Chapter 104: Sailing Against the Current, No Progress Means Retreat, 1st Joins the Game
There are several foods in this world that possess the magical ability to induce pure, unadulterated happiness.
A glass of ice-cold beer after a hard day's labor. A fizzy soda with ice cubes clinking against the glass on a sweltering summer afternoon. A bowl of freshly washed, