In order to complete the tasks assigned by Makarov, Caesar worked nonstop for a week before finally announcing a complete strike.
There was no other way. Caesar was used to simple and straightforward guild missions.
He was tired of the troublesome, time-consuming jobs that Makarov gave him.
Investigations, errands, collecting evidence, and endless paperwork.
After all, these were Council missions, which required evidence chains and proper judgment instead of brute force.
If it had been a guild commission, Caesar wouldn't have gone through all that trouble.
He could have used intimidation, hypnosis, illusions, or even brute strength—whatever got the job done.
When Caesar went to Makarov and announced his strike, Makarov sighed, patting his shoulder.
"As a guild leader, you still have a lot to learn," he said meaningfully.
"Don't talk nonsense. I'll get you a man. Just tell me if you can do it," Caesar said bluntly.
"…Fine," Makarov replied. There were too few people left to argue.
Seeing Makarov's quick change of attitude, Caesar stayed silent for a moment.
Then he took Kakarot and teleported straight to a restaurant called 8Island.
It was run by former Council member Yajima.
When it came to finding reliable people, no one fit better than Yajima.
He understood the Council's system and knew its secrets.
Aside from lacking strength, Yajima was exactly the kind of person Makarov needed right now.
He was also a veteran Fairy Tail member—loyal and trustworthy.
Although he was retired, he could easily return and assist. He didn't even need to do much, just offer advice and organization.
This would help Makarov tremendously.
So, Caesar decided he must recruit Yajima.
He straightened his clothes, determination flashing in his eyes.
Then he burst into the restaurant.
"Master Yajima, help me!" Caesar cried dramatically.
Hearing the voice, Yajima came out of the kitchen holding a frying pan.
He looked at Caesar, who seemed on the verge of tears, and raised an eyebrow.
"Little Caesar, what happened? Why are you here?"
They had a good relationship. Among Fairy Tail's many troublemakers, Caesar was one of the most well-behaved.
Seeing Yajima, Caesar grinned and quickly explained everything about Makarov's request.
Yajima sighed, asking the confused diners to leave before turning to Caesar.
"So, you want me, an old retired man, to go back and help Makarov?" Yajima said helplessly.
Caesar knew Yajima was sharp and could see right through his intentions.
He scratched his head with a sheepish smile and said nothing.
Yajima sighed again. "Caesar, I don't want to get involved with that anymore. Running this place peacefully makes me happy. The business is good, and I can support myself. So—"
"You're not a good cook," Caesar interrupted bluntly.
Yajima froze, then his blood pressure spiked.
"You dare insult my cooking?! Come on, if you can't prove it, you're not leaving here today!"
Caesar smiled. "I can't say it—but I can show you. Let's make a bet. If I win, you help Master Makarov."
"…Good. Wait right here," Yajima said, his pride fully ignited.
He might not match Caesar in strength, but in cooking? That was his domain.
Confident, he pointed at Caesar. "If your dish doesn't impress me, you'll be washing dishes here for three months!"
"Fine! But if you lose, you help Makarov. You can still come back when you have free time."
"A gentleman's word!"
"Deal!"
The bet was set. Caesar's grin widened.
It was time to show Yajima true despair.
He activated Take Over Magic and summoned the skills of the greatest chefs: Sanji, Komatsu, Granny Setsuno, Soma Yukihira, Erina Nakiri, and Liu Angxing.
The six masters' techniques filled his mind.
Together, they stepped into the kitchen.
Looking around at the shelves full of ingredients, Caesar instantly decided on his dish.
"You can use whatever you want," Yajima said proudly, "as long as you can—"
Before he finished, Caesar had already gathered his ingredients.
He placed them neatly on the table, pulled out a kitchen knife, and ran his fingers along the blade.
"Good knife," Caesar said.
"Of course. I've used that knife for nearly ten years—"
"Too bad it's full of gaps," Caesar interrupted.
Yajima's confidence cracked.
This knife was sharp enough to cut hair mid-air!
Before he could reply, Caesar pulled out a whetstone and sharpened the blade twice at lightning speed.
Then he began chopping.
Under Caesar's knife, ingredients danced through the air. His precision left Yajima speechless.
"What kind of Take Over spirit did this kid use?!" Yajima thought.
Suddenly, fire roared from the stove.
The flames were so strong that Yajima's jaw dropped.
Caesar didn't use magic to control the temperature. He was controlling the fire directly—by feel.
It was raw, terrifying skill.
Before Yajima could even react, Caesar plated the food and covered it with a lid.
"Twice-cooked pork. Try it," Caesar said.
Yajima hesitated. Why cover it? To trap the heat?
He lifted the lid—and a blinding golden light burst out.
"Did you put a flash bomb in there?!" Yajima muttered, stunned.
He picked up a paper-thin slice with his chopsticks and took a bite.
The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes widened.
The next second, his clothes practically flew off, and tears streamed down his face as he devoured the dish like a madman.
Watching him eat, Caesar canceled his Take Over form and smiled.
"It's done," he said softly.