Later, the canteen humd with a low, uneasy murmur. Orkesh, Mina, and Manicia, along with the other eight kobolds, sat at a long wooden table, picking at roasted pork. Their eyes, however, were not on their plates. They were fixed, with a mixture of disgust and wary curiosity, on the thin orc, who sat alone at a smaller table in the corner, his shoulders hunched. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a palpable manifestation of generations of racial hatred.
Karl, observing the scene, let out a dry, rattling sigh. Racial tensions, huh? Feels like 1960s Arica, but with more fur and less jazz. He wouldn’t bla the kobolds, not truly. They had lost their hos, their families, to the orcs. That’s just how it goes in this brutal world. Well, not that I care about that, he mused, his corporate mind overriding any nascent empathy. Maximizing your custor base is always good. And a diverse custor base is even better.
He strode towards the counter, his bony steps echoing softly on the polished stone tiles. From the bustling kitchen, the Chef skeleton, its Level 17 aura almost visible, spotted Karl. It moved with a practiced speed, its assistant skeletons and the two kobold chef assistants, their small forms a flurry of activity, continuing their work without missing a beat.
"My lord!" the Chef intoned, its synthesized voice surprisingly animated, bowing deeply. "I have made progress on the thing you asked! Though the flour is of a lower quality than I would prefer, I have made adjustnts so that it suits what you were looking for, or close enough." The Chef’s empty eye sockets seed to gleam with anticipation.
Karl smiled, a dry, satisfied stretch of bone. "That’s excellent, Chef. We’ll have our first taste test of ’hamburger’ on our new guest here." He gestured subtly towards the thin orc, who flinched, his eyes darting nervously. "At least we’ll have soone different from the outside, a second opinion perhaps."
The Chef’s skull tilted, a gesture of delight. "That’s great, my lord!" It hurried back into the kitchen, a flurry of bony movents, and returned monts later with two wooden trays. Each tray held a single, perfectly ford burger, its patty thick and seared, nestled between two soft-looking buns.
"Misha!" the Chef called out to one of the kobold hunters, who was passing by. It handed her one of the trays. "Take this to your kin. One each. And tell what you think of it."
Misha, her eyes wide at the sight of the strange new food, nodded. "Thanks, Chef! You’re the best!" she chirped, and hurried towards her table where Orkesh, Mina, and Manicia were still eating their roasted pork, their gazes still occasionally flicking towards the orc.
The Chef then presented the second tray to Karl. Karl glanced at the Chef, a dry, almost teasing smirk on his skull. "You’re famous with the ladies, huh?"
The Chef’s skull seed to lower slightly, a sheepish gesture. "It’s nothing, my lord. It’s just good seeing that soone likes your food."
Karl chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Well, brace yourself. You’re going to be a lot more famous. We’re expecting a huge wave of custors soon." He paused. "How did the fruit juice go? Any progress on that?"
"Well, I tried different mixes, my lord," the Chef replied, its voice regaining its enthusiasm. "And noted the best ones. Though I’m worried about the stocks. We don’t have a lot of fruit stocks."
"Give a glass of your best mix," Karl instructed. "I’ll also let our guest taste it."
The Chef nodded, and hurried back to the kitchen, returning monts later with a wooden cup of juice. It was a vibrant, unfamiliar color, unlike any fruit juice Karl had ever seen on Earth.
"About your stocks," Karl continued, taking the cup. "You can bring that up to the new Dungeon Manager. He’ll take care of the stocks for you."
The Chef bowed. "Yes, yes, my lord."
"I’ll co back later," Karl said. "I have to entertain our guest here."
"Yes, yes, my lord," the Chef repeated, bowing again as Karl took the burger tray and the juice, and walked towards the thin orc’s table.
The orc, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of suspicion and hunger, felt his stomach rumble again. The burger on the tray looked tantalizing, its strange but delicious scent filling his nostrils. He glanced at the kobolds, who were now taking their first bites of the burgers. Their eyes instantly widened, and a few even seed to tear up. Manicia, usually so stoic, was humming sothing, a low, worshipful sound directed at the food. It must be that delicious, huh? Karl thought, a flicker of amusent.
The orc, nervous, slowly reached out and took a bite. His eyes instantly widened. He felt a sudden, intense burst of flavor, as if he had been beaten up by a bunch of cows, but in the best possible way. The seasoning, the texture, the rich, savory at—it all complinted each other perfectly. Ahhhhhhh... he thought, a wave of pure culinary bliss washing over him. It feels like my tongue, for the first ti, has been given rcy. How is this thing even possible? It feels like I’ve seen heaven for the first ti.
He then tasted the juice. It was a burst of refreshing, complex flavors, unlike anything he had ever tasted. It was sweet, tangy, and subtly earthy, a perfect counterpoint to the rich burger.
Karl glanced at everyone: the weeping kobolds, the stunned orc. What could make them react like that? Is it really that tasty? A surge of curiosity, a desire to experience it himself, washed over him. He had to know. He opened the Shop, scrolling for an upgrade.
[👃 Sense Reconstruction: Taste & Sll Protocols]Cost: 300 NP→ Grants Karl a reconstructed sensory core→ Enables "phantom" taste and olfactory analysis→ Unlocks culinary feedback, poison detection, and more→ Affects: All current/future minions[🟢 Purchase] [🔍 View Details]
He tapped "Purchase." A familiar pang, a phantom drain, as 300 NP vanished from his balance. Then, a strange sensation rippled through his skeletal fra, a subtle re-wiring of his non-existent nerves. A sudden, overwhelming burst of aromas hit him: the rich, savory scent of the burger, the sweet tang of the juice, the faint, lingering sll of roasted pork from the kobolds’ table, even the subtle, earthy scent of the dungeon stone.
Simultaneously, the Chef skeleton, who had been watching, suddenly clutched its head, its bony fra trembling. It rushed to the counter, its synthesized voice booming with raw emotion. "Thank you, my lord! Thank you! The flavors! They are... they are magnificent!" It bowed deeply, its skull almost touching the counter. Karl glanced and nodded, a dry, amused smirk.
His sense of sll and taste had returned. He reached for a burger from the tray, took a bite, and chewed slowly, savoring the flavors.
Hmmph. h. Karl’s internal assessnt was quite different from the others. The bread is quite okay, the at is superb, the seasonings and other layers are also okay. But one thing, no three things are missing. The sauce. Mustard. Mayo. And cheese. That’s what it needs. His corporate executive palate, accustod to the complex flavors of Earth, found the burger... diocre. A good foundation, certainly, but far from perfection.
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