the more he does this voluntarily, the more Zane can look out on his own and be alert in case something happens.

It was then...

Rosine stands in front of *Roland's Beacon*, Zane's restaurant. Her having her silk-pressed hair loose and wearing a dress that is bright red at the top and blue from the waist down combined with a white waist-band shows that she's here as a customer. For the first time since she quit, obviously, and thus she's standing at the entrance, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed before setting one foot forward first.

Then, before her heel can touch the ground, her hair is made into a mess by the wind of the black-kevlar-clad, helmeted armed men running straight into the restaurant: SWAT.'

Zane watches them as he slightly exposes his face outside the kitchen wall just enough to look at them with one eye, and as soon as the customers and servers get startled and gasp in shock, allowing the faint sound of glasses breaking and cutlery clattering among the heavy footsteps of the special forces entering, the employees in the kitchen react promptly by looking up at what's going on before they can respond on their turn.

That split second is the moment when Zane calmly excuses himself into the Infinite Kitchen to remove himself from their sight. From there, he stands watching, in the midst of the heart of the restaurant, yet not there.

"ON THE GROUND!" the phantoms in black shout as they point their rifles at the cooks' temples. The sight is enough to make the blood of Zane boil, but there is nothing that he could do either from inside the Infinite Kitchen or the material one.

"Oh my!" Aroma Spirit shouts as the slowly hovers over towards Zane. "`*sniff*`"

"What's going on?!" Salt Spirit asks as she moves towards him like Aroma and the others. Spice and Texture look at each other as if looking for who to blame, and Visual just stares with a blank expression with his eyes hidden behind his hair as usual. If it weren't for his mouth being slightly open, no one could've guessed that he too is in shock.

"WHERE'S YOUR BOSS?!"

"I-I don't know!"

"WHERE'S YOUR BOOOOS?!?!"

"I-I don't know, I swear, he was just there a second ago!"

"Check for a hidden door, he couldn't have escaped though as we've got this whole building surrounded," one of the officers says before he kicks Bader over with his heavy boot.

Zane's human frown slowly forms into that of a scary animal, and his fists go white from clenching while his whole body trembles in anger.

"They didn't see me..." he mumbles with a breathy and surprisingly calm voice.

Aroma spirit moves herself to Zane's front. "If I knew how and what, I would've said something to help you already. But now..." she says with pain in her voice.

"I know. For now all we can do is wait."

"Then, say, this situation resolves itself, because those men go away on their own. What happens after that? If they came in now, they won't forbear to come back again."

"Yeah, because there's nowhere that I can escape from them, unless you five could get me out until somewhere that I could change my identity and fucking shit..."

"If that's what you want, we're there for you, but we can't promise that it'll work. You know that as well as we do," Spice says.

"Or you can stay here forever," Texture sarcastically says with a tone of empathy. "I mean, you don't know what they want from you, but what you know is that it can't be good."

It was then...

"Wait a minute. What do you even want from him? What kind of madness could a man like him do for you to raid this place in search of him?"

"That's what we'd like to know too," one of the officers laughs.

"We were told to capture him. The details come later. Sometimes that makes things easier," another officer adds.

"..." the operator who kicked Bader stands staring at the ground silently, not loosening the grip on his rifle with his hands.

"Is there something, Caleb?" one of the officers asks him.

"Yeah, there is... stand back. Get everyone to back awAY, NOW!"

The officers then force Bader and the other cooks away from Caleb until they're far enough for himself to back off a bit before tossing a 'nade to the tile where he stood on.

As soon as the smoke from the explosion disappears, the broken tile reveals a tunnel that appears to serve as an escape route.

"Fuck. FUCK!" Caleb grunts.

None of the officers ask him. As some walk over enough to see Caleb's discovery for themselves, they prove that there is no need to ask, as neither the officers in the back appear to be puzzled at all.

Caleb then pitifully grabs his walkietalkie and starts to talkie over, unknowingly that on the other side of whatever separates the two from one another, Zane stands with childishly vibrating his tongue at him while holding a man-sized spoon in one hand and forming the shape of an 'L' on his forehead with his other hand.

"Haha, that was a good one, a good one!" Spice Spirit joyfully laughs. "See? Who called it? The chosen one, there you have it!"

"Remember what I told you? Only you are as capable as this!" Aroma Spirit adds as the rest continues to celebrate.

Well, except for one.

"*`Cough, cough`* , but this doesn't change everything. What will you do after this, Zane?" The Spirit of the Visual Aspect asks.

"Oh come on, you blind fool!" Salt Spirit nags at him "Have you lost faith in him already so soon? If he's capable of thinking of a way to fool even the *men in black*, then what do you think, that if he weren't to answer with a brilliant plan right away that we can happily go back to worrying instead?"

"Actually," Zane smirks. "I do have a plan. Although it isn't perfect, as the situation isn't perfect, it is certainly a solution."

"Learned to give *texture* to all possible circumstances that a cook can find himself in, I see!" Texture Spirit comments.

"I don't think that's a lesson you've tried to teach him," Aroma Spirit side eyes at him with her lids narrowed in suspicion.

It is a solution with *texture* alright," Zane chuckles. "One that will make sure not to worry the *men in black* bastards about me anymore at all..."

Later Bader is sitting on his couch in his apartment. He scrolls with his phone until eventually turning off his screen and dropping it on the seat. He sighs and stares at the ground with a sad-worried face. Then the bell rings.

A little later Rosine stands in front of him through the open door, her face lowered as she looks him in the eye with a just as worried face.

"You heard, huh?"

"I watched," Rosine corrects with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Now they're both on Bader's sofa.

"Now, I won't even ask how you know where I live--"

"I just looked in Zane's phone."

"His phone?"

"It happened to be right under my feet. Quite literally if you ask me."

"Okay... so I won't ask about that, then."

"... I tried to warm him, you know. I sent him a letter. I guess he read it."

"What did you write him?"

"*Men in black, everywhere*."

"Men in black, huh? He mentioned something about that, yesterday, the day when "it" happened..."

Rosine then turns towards him. "You don't think something's off about all this?"

"It's certainly weird yeah," Bader laughs.

"I mean, this is Zane we're talking about, yet... `*inhales*` the more I think back, there are things that simply don't make sense."

"As in?" Bader says with a contemplating but not really puzzled face, one that suggests he's got a feeling but not something he can point his finger at.

"His products. Do you really think he just... basically grew them himself?"

"I don't know, can't know."

"He would be quite the cook if he was both a perfect cook and a perfect--... kitchen gardener," Rosine nods. "Masterchef, then."

"Yeah masterchef."

The two remain silent for another couple of seconds.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know..." Bader sighs.

"I mean, it's not like he left the deed to the building to you, so I take it that you currently don't, well, are basically unemployed now."

"Yeah, I don't think he left me any inheritance either," Zane laughs. He then seems to reflect on his own words, basically killing off his own boss before there's even any information about him after the incident with the restaurant.

"... it's not much, but I could talk to my manager for a place in the cafeteria where I work."

"You work in a cafeteria now?"

"Well, yes," Rosine says with a raised eyebrow.

"... well, I'll think about it, but it's not exactly the thing that's going to be on my mind right now, you know?"

"I understand. And like I said, it isn't even much, like view it more of a temporarily solution."

The two stand looking at each other through the apartment's open door once more.

"Thanks that I could come here."

"Thank you for coming here."

"Well, I'll be off then. If you ever need anything...--"

"Say, Rosine, how come we've never eaten together during our break when you still worked here."

"How come?--..." Rosine then starts to smirk. "I've always hated the food that restaurant was serving, that's why."

"Yeah, well, but... you've eaten there, haven't you?"

"Yeah I have," Rosine nods, still smirking like all of this is just a joke.

"So that sounds like... you know, if I come to that cafeteria with you, I don't know what they serve, but... if none of that is what you would eat together with me, I'll prepare the best plate of *Biérdnattóin* that you ever had by myself, I can guarantee you that."

Rosine grins. "*Zanoise spongecake with fried rice* is basically the only thing they serve nowadays."

"Soooo... you like that, or?"

"I hate it," Rosine says, still grinning the exact same way.

"Then--"

"And I hate *Biérdnattóin* even more."

"Oh, I see, haha..."

"... well, maybe I hate the spongecake more. Just maybe."

"Then I guess you wouldn't like *Zanoise Biérdnattóin spongecake with fried rice* either?" Bader laughs.

"Absolutely not," the shakes her head.

"Alright, then. Well..."

"See you around."

"See you around."

Later Bader is walking into his bedroom, angry at himself.

"Eating *Biérdnattóin* together my ass," he mumbles. "I didn't even ask her number... or her Wattpad..."

Then almost as soon as he turns off the lights, he turns them back on to look at a strange paper lying on his bed.

Bader laughs awkwardly. "He didn't actually leave me the restaurant all, did he?"

"Yesss... he... did," a strangely familiar voice says from behind him.

"AAAAAAHHH!!" Bader yells, almost hitting the strange, cloaked and masked "creature" with his fist as he turns around.

"Woah, calm down, calm down..."

"Who are you?!" Bader asks, holding out his hands towards him as if he's aiming with a rifle at his chest.

"Who am I? More like *what* am I!"

"'*More like what am I*', you said?" Bader asks, then noticing the strange particles smelling like spices softly raining down on him.

"Yes! I'm Zane-- uhhh I mean, the Spirit that was guiding Zane all this time!"

"The what now?! And you were guiding Zane you said?!"

"Yes! That's exactly right!"

Bader's face appears to be going red from anger. "So it's your fault he died, you motherfucker!"

Zane's eyes flare up from behind his mask as he grabs a pile of grounded pepper from his pocket. "What did you say?? Oh now you can get it... never have you dared to talk to me like that, but now that-- `*coughs*` ahem! What I mean is that you never would've dared to talk to me like that if you were still thinking rationally! I'm a ghost now, remember? Plus it's-- `*coughs again*` ahem! Yes, I'm a ghost, so shouldn't that make you afraid of me?!" he finishes while pointing at him with his finger from his other hand, having put the former back into where it was hidden from Bader.

Bader raises an eyebrow with a perplexed face. "Are you wearing an apron?"

"Uuuhhh...-- yes, because I'm a Kitchen Ghost, you see! From the Secret Kitchen Realm!"

"Aren't you just practically making hiding our identity meaningless now?" Spice Spirit asks Zane as he keeps sprinkling spices above his head, invisible to Bader. "I mean, do I still have to do this? It's kind of exhausting, you know..."

"Can't you tell?" Aroma Spirit responds to him with a whiff of a sniff. "It isn't meaningless since he hasn't told him anything about personal access to this realm. It would be pointless too since he's the only one who can enter it."

"I don't know about that..." Spice Spirit relies with anxiousness. "Who said there couldn't be some sort of trigger for Zane's blessing to pass on to that... that chaffich egg eating freak!!!!!"

"But he isn't going to let that happen," the Spirit of the Visual Aspect answers him. "Zane hasn't given up on his *own* dream. Even if he isn't able to return to the normal world as a *human* again, it's still his own dream that he pursues, and Beardnet's only going to be an instrument to him."

"That's last part's a bit rough in the mouth though, don't you think?" Texture Spirit replies to him before each spirit looks at Zane directly from behind. "It's ever his dear friend."

Zane smiles a bit from behind his mask.

Bader: "Then what do I have to do with you now?"

"*Ahem*, the deed to the restaurant..." Zane coughs.

"The..." Bader pauses to slowly turn towards it, then back at the *spirit* again.

"So you see, Zane himself left that to you. And he wants you to take over the business for him."

"Zane, is he okay?..."

"Yes. I personally helped him escape. I've been digging tunnels and whatnot just long enough for him to take on a new identity and a new life."

"Hehe," Spice Spirit chuckles from inside the Realm. "That's you who did all that, you sly piece of shit!"

"Okay I got it, I'll take over the restaurant and... I take it that you'll guide me from now on?"

"That's why I'm here! If I made Zane into a king, then you will be an emperor soon!"

"... well, if that's the case, I suppose I'm not so humble after all, then," Bader smiles. "You see, I have one favor I'd like to ask you."

"And that is?"

"..." Bader opens his mouth into a crafty scheming smile as he averts his gaze before looking at him directly. "I'd like to prepare a plate of *Zanoise Biérdnattóin spongecake with fried rice* for French-Glasses, you know."

"The *Zanoise Biérdnattóin spongecake with fried rice*-whatnow ?" Zane asks indignantly.

Absolutely not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No matter what the reason!!!!!

Later after a timeskip, Bader, who is now the chef cook and owner of the restaurant, runs over to Rosine, who now works at the restaurant again but is eating on her break, to serve her the dish she's ordered by himself.

"Here's your *red beardnet*!" he says with the cheekiest and childiest grin ever that is inappropriate for a restaurant, especially now that they've become even more succesful and world famous.

"Well thank you, Beardnet," she answers almost just as brazenly.

"You know what's the best part about being the chef cook and owner here?" he then suddenly asks her. "I get to take a break whenever I want," she whispers at her from beside the wall he's making with his hand.

"That's doesn't really sound like your sense of responsibility matches up to your big position, you know," Rosine replies.

"Well sometimes there are things even more important than the most important things."

Rosine smiles.

"You like the *red beardnet*, don't you?"

Rosine snorts softly. "I do..."

"So you want to eat sometime together?"

"... maybe," she answers him.

"OOOOOOOOHHHH JUST LOOK AT THEM! THEY'RE TURTLEDOVES, TURTLEDOVES I SAY!" Salt Spirit shouts from inside the Infinite Cuisine Realm, unable to keep her usual calm and serene voice. Aroma Spirit sniffs in the background as she wipes her face with a tissue.

"I honestly don't know anymore if this would count as a loophole of breaking the laws of this realm," Texture Spirit says with a puzzled face as Zane keeps grinning at the sight of the two with his arms folded proudly at his chest. "I mean, if you delivering objects and ingredients to Beardnet isn't already a loophole, then..."

"Well it is a loophole, can't you see?" Visual answers him with a snicker. "This is another talent of him."

"And a talent it is," Spice Spirit adds at last with the same puzzled face and voice as Texture's. "Chaffinch egg... making fucking love potions. You really are a sly piece of shit, you know."

"Hehe," Zane giggles.

That's right. Everybody loves chaffinch egg these days.

The end.