Chapter Text
The shop possessed no signage, no advertisement, no painted mural or an engraved design.
It was a sleek cut of black stone that stood within an alleyway of the Royal Capital’s merchant district — smushed right between a sorry dye shop and a warehouse that had seen dozens of rodent families. It was a lower part of the city with less foot traffic, less respect, and a dignity abandoned for practical survival. It hung in the air — wet mud from abandoned street projects, the stench of dozens of burnt candles, and the background noise of boots on gravel.
Its presence was a contradiction.
Smooth steel that was shaped with mechanical grace; stainless windows gleamed with the clarity of a water’s surface; this cutting geometry existed alongside labor-born stone and old wood.
In front of the door lay a black dog. Its head was buried between its two large paws, its floppy ears drooped, and its eyes were closed.
For a second, its ears raised and those eyelids fluttered open, assessment and something more behind its gaze.
Aware that nothing was amiss, it lowered its head and continued its slumber.
✧ ⋆ ✦ ⋆ ✧
Od Laguna.
It was a realm of multi-colored hair, demi-humans of many horns and furs, and carriages pulled forward by dragons. Its residents practiced a thing called magic, and it was present from within the air and soil to right from within one’s very being.
Over millennia, four massive stretches of land coalesced into four great nations: Lugunica, The Dragon Kingdom; Vollachia, Land of the Wolves; Kararagi, The Ten Merchant-States; Gusteko, Holy Land of Spirits. Each country was bordered by a natural phenomenon called the Great Waterfall, and it’s where this vast world started and ended.
Natsuki Subaru — a hapless, penniless, Japanese teen from another world — had been plunked right into the midst of it all.
It started with a convenience store trip to further fuel his bedroom-dwelling means: a cheap cup of Noodle the Tonkotsu, a bag of potato chips, and the pocket change that was left over. He shuffled out with his ancient flipphone, a ridged coin, and the physical evidence of 400 yen sitting in a plastic grocery bag.
His time on earth would end with an eye rub, a promise to wash the dishes in his mother’s place, and another promise he wouldn’t fulfill, which was a full 8-hours of sleep.
Since then, he had been shoved into a tumultuous sequence of events that ended in soaked clothes, a busted lip, and the acceptance that he was definitely dying pathetically in an alleyway, having not achieved anything.
However, fate was an individual with many peculiarities. On that day, his destiny had been miraculously bestowed, and the proceeding actions of that change would cast many ripples throughout this world.
✦
Subaru was cutting onions; the act of cutting onions wasn’t in a figurative sense.
His eyes were glued to the cutting board, and his tongue poked out from the edge of his lips habitually. His hands, holding the Chef’s Knife — and he had each tool’s specific name beaten into him — glided through the remaining chunks of onion in quick, practiced motions. The air was filled with nothing but thunks of metal against wood. Finally, the result lay in dozens of neatly diced bits.
All tension left his shoulders, and he released his held breath. He placed the knife down as he scanned his work.
“I’m really getting better at this, huh?” Subaru said to himself.
He gave himself a mental pat on the back. That onion, amongst other vegetables, had been Subaru’s source of practice for the past two hours, and he had taken to it like a determined disciple. He grabbed a napkin, wiping off the accumulated sweat from his forehead.
Culinary practice itself wasn’t considered laborious; however, Subaru went above and beyond once he committed to something.
One week had passed since he was transported to this world, and Subaru had been diligently spending his time striving towards the peak of the chef’s discipline.
But not just any chef.
—The God of Cooking.
It was a title that even Subaru had failed to grasp the significance of at first. Natsuki Subaru, known for keeping his head buried in light novels and childish fantasies, expected an Excalibur. But what he had received was out of the scope of his expectation.
It had come in the form of a floating black box that only he could read. It provided him with a list of objectives to complete, and Subaru, a muddied boy coughing on the ground of an alleyway, leaned towards his first beacon of hope with desperation. Because if there was something he wasn’t doing, was dying alone near a pile of junk.
Shortly after, he was led to a restaurant that he was sure didn’t exist until an hour ago — introduced as both his home and his workplace. The rest had led to the most stressful week of his life.
The restaurant wasn’t just any restaurant. It had been provided by a metaphysical entity known as “The Gourmet System”. It provided him with tools, resources, objectives, and rewards. When he completed those objectives, he’d take one step closer towards the rank of The God of Cooking.
The exact circumstances for why Subaru had been chosen still remained as a complete mystery. As far as his cooking skill sat, he was average; the same case for the majority of his hobbies. He grew up in what was an ingredient household, which meant food had to be assembled rather than heated up. He had made his fair share of food, but his skill never breached anything farther than what a novice could do.
The Gourmet System knew this. On his first two days, Subaru was given the most intense introduction to culinary 101, and it was not for the faint of heart.
First, he had to know his environment.
The shop was simple in size. It was two floors and 1000 square feet of space. The front was adorned with beautiful lamps, glowing blue flowers that didn’t exist naturally but did, and four small tables with eight chairs born from expert craftsmanship. The upstairs was composed of a one-person living space with a bathroom, closet, and twin-bed. It was rather spartan, but Subaru could admit that the bed beat his old one by a mile.
—The main event was the kitchen.
It was completely alien to this world. There was no stone hearth or open fireplace; no savory meats twirling on iron spits could be seen; there wasn’t a visible chimney belching smoke into the sky. It was one-to-one with a commercial kitchen from the modern day.
Everything circled around the table-sized kitchen island he was currently working on.
There was an 8-burner stove setup with an oven that could fit a cow whole; a sink that could double as a bathtub; there was a dishwasher that could fit several sets of cutlery. In the back was the storage, right next to a walk-in freezer with options configurable from “light breeze” to “temporal stasis”.
It was a setup you’d only see in McMansions and Michelin-star restaurants.
Subaru straightened fully, 5 '8 of lean athleticism wrapped in not a tracksuit, but a black chef’s uniform that was perfectly suited for his frame. Subaru had worn it the first day, and had worn it ever since.
With a dexterous motion, the bits of onion were raked off the cutting board and into a large pile of other neatly cut vegetables. Potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, basils, and other assortments of vegetables were in a mixed heap.
Every vegetable had been painstakingly cut down to the millimeter. The Gourmet system had been adamant about this. Each vegetable had a minimum number of pieces that needed separation, and anything below that would instantly fail him.
It was obvious why Subaru had taken his time.
Suddenly, Subaru blinked as a jingle resonated. It was a soft bell that carried a lingering note. In front of him, a black holographic screen with gold accents appeared hovering at eye level.
⟡ CONGRATULATIONS! Knife Fundamentals: COMPLETE ⟡
Carrots: 50/50 ✓
Tomatoes: 50/50 ✓
Potatoes: 25/25 ✓
Lettuce: 25/25 ✓
Basil: 25/25 ✓
Onions: 25/25 ✓
⟡ NEW TECHNIQUE ACQUISITION ⟡
★ Knife Mastery (lvl 1)★
The chef’s cuts are now precise enough to be used in professional kitchens. Cut sizes are perfectly predictable through feeling alone. The chef’s preparation time has decreased by 30%. Not through speed, but through precision.
“It’s about time!” Subaru exclaimed, grinning as he gazed at the floating screen. For every objective completed, the system would bestow upon him a reward. During his first week, he had earned up to three rewards — each a permanent technique integrated into his physiology.
These techniques made sure all information learned was not only retained to muscle memory, but slowly refined towards its conceptual peak. Subaru was learning at a swift rate. Who knows where he’d be in a year.
“With all this quest stuff being like some videogame, failing seems impossible.”
Quite frankly, even a clueless shut-in could grasp it.
At first, Subaru was miffed at the implication, but he couldn’t ignore the truth. He had neglected school, wasting away in his room — a completely pathetic son that took advantage of his parent’s kindness. Now that he was in a new world, he vowed to himself that things would be different.
Somewhere, somehow — someone had deeply pitied him, and then had given him this power. He wouldn’t put it to waste.
He picked up the tray with cut vegetables, bringing it to the trash disposal. Anyone looking would admonish him for wasting food, but that wasn’t the case. The system provided him with resources through an interface called the Ingredietum Infinitum, a trans-dimensional delivery system that could instantly supply him with any ingredient he desired.
All disposed food would be broken down into negligible energy. There was nothing to concern himself with.
As for the trash disposal in question?
It was not a typical chute that would dump food to who knows where, but eight feet of metal that stood idly on its two feet in the corner, and had been doing so ever since he had arrived.
Its gait was anthrophomoric; sheets of white metal formed at each distinctive joint — seams crawling over plantigrade legs tipped with five-talon toes that could rend steel — outlining its barrel chest and tree-trunk thick arms, before ending at a head with a defined snout that no doubt hid a dangerous maw. Its two pairs of eyes, vacant, but hiding some raw intelligence, reflected the ceiling’s amber light and scattered it into several thin needle points of gold.
The silent sentinel existed as the store’s main security and trash disposal. It was a robotic creation one would find unnatural even on earth. Its likeliness was that of a polar bear standing on its two legs.
At first, Subaru found the thing extremely unsettling, but after spending several days alone with it, he realized that it made the best talking partner.
“Here you go — eat up.” The robot didn’t need to eat, but the thought counted.
For the first time today, it moved. Its hand, thick, clawed, capable of palming a head with ease, reached for its belly compartment, joints clicking as its mechanisms shifted. The seams became more defined as they split, opening up like petals to reveal a drawer-like compartment. Subaru dumped the vegetables inside, and the sentinel closed it, panels sliding back into place with an electrical hum.
There was silence, then:
TRASH HAS BEEN DISPOSED OF.
Its voice was deep. Sub-acoustics and bass rolled out in a wave that settled in chests and rattled pocket change. There was no organic waver; it was synthetic inevitability.
“Thanks, Tetsuo.”
Yes, he had named the thing. He couldn’t resist.
The sentinel bearing the name “Tetsuo”, responded by straightening its back and resting its hands at its sides. Subaru reached up and patted Tetsuo lightly on the shoulder before walking away.
Just like that. Another chime resounded in his ear.
⟡ CHEF FUNDAMENTALS COMPLETE ⟡
Kitchen Etiquette: ✓
Station Setup: ✓
Knife Fundamentals: ✓
Mise en place: ✓
⟡ CURRENT TECHNIQUES ⟡
Kitchen Instinct: ✓
Ingredient Appraisal: ✓
Knife Mastery: ✓
You have crossed a threshold on your journey to the title of The God of Cooking. Congratulations. Now you must cook your first dish using your newfound Cooking Essence.
“W-wait… my first dish… now?” Subaru said, slackjawed. He had gotten so used to the downtime that he didn’t realize that he would actually need to cook at some point.
With all the fundamentals engraved in him, it was finally time to put those skills to work. A tingle spread beneath his skin, and a fire had been lit inside his heart. Subaru straightened as his eyes focused.
⟡ Introduction to Cooking Essence⟡
Cooking Essence is a metaphysical energy source capable of bringing out the true energy in every dish. It will allow the chef to create food that transcends mortal boundaries. At higher levels, the chef can perform the acts of physical and spiritual healing, body amplification, and body and soul transcendence at higher levels. The chef will learn to infuse Cooking Essence into their first dish to apply: Flavor Amplification, Texture Optimization, Aromatic Persistence, and Satiety Enhancement.
⟡ Cooking Essence⟡
+100 EP
⟡NEW OBJECTIVE⟡
▸ Make your first bowl of Egg-Fried Rice. Collect the marked ingredients from the Ingredietum Infinitum.
Subaru looked at his new objective, and all the stress in his body parted all together. Egg-Fried Rice. Of course. It was a meal that anyone with a mild understanding of cooking knew how to make. Even his mom had made it several times in the past.
“Heh! This’ll be a piece of cake. Nothing the Natsuki talent couldn’t handle!”
The knowledge of his objective reinvigorated him. He pumped his fist in the air before scrolling through the system interface.
Like before, the Ingredietum Infinitum sourced and delivered an unlimited supply of all the foods that were currently provided to him. He scrolled through the vegetable section, right past the available ones and through a cascade of sections that were all blurred out with lock icons. The system, considering him a novice, would not allow him to look at any special ingredients he hadn’t earned.
Honestly, fair. But Subaru’s curiosity was killing him. There was a section titled “Mythic”, and his heart was pounding to one day see what lay on the other end.
One day.
He clicked the tab labeled “Recipes” with an exclamation mark next to it. The ingredients for the Egg-Fried Rice were neatly lined up within its description.
⟡ Recipes⟡
•Egg-Fried Rice.
•Rank: D.
•Ingredients: Cooked Rice (2 cups), Eggs 3x, Cooking Oil, Salt, White Pepper, Scallion, Soy Sauce.
•With your current EP amount, you are only capable of infusing 25 bowls of Egg-Fried Rice with Cooking Essence
Luckily, the system did him a favor and pre-cooked the rice so he could cook it today. Next time, he would have to prepare all the rice on his own.
After confirming, the system notified him that the ingredients had been supplied. From what was visible on the interface, the food he received wasn’t ordinary. It wasn’t made on any farm or processed in any factory you’d see on earth, and it wasn’t from this world either.
Those eggs? Sourced from cinderhens from the Wet Grain Terraces. That soy sauce? It was fermented with soybeans that grew on trees and glistened like obsidian under moonlight. It wasn’t just the ingredients that were of otherworldly origin, but every inch of this shop.
Subaru collected them from the back — placing every ingredient within the preparation area. Every component to the dish stood as a single unit, with nothing unaccounted for.
Today, he would cook like a true chef.
✦
He started with the scallion. Laying it on the cutting board, he readied his knife — thumb pinching the top of the handle as he cut into the green stalk with forward-presses; green and white cross-sections fell to the side in mechanical uniformity. The rhythmic tik-tik-tik filled the kitchen like a metronome.
His Ingredient Appraisal activated passively, feeding him the composition of the scallion in potent waves. There was the vegetal sweetness — tuned up thricefold due to its supernatural properties. It was beyond the idea of fresh.
He scraped the scallion rings into a pinch bowl and moved onto the eggs.
✦
Three cinderhen eggs, their shells were a pale cream with a faint speckling that sat warm against the ceramic. It was like a stone after sitting in the afternoon sun.
Subaru palmed one, assessed it, before cracking it on the bowl’s rim. It split cleanly. No uneven lines — a sharp split around its circumference that produced no loose pieces. Its yolk, the color of golden hour, plopped straight into the middle of the bowl. The white of the albumen held it in place, cupping it like a clam would a pearl.
He cracked the second. The third. Three yolks sat in the middle like three suns.
The fork came in next with deep, deliberate strokes. Not frenzied, not lazy. If he was too slow, the whites and yolks wouldn’t incorporate. Too fast and he’d introduce too much air, producing foam that would finish in rubbery threads. The eggs settled into a single uniform liquid.
His Ingredient Appraisal captured the rich proteins, the fat content, and the viscosity — confirming its satisfactory consistency. It wanted to be cooked.
✦
The rice.
It was stored in a glass container within the refrigerator for quick access. Like the freezer walk-in, the refrigerator kept all stored food in stasis, or any adjustable time frame the chef wished. It did not age a second more than when it was placed in there.
It was already pre-prepared. The system would not let him use rice that wasn’t a day old. The grains had cooled and dried, each grain completely separate from its peers.
For good measure, he used his hands to manually break off large clumps individually. Each grain sat alone, slightly translucent to the eyes.
With that. Every ingredient was ready for the fire.
✦
The wok sat on the burner. Compared to the one from his home, this one was of much better quality. It had already been prepared — adequately seasoned and bearing a distinctive obsidian-shine.
“It’s been a while since I used one of these things. Don’t fail me now,” Subaru said to the wok. It did not respond.
He turned the heat to high, and his Kitchen Instinct flared. It focused on the stove, heat forming in his vision not as blue flame licking iron, but as intent. It was a deep pressure that climbed from the bottom of the wok and to its sides. He felt the heat through the iron shimmer and heat distortion that radiated. The air rippled like water.
The cooking oil was next. Two tablespoons of Ignis Seed oil poured into the wok’s center. It sizzled as amber pools crawled across the bottom.
His Kitchen Instinct flared again. The smoking point was approaching. The timeline was measured in seconds, not minutes. The wok was heating up faster than anything on earth, producing a distinctive scent. Warm, nutty, the backbone of char one would expect from anything burning.
Now.
Subaru poured the beaten egg into the wok. The sound had been immediate, a sharp TSSSS that filled the air. Moisture evacuated in a plum of steam that rose from the surface. The mixture bloomed. The outer edges set immediately, turning liquid gold to pale solid in a ring of curdled egg. The center bubbled, contained by the solidifying ring.
His instincts — not anything related to the system — told him to move.
The spatula went in. A single confident scrape went through the center of the cooking egg, breaking it into large curds. They each cooked in isolation, sizzling in a harmonious rhythm. When Subaru thought they had enough time setting, he dumped them into a bowl and let them cool. If he were to cook them too long, they’d cross from custard into rubber. He couldn’t have that.
✦
The wok had come back to temperature in mere moments. He put another splash of Ignis Seed oil, letting it run for a few seconds before he prepared the rice.
He dumped it in, aiming directly into the center.
The sound was different from the eggs. Deeper. Dozens of tiny crackles resounded — each grain cooking in its own small cut of the wok’s surface.
The smell started as pure starch, then notes of toastiness emerged. A nuttiness arrived next as the rice absorbed oil into its surface. The sugars browned, and its grain of rice started to lose its pure white color. The rice’s inherent quality amplified everything. The purity of the rice’s content meant the Maillard reaction produced cleaner, more defined flavor compounds. It was nothing typical rice could ever achieve.
There were no off-notes. No muddy complexity. Just toast, grain, and heat. Each scent was distinct, forming an aroma that seduced the nose.
Subaru’s mouth watered.
✦
Each prepared ingredient was placed back into the wok. The eggs were spread atop the rice’s surface, distributed to cover every inch. The soy sauce went next. His instincts told him to pour it from the edge. If he placed it in the center, it would burn too quickly. The edges were cool enough to serve as a nice entryway.
The Abyss Bean soy sauce traveled in thin dark threads, closing in on the rice on every side. The scent exploded. Not just salt, but a wave of umami so concentrated he could taste it. It was a mix of aged protein and fermented depth. One tablespoon was doing the work of three, mixing with the rice without overwhelming it.
Each grain picked up a faint amber tint — some darker, some lighter. The variation was the signature.
He’d finally gotten to the seasoning. A grounding of Loor Crystal Salt, Ghost Thorn pepper — and he made sure to put just a pinch — lightly seasoned over the surface. It delivered a sharp spike, a single bright note that brought the entire dish together.
The scallions went in last — the green adding a nice vibrant color that deeply emphasized the eggs and rice. Subaru had pulled the wok from the flame and given three distinct strokes — tumbling the mixture. They didn’t cook — couldn’t, but the warmth of the dish wilted the edges ever so slightly, releasing raw brightness without killing it. Its color told the viewer that the dish was alive. That’s all that mattered.
✦
Subaru plated it within a shallow bowl. Ceramic, one of the dozens of duplicates because a kitchen was anything but a place where there was a shortage of cutlery.
The rice settled naturally within the bowl’s curve; toasted grain, rich egg, deep umami, sharp pepper, bright scallion. The stark white bowl framed it like a painting.
For a moment, Subaru stared at it — entranced, with the distinctive feeling of “How did I do this?” making up his only thoughts.
⟡ CONGRATULATIONS ⟡
You have cooked your first bowl of Egg-Fried Rice. Now you must infuse it with your Cooking Essence.
Egg-Fried Rice costs 5 EP.
Subaru looked at the screen. With its cost of five EP, he estimated that he could make nineteen more bowls before hitting the limit. EP, at its current rate, regenerated at three per hour, and if he completed more objectives, there was a chance he’d earn even higher amounts.
Subaru looked at the bowl. Fresh steam wafted. His tongue had been completely submerged in his saliva.
But how do I infuse it with Cooking Essence?
The Gourmet System did not provide any details.
Think. It said it was some sort of energy source that only I could use, so do I just…
One hand hovered over the bowl. Subaru closed his eyes as he concentrated. He had no points of reference other than the numerous Anime and Manga he had consumed. When someone wanted to manifest their power, they focused inward. It was stupid, but stupidity had left the door when he had been transported to this world.
Subaru focused inward.
At first, there was nothing, but Subaru went deeper. He thought of his soul — his very life essence coursing through his veins. He imagined projecting that energy outward — through his arms and to the tips of his fingers.
Come on, come on.
Warmth.
Subaru’s eyes opened as he gazed down at the bowl. Manifesting at his fingertips was an amber light — soft motes of gold trickling down and hitting the rice’s surface like raindrops.
The rice reacted. Not instantly. A small ray of light encompassed the bowl, and then every grain individually. Subaru watched in real time as each grain became more defined — golden light deepening the already brownish amber hue of the rice. It spread to the soy sauce, the eggs, the scallion, and then the seasoning.
Each color popped against the white bowl, a faint glow emitting.
If the smell had been strong before, now it was overwhelming. Each ingredient emitted a distinct, yet tantalizing scent. Every component mixed together, forming an aroma that traveled through the nostrils and massaged the brain. It became impossible for Subaru to resist the longer he stood in the bowl’s presence.
Suddenly, Subaru felt a slight tug. The motes stopped trickling, and the energy that had been pouring sealed like a faucet.
“I guess that was considered three Essence Points, huh?” Subaru questioned, watching the palm of his hand transition from the color of mystical amber to the lively beige of human skin.
Enough. Time for the taste test.
Subaru grabbed a pair of chopsticks. He couldn’t stop himself from trembling. Natsuki Subaru, a hapless teenager transported to another world — standing alone in a kitchen — eating the first meal that he felt mattered.
He took a bite.
The rice gave first — each grain distinct on his tongue. It met his teeth, forming a meager, faint resistance before revealing a soft, chewy interior. Then the egg — silken curds that dissolved upon every inch of his tongue. It was rich and warm, carrying a savory depth that put standard eggs to shame. The soy sauce arrived third — a savory bass note beneath everything else, grounding the dish. The pepper sharpened the dish. The scallion made it breathe.
Underneath was something Subaru couldn’t name. It wasn’t a taste exactly, but a sense of rightness — that what he had made was complete.
He loved it.
Subaru took a bite. Another. Then another.
He ate the entire bowl standing up, devouring it with vigor. Before, Subaru didn’t possess any ingredients to cook his own food during the introductory phase. Fortunately, the system had provided him with a small amount of funds to get him through the first week, so Subaru had survived off market food. It wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t afraid to admit to never eating anything that wasn’t made in this kitchen ever again.
Nope. Definitely not.
A singular tear ran down his cheek.
He felt like a cook.
✦
The front door of the shop opened with a smooth swing. Subaru stepped out and into the dark alleyway.
What met him wasn’t a lively street with numerous walks of life, but a brick wall. It was utterly ordinary, among the many other sad-looking brick walls that never met the rays of a sun.
What type of RNG is this? If I’m going to open this place up at some point, wouldn’t it be wise to place it where people would see it!?
Subaru questioned The Gourmet System’s audacity. If any architect proposed to place a restaurant’s entrance in an unassuming alleyway, they’d be slapped and fired. Subaru wanted to slap whatever entity decided that his shop belonged in a dreary alleyway.
He looked to the side. At the end of the alleyway, the sun’s evening rays cut through the streets. There was no sight of anyone. These streets became empty at this time — when merchants and laborers dragged themselves home and never left. There was very little chance someone would stumble upon his shop.
It was unfortunate, and it was sure to hurt things in the long run, but he had been dealt his cards. He had no choice but to play them.
Nonetheless, Subaru had come out here for a specific reason.
He looked down. What was nestled comfortably on the cobblestone ground was a black dog. It was rather average in size, only coming up to halfway on his hip — however, Subaru had never seen it do anything other than sleep in front of his shop.
He didn’t know why it was here. It didn’t look like a stray, neither did it seem injured or frail. Every day, it would be found in that same spot, dozing off without a care in the world. It was quite the strange dog, but for some reason, Subaru could relate to it.
He felt an odd kinship. Like him, it had closed itself off from the rest of the world, doing the littlest needed to survive and nothing more.
Were you ostracized from everyone? Did you fail to meet someone’s expectations? Did you give up? Are you scared? Is that why you are here, and not with your other dog friends?
In his hands, Subaru carried a small bowl of Egg-Fried Rice. He had some left over, and decided that he’d best make company with the one presence he’d had in days.
The dog's nose twitched with the presence of the unfamiliar aroma. Its eyes opened, and its ears perked and head rose.
“Here you go, big guy. It’s the only thing I have. Do dogs even enjoy Egg-Fried Rice?”
The dog stuck out its tongue, and its tail wagged as Subaru placed the bowl on the ground. Immediately, its snout pierced the surface of the rice as it chowed down in earnest. There were deep snarls and clashing of teeth. It must’ve really been hungry.
“Guess you do. Enjoy that? There’s more where that came from!”
Subaru crouched, petting the dog with a smile as it continued eating.
“Hmmm. I don’t know what to call you. Canis, yes? How about it? Let’s be friends.”
Deciding the name “Canis”, he felt satisfied.
Subaru stood up, deciding he’d come back for the bowl later. He hummed a tune as he stepped back inside. He’d already had a batch of rice planned for tomorrow.
Yeah. He could get used to this.
✧ ⋆ ✦ ⋆ ✧
Soul Integrated.
One Factor Acknowledged.
Synthesizing Factor…
Requesting Factors…
✦✧✧✧✧✧✧