Chapter 198: Do What You Want to Do, Live the Way You Want to Live
As the night deepened and the city lights outside Ren's restaurant began to flicker like distant stars, the wine brewed by the Shopkeeper finally began to exert its true power.
Ren's wine was deceptively smooth, carrying a fragrance that seemed to bloom in the glass, but as Senzaemon Nakiri had warned, it possessed a formidable kick that only revealed itself once the bottle was empty.
At this moment, the three giants of the culinary world—Senzaemon, Joichiro, and Gin—all showed visible signs of tipsiness, their faces flushed with a warm glow.
Being slightly tipsy was the ideal state for men of their standing; it was a delicate balance where the world felt soft and the tongue grew loose, but the mind remained anchored.
Some people claimed they drank to drown their sorrows, yet the reality was often harsher when they woke up the next morning.
But a little tipsy, followed by an early sleep in a place as peaceful as this, was a luxury that money rarely bought in the cutthroat world of high-end gastronomy.
During this time, Ren had unknowingly become a public enemy of men everywhere, lounging in the cozy theater area of the restaurant surrounded by six breathtaking beauties.
He spent most of the movie answering strange, rapid-fire questions from Courage and the others, his patience seemingly as infinite as his culinary skill.
When the last drop of the fragrant wine was swallowed, Gin Dojima let out a long, satisfied sigh that seemed to release years of corporate stress.
"Hoo... that was truly refreshing," Gin murmured, leaning back as his eyes glazed over slightly. "Not bad at all... Joichiro, you've still got that fire in you."
Joichiro Yukihira smiled, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture that carried his usual wandering-chef charm.
Senzaemon Nakiri let out a deep, boisterous chuckle, the sound vibrating through the wooden table.
"Hahaha! Still got it? I'm still standing here!" the old man declared, his voice thick with pride and alcohol. "If anyone here still has their edge, it's me!"
"Boo!"
The exclamation rang out in perfect, playful unison from Joichiro and Gin.
"You two rascals!" Senzaemon barked, though his eyes were crinkled with genuine affection.
Joichiro Yukihira's smile softened as he surveyed the restaurant, taking in the clean lines, the warm lighting, and the scent of wood and spices.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to savor the tranquility of a place that felt more like a home than any mansion he had visited.
"If I leave this time," Joichiro whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner, "I don't know when our paths will cross again."
Gin Dojima rubbed his temples, a tired but happy smile on his face. "So, the next time we meet, will it finally be the day you decide to settle down for good?"
Joichiro nodded slowly, the thought of his small diner back home flickering through his mind.
Senzaemon Nakiri smiled at his former student. "Your son, Soma, is truly a spitting image of you, but he's far more interesting to watch."
"Once you finally hang up the traveler's cloak, I expect a new wandering chef will take your place soon enough, right?"
Joichiro Yukihira chuckled. "Before that happens, let's take care of the road beneath our feet. This generation of wandering chefs hasn't finished their journey just yet."
[Akarin's Note: Joichiro is known as the "Wandering Chef" because he travels the world, cooking in the most unexpected places rather than staying in a fixed restaurant.]
Despite their high alcohol tolerance, the three men were well aware of their responsibilities and the weight of their names.
None of them had any intention of overindulging; good wine was a gift to be respected, not a tool for self-destruction.
Meanwhile, Mana Nakiri had finally finished reviewing the stack of WGO documents that had been her constant companion.
She sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the empty ceramic plate and the small bowl that held only the remnants of chili oil and a few droplets of broth.
She looked as though she were lost in a profound trance, her mind replaying the symphony of flavors she had just experienced.
Senzaemon Nakiri broke the silence, his voice regaining its authority. "Ren-kun! The bill, if you please."
Ren, who was currently being grilled with bizarre questions about his personal life by Lanterby and Decora, turned his head toward the dining table.
Mana Nakiri's head snapped up, her eyes wide with anticipation as she watched Ren approach.
She began to brainstorm frantically, her mind racing through the prices of Michelin-starred establishments and elite private clubs.
A dish that could cure the God Tongue, a porridge that felt like a warm embrace from a mother she never knew—how much could that possibly cost?
Ren seemed to read the panic in Mana's eyes, offering a calm, reassuring smile.
"It looks like Mana-sama is trying to calculate the damage to her wallet," Ren noted, his eyes drifting to the WGO staff. "Courage-san, why don't you help her out?"
Courage puffed out her cheeks, looking slightly displeased at the formal address.
"Ren-san! I've told you so many times!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just call me Courage! Drop the 'Miss'!"
Ren nodded, his smile widening. "Then, for everyone here, why don't you take a guess at the total for this meal?"
"And Mana-sama, do you remember that magic trick I mentioned earlier?"
Mana was stunned, her gaze dropping back to the clean plate in front of her.
She felt like a student being tested by a master, her heart fluttering with expectation as she nodded.
"Here's a hint," Ren said, his voice dropping into a playful tone. "That magic trick is worth exactly 400 Yen. Now, everyone, place your bets."
Mana hesitated, her internal calculator flashing numbers that would make a commoner faint.
"A meal of this caliber... the soul-healing properties alone... a million Yen?" Mana ventured, her voice small.
Ren couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Mana-sama, you are indeed as wealthy as the rumors say," Ren teased.
He turned to the rest of the WGO officers. "What about the rest of you?"
"Five hundred thousand Yen?" Lanterby guessed, her eyes gleaming.
"I think it should be at least a hundred thousand," Anne whispered, looking unsure.
"Anne! Are you crazy?" Decora shouted, nearly jumping out of her seat.
"It should be at least two hundred thousand! This level of craftsmanship isn't measured by the rarity of ingredients! Did we teach you nothing about the value of a chef's soul?"
Cerberus watched the exchange with a stunned expression, her head tilting to the side.
Could a single bill in this restaurant actually exceed ten thousand Yen? It seemed like an impossible fortune to her.
Lucifer, standing nearby, shared the same thought, her eyes wide as she looked at the "expensive" humans.
Joichiro Yukihira let out a lazy chuckle, watching the young women scramble for an answer.
"You're all still too young," the wandering chef said. "The Director and I told you from the start that this place is special."
"Do you remember the guest who was eating the dry pot dish earlier? Based on that, I'd guess... around fifteen thousand Yen."
"Fifteen thousand?!"
The exclamation rang out from all six women in a shocked, disbelieving chorus.
Mana Nakiri looked at Joichiro as if he had lost his mind; to her, that price was an insult to the art she had just consumed.
Ren smiled, shaking his head. "Old man, even though you didn't say it out loud, it seems your experience gave you the closest lead."
"I regret to inform the ladies that the winner of this little game is the wandering chef."
Senzaemon Nakiri slapped the table, his laughter booming through the room.
"I knew you'd be in that range! Hahahaha!"
The WGO officers looked at the Director in utter confusion, their brains struggling to process the disparity in value.
Senzaemon grinned. "If I had to put a number on it, I'd say this kid would charge about six thousand Yen for this spread. Seven thousand at the absolute most!"
"Six thousand?!"
The shout was even louder this time, a collective gasp of disbelief.
Ren nodded, his expression serene. "A total of six thousand five hundred Yen. Senzaemon-dono, you've truly spent too much time eating here."
"Hahahaha! I've eaten here so often that I'm terrified to go anywhere else!" the Director roared.
"I'm afraid I'll walk into a high-end bistro, throw ten thousand Yen on the table for some rare truffles, and feel like I'm being robbed!"
"Eh? If you did that, the staff would probably hold you back for being too cheap elsewhere," Ren joked.
"Hahahaha!"
Mana Nakiri and her staff were completely dumbfounded, staring at Ren as if he were a ghost.
Gin Dojima suddenly went quiet, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he wondered if the Totsuki Resort was overcharging its guests by a few zeros.
Mana watched Ren accept the money with a numb expression, her mind finally rebooting.
"Ren! Wait!" she shouted, her voice cracking slightly as she stood up.
"Are you absolutely sure it's only six thousand five hundred? What about the Meiling Porridge?"
"That porridge... it cured my God Tongue. It restored my life! You didn't include that in the bill, did you?!"
Ren turned back, his gaze calm. "It was included. Seven hundred Yen."
"Seven... seven hundred..." Mana whispered, her knees feeling weak.
"To put it simply," Ren explained, his voice patient, "Meiling Porridge is just a pot of congee."
[Akarin's Note: Meiling Porridge is a famous Nanjing specialty made with soy milk, lily bulbs, and yams, known for its skin-beautifying and soothing properties.]
"It's made from glutinous rice, soy milk, japonica rice, goji berries, yam, and lily," Ren continued.
"Even with the coconut milk cubes I added for texture, that's what the ingredients cost. How expensive did you want it to be?"
"The most expensive items on your table were actually the bottles of wine these three rascals finished."
Mana Nakiri stared at Ren, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Logically, what he said made perfect sense, but her world of elite gastronomy was being torn down and rebuilt in a single conversation.
Ren ignored the stunned silence of the WGO group and turned his attention back to Senzaemon.
"The night is getting late. You all should be heading out. You brought a driver, right?"
Senzaemon Nakiri nodded, his tipsiness replaced by a sudden, somber gravity.
As Mana prepared to follow him out like a lost child, she felt her father's hand on the doorframe.
"Mana," Senzaemon said, his voice deep and echoing in the quiet street.
"You haven't fully sorted through everything in your heart yet, and you have that flight tomorrow."
"There is no need for you to rush back to the mansion tonight."
"Eh? But Father..." Mana started, her voice trembling.
Senzaemon looked at Ren. "Ren-kun, if I recall correctly..."
"I understand," Ren interrupted, nodding. "Mana-sama, Courage-san... all of you are welcome to stay here tonight."
"There are more than enough guest rooms prepared upstairs."
Mana looked at the floor, her hands twisting in her skirt. "Eh?! That would be far too much trouble for Ren-san!"
"We can just take the earliest flight from the airport lounge..."
Ren shook his head firmly. "Firstly, the rooms upstairs were designed specifically for guests who need a place to rest."
"Secondly, you've just traveled across the globe and experienced a massive physical shock to your system. You need rest, Mana-sama."
Mana looked up into Ren's eyes and felt a strange, fluttering nervousness that she couldn't explain.
She finally nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I understand. Thank you."
Senzaemon Nakiri watched this scene unfold, a long, weary sigh escaping his lips.
He gave a few final instructions to Gin and Joichiro, his eyes closed as if he were savoring a final moment of peace.
As he turned to leave, Mana took a step toward him, wanting to see him off to the car.
But Senzaemon didn't turn around. He merely propped open the heavy glass door, the cool night air rushing into the warm restaurant.
"Mana," he said, his back still turned to her.
"You are well now. The chains are broken."
"So... go. Go do what you have always wanted to do. Live the life you were meant to live."
"Do not worry about the Academy, the family, or the past. Strive to live for yourself."
"You are Mana Nakiri, a woman with her own heart, not just a tool for the God Tongue."
The door clicked shut behind him, the sound sharp and final in the silent street.
Mana Nakiri stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway where her father had just stood.
The dam finally broke.
The elegant, untouchable Special Executive Officer of the WGO collapsed onto a chair, crying in a manner that was utterly ungraceful.
She sobbed with her head in her hands, her shoulders heaving with the weight of a decade's worth of repressed tears.
No one knew the full depth of the secret she had carried, the reason she had fled her home all those years ago.
But in that moment, seeing her father walk away, she realized the distance between them was no longer a vast ocean.
It was the shortest and longest journey she had ever taken.
As the saying goes, some goodbyes are meant to be final, but the best goodbyes are the ones where you don't look back—because you know you'll meet again on better terms.
[Akarin Note:
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