The destruction of my apartment in city-Z compelled me to relocate to city-B. After gathering all my belongings from the old place, the MonsterTamer Guild extended an offer of a new residence nearby, within the newly established Guild Facility in City B.
Meanwhile, the Guild HQ had suffered complete destruction, but luckily no injuries were reported since the majority of the staff and executives were stationed in the secure underground facilities.
Unlike in City-Z, where people had become regulars at my food cart, here in city B, they were still skeptical, and only a few lined up to buy. However, I did come across some familiar faces—people from city-Z who had traveled to city B just to visit my food cart.
One of the perks of living here is that I get to see Alice every day, since she lives just a floor above. Plus, they allow pets inside, so the munchies can stay with me.
Word has spread about Chen's god-like power, though the guild isn't pleased, as he commanded the aliens to go home instead of taking them into guild custody. I'm not sure about the guild's true agenda, but I've decided to stay and investigate.
While I was cooking, I noticed a familiar figure in the distance, slowly approaching my cart. I squinted, thinking it might be FatMan, but it wasn't. It turned out to be Pig God (Class S: Rank 10), a hero.
Pig God fixed his gaze intently on the bubbling pot brimming with fragrant curry. Abruptly, he gestured towards the curry and then extracted something from his breast pocket.
To my astonishment, he produced a bundle of cash and placed it on the table. His lack of words led me to believe that he intended to place an order for some curry.
Without hesitation, I plated a generous serving and handed it over to Pig God. In the blink of an eye, the plate was rendered spotless, as if it had never held any food. He returned the plate, and I promptly served him another portion of the delectable dish.
Once again, the plate returned untouched, leaving no trace of its prior use. Pig God then seated himself at a sizable table directly in front of my food cart, patiently waiting for another serving. A palpable tension hung in the air as he observed my every move with meticulous attention.
It was like engaging in a one-on-one boxing match against a god-like adversary within the confines of a ring. Each time I attempted a move, he effortlessly countered it.
Determined, I presented yet another plate, only for it to vanish as swiftly as a bolt of lightning. Undeterred, I continued to serve him repeatedly, only to encounter the same outcome.
Noticing the dwindling curry in the pot, I knew it was time to unleash my secret weapon. With a flourish, I revealed six 12-quart pots capable of accommodating a total of 125 servings of curry. Igniting six of my stoves, I embarked on a dual mission—cooking and serving Pig God simultaneously.
As I placed the six pots on the stoves, I felt a surge of adrenaline in my veins. I knew I was about to face a formidable opponent, one who could devour anything in his path. I had to be prepared for the ultimate challenge.
In a whirlwind of action, I swiftly chopped onions, garlic, ginger, and tomatoes. With deft movements, I drizzled oil into each pot, and the sizzle of the aromatics filled the air, releasing their tantalizing aroma. The crackling sounds were like bursts of fireworks, igniting an atmosphere charged with anticipation.
As I worked, I could sense the tension in the air, heightened by Pig God's unwavering gaze fixed upon me.
With determination, I introduced chicken pieces into the mix, followed by a dash of salt, pepper, turmeric, cumin, coriander, garam masala, and chili powder. Stirring vigorously, I ensured the chicken absorbed the medley of flavors, allowing them to meld and infuse for a few intense minutes of cooking.
Meanwhile, the Munchies bustled about, efficiently procuring the necessary ingredients from the nearby market. Their keen instincts guided them to the best vendors, where they skillfully negotiated for the finest quality at reasonable prices, using their adorable expressions and gestures to their advantage.
They returned carrying bags brimming with rice, coconut milk, yogurt, fresh cilantro, and tangy lime juice. I expressed my gratitude and rewarded their efforts with treats that lit up their little faces with joy.
With the ingredients in hand, I proceeded to add water and rice to each pot, allowing the mixture to reach a vigorous boil. I then lowered the heat, allowing the concoction to simmer gently, gradually transforming the rice into a fluffy, irresistible texture.
Transitioning to the next step, I poured in the coconut milk and yogurt, ensuring the creamy essence enveloped each pot. A thorough stir combined the elements into a luscious, satisfying sauce. Carefully, I fine-tuned the taste by adjusting the seasoning—adding pinches of salt, dashes of pepper, lime juice for zest, and just a hint of sugar for balance. Finally, a sprinkle of fresh cilantro atop each pot provided a vibrant finishing touch.
The curry was now ready for its grand unveiling. Its aroma wafted through the air, an irresistible invitation to all who caught its scent. The sight of the curry was a feast for the eyes, each plate a masterpiece in its own right. It was my magnum opus, the ultimate manifestation of my culinary prowess.
With purpose, I secured a sizable tray and neatly arranged numerous plates upon it. With careful precision, I ladled generous portions of the aromatic curry onto each waiting plate. Balancing the tray, I approached Pig God's table, his anticipation palpable through his wide, eager gaze.
He resembled a ravenous predator, poised to pounce on its prey. There was no hint of hesitation or mercy in the intensity of his stare. The tray found its place on the table, and I extended a plate to him, which he accepted with gratitude, consuming its contents in a matter of heartbeats. Empty plate returned, he reached for the next, repeating this ritual with unwavering voracity until every plate on the tray lay before him, devoid of its contents.
He was like a whirlwind, leaving nothing in his wake. His appetite seemed boundless, unyielding, and without restraint. A curious crowd had gathered, captivated by the extraordinary showdown between Pig God and myself.
Yet, even as he continued his impressive consumption, his gaze remained fixed on me, an insatiable hunger still gleaming in his eyes. A gesture toward the bubbling pots on the stoves communicated his desire for more. With a resolute nod, I returned to my cart, retrieving another tray to repeat the process, delivering yet another wave of piping-hot plates, each brimming with the enticing curry.
He devoured each plate without a moment's hesitation, savoring every mouthful with an audible delight that echoed through the air.
His appreciation was palpable, his enjoyment evident in the satisfied sounds that escaped his lips as he relished every bite.
He resembled a true gourmet, discerning and attentive to each nuance of flavor. There was no trace of indifference or monotony in his interaction with the food; every bite was an exploration of taste and texture.
He looked at me once more, his expression slightly less hungry. He gestured towards the pots again, asking for more.
I smiled and went back to my cart. I grabbed another tray and did the same thing again. I served him another round of plates with curry.
He ate them all as well, but this time he slowed down a bit. He took smaller bites and chewed longer. He occasionally wiped his mouth with a napkin.
The battle was fierce, and while the victory wasn't the main goal, it was about delivering a satisfying experience to the customer.
As my ingredients dwindled and my energy waned, I found myself with just one pot of curry left. Pig God's gesture indicated he wanted more, and I took a deep breath, determined to give him my all.
In a final flourish, I served him the entire pot of curry, piled high with rice. He rose from his seat, gripping the pot and skillfully pouring the curry into his mouth while tossing the rice into the air and catching it mid-bite. His display was unlike anything I'd ever seen before.
The pot was empty, my ingredients depleted, and yet Pig God's satisfaction was palpable. He approached my cart, gave me a slow thumbs-up, and a smile spread across his face. Then, for the first time, I heard his voice:
-- That was delicious. --
A surge of honor and pride filled me as Pig God walked away, a simple yet profound compliment echoing in my ears......
Meanwhile, at the MonsterTamer HQ...
The guild's executives were in a meeting with representatives from the Hero Association.
--- We're looking to transfer three thousand monsters from our custody to your facilities, "McCoy" --- one of the guild's executives, One of the Guild's executive, stated.
-- Yes, although we've received a specific request for a demon-dragon monster from the Big Man. -- McCoy's responded
A new voice chimed in, --- Speaking of demons, one of our tamers managed to tame 50 Sea Folk, one of them possessing power similar to the Sea King. We're calling it the New Sea King. ---
-- Very well, we would like to have it at once, the problem is the logistic, how can we transfer a large number of monsters from your facility -- McCoy response.
--- We'll take care of the transfer process. Your main task is to ensure the payments are ready," another executive assured ---
The conversation took an unexpected turn as another executive stood up to suggest an audacious idea.
--- Gentlemen, consider this: why not establish a new hero organization? The Hero Association still faces issues beyond our control. By creating an organization with a purely profit-driven motive, we can step away from the Hero Association's limitations. ---
McCoy raised a valid concern, -- Creating a new organization might be challenging. The government and civilians place their trust in the Hero Association. Our actions could spark controversy. --
Majority of executive agree, as they continue the meeting the seed of the idea had been planted, hinting at the guild's hidden motives that were yet to fully unravel—a dark side that Hiro remained unaware of.
