Later that day, after the spectacular meeting… At Jenna Lucas's restaurant… The restaurant of different delicacies within Logshuf and beyond.
A restaurant, formally referred to as… Janna's, it's a refined yet lively dining establishment known for its blend of quiet elegance and controlled chaos behind the scenes. From the outside, it presents itself with polished glass panels, warm amber lighting, and a steady flow of guests who come for both the cuisine and the atmosphere.
Inside, the bartender is one of the most noticeable presences. He works behind a long polished counter stacked with gleaming glasses, moving with practiced rhythm as he mixes juices, spirits, and signature house blends. He is quiet but observant, often catching conversations from across the room while polishing glassware or shaking drinks with precision. His role extends beyond drinks—he is often the informal listener to both staff frustrations and customer stories.
The side chef operates like the kitchen's backbone. Not the head chef, but essential in keeping everything stable, he manages preparation tasks, organizes ingredients, and ensures the timing of dishes stays flawless. He moves quickly between stations, calling out short confirmations to the kitchen staff and adjusting plates before they reach the pass. His hands are rarely still, always cutting, plating, or correcting small imperfections.
The waiters form the restaurant's visible rhythm. They glide between tables with trays balanced carefully, maintaining polite smiles even during rush hours. Each waiter has assigned sections, but they cooperate fluidly when the restaurant fills, stepping in for one another without hesitation. They are trained to anticipate needs before guests even signal.
In a quieter corner of the establishment, the secretaries manage the administrative core. They handle reservations, special requests, staff schedules, and financial logs. Though rarely seen by customers, they are essential in keeping the restaurant organized and ensuring Jenna Lucas's vision runs smoothly. Together, these roles create a coordinated system where service, precision, and hospitality merge into a seamless experience.
But they weren't running the restaurant at the time…
It sat in a rare moment of calm, far removed from the lively atmosphere it usually carried during business hours. The establishment itself was spacious and elegantly designed, its polished wooden floors reflecting the soft light pouring in through wide glass windows while neatly arranged dining tables stood untouched in perfect rows.
It was break hours.
Jenna Lucas and most of her staff sat together inside the restaurant. The waiters lingered around the dining area. Resting idly nearby, trying not to strain themselves during their break. The calm wouldn't last—soon enough, it would turn rough again.
The bartender wiped glasses while watching the television, occasionally pausing as he cleaned each one with slow, habitual motions. He was a sturdy, broad-built man with a trimmed white chin beard and brown curly hair. He wore a casual buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, while his eyes carried a strange pale whiteness beneath their dark, watchful gaze.
In the kitchen, a chef stepped out, drying his hands with a rag after finishing his mundane duties—tossing out the garbage, scrubbing down surfaces, and preparing the kitchen for the busy afternoon and evening rush when customers would soon fill the establishment. The chef was a man with a neatly trimmed goatee beard. His eyes were a striking blend of green and brown, sharp and observant, while a clean white chef's hat sat firmly atop his head. Apparently, it seemed he had also washed the dishes they used during their lunch break, the rag still in his hand was a proof to that.
Everyone's attention drifted toward the TV, including their boss, Jenna, who looked like she desperately needed a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
On screen, the broadcaster—A beautiful woman with blonde hair, bound neatly backward Her glassy black eyes lingered behind the reflection of her smart glasses, sharp and attentive, as she sat composed in the live broadcast station.
Chilla Michaelson, Herald of the Alestria Bureau— she was just finishing her segment on the upcoming International Hunters Games. An annual global competition held as the year drew to a close. The broadcast time read 12:35 PM, Friday 1st, November 2024.
Chilla's voice remained calm and steady as she concluded:
"On another note, news on the cadets that entered the Burst Realm has just reached us."
Jenna's attention sharpened instantly, hope flickering in her tired, dark-circled eyes.
Her employees carried silent prayers behind their eyes as they watched. When news of their disappearance first broke, Janna stayed at home for a week, crying her eyes out and drowning in thought. It was becoming tedious, as the staff had to handle everything in her absence, so they went to her house—more pleading than dragging her—and begged her to resume work.
For everything to run at its peak, they needed their chief chef to return… Master Chef Jenna. Aside from being their chief chef and boss, she was also the manager behind the restaurant's operations.
They all knew that if the situation had escalated into what they feared and silently prayed against, they might be looking at an indefinite vacation… one spent searching for new jobs.
The broadcaster continued.
"Well, the cadets have finally exited. Here are the names of those who made it out safely."
She glanced down at a sheet of paper handed to her off-camera, then began reading the list aloud.
Jenna's mind slowly settled as she heard…
"Greyson Lucas." Amidst the recitation of the listed names.
She exhaled sharply, her shoulders loosening as if a heavy stone had been lifted from her chest.
"Oh… Grey. My boy."
She looked at them—each of them smiling now. She gave a small, satisfied smile of her own, sniffing softly, her face still tinged red with emotion.
Her eyes grew slightly wet. Thank goodness…
The broadcast continued, Chilla's tone shifting as she moved on to those who hadn't survived.
Their names scrolled beneath the screen in a stark red ticker.
Silence settled over the room.
Afterward came updates on newly ranked hunters and notable achievements across Alestria and beyond. Then the channel switched to global news, moving away from the Alestria Daily Gazette.
One of the workers groaned immediately.
"Ah… Matthew, why'd you change it?"
The bartender added without looking up, "Yeah, man… you always do this."
A few of them slowly returned to their duties… relieved, their prayers had been answered by some unseen forces. Their gazes lingered… taking in momentary glances at the screen. Some lightly patted Jenna's shoulder, trying to ease the tension. She accepted it quietly.
Apart from the bartender, Jenna, and Matthew... the sous chef, there were no other adults present: The rest were youthful teenagers. The four waiters consisted of two girls and two boys, all well-presented in proper waiter attire. The girls wore feminine designs with skirts, while the boys wore pants and bow ties. One girl had good figure, with vanilla-colored hair streaked faintly with strawberry tones and bright yellow eyes. The other had black hair and blue irises.
Among the boys, one was tall with yellow hair streaked with faint black remnants of dye, his bangs falling loosely across his forehead. The other had neatly kept black hair, smoothly swept back like a butler's, giving him a composed appearance.
At the counter stood two girls dressed in official attire, both wearing glasses. One had short gray hair in a curly bob cut, black irises, and a long refined nose that subtly highlighted her beauty. The other had long black hair and deep dark red eyes, her presence quiet but striking.
The brief atmosphere of relaxation gradually faded, replaced by the quiet return of responsibility as everyone began preparing for the hours ahead. The temporary calm that had settled over Janna Lucas's restaurant... slowly gave way to movement once more.
The waiters were the first to rise from their seats, stretching lightly before making their way across the dining area. With practiced familiarity, they began adjusting chairs, wiping down tables that had already been cleaned earlier, and ensuring every piece of cutlery sat perfectly aligned beside spotless plates. Their earlier casual chatter slowly died down, replaced by focused expressions as work mode returned.
Behind the bar, the bartender placed the last glass he had been polishing onto the shelf before immediately organizing bottles across the polished counter. Ice buckets were refilled, fresh fruit was brought out for juices, and the ingredients for the restaurant's signature drinks were arranged neatly within arm's reach. He poured himself a drink as well… after all, greatness is forged only by greatness… Finishing that, he began cleaning the glass at a swift pace. His movements were smooth and methodical, almost mechanical after years of repetition.
From the kitchen entrance, the side chef rolled his shoulders after his brief rest before stepping back into familiar territory. "Matthew… off.' He signed himself off, treating it like one of his familiar jests."
He began sorting ingredients prepared earlier, checking storage compartments, sharpening knives, and arranging utensils while mentally preparing for the afternoon workload soon to come. The quiet kitchen once again slowly came alive under his presence.
Near the administrative corner, the secretaries stacked away unfinished paperwork… accounts and then turning their attention toward incoming reservations and schedule confirmations for the remainder of the day.
At the center of it all, Jenna Lucas observed the familiar scene unfolding before her, watching as her restaurant gradually awakened once again, before she turned her gaze back at the TV. 'Good.' She smiled softly.
Break time was over.
Soon enough, the rush would begin.
Jenna sat alone in the dining hall, the others gone, her eyes locked on the TV screen… In truth, she didn't need this weight on her heart.
But she still felt for the cadets who didn't make it—and for the families who had waited in uncertainty all this time.
And yet… in reality, the simple understanding in deeper thoughts was that… would their families actually care. Soon those names would disappear… definitely not as fast as commoners but it would soon become laughs in the background.
Most nobles didn't truly care for their children.
They sent the ones they deemed useless into the Alestria general gate despite having their own personal ones—just to preserve pride, reputation, and status.
A quiet reflection of exactly what Ziyon had spoken about.
Stupid pride disguised as nobility.
A / N: Thanks for reading if you like my book please leave a review... while doing that you can motivate me with a power stone.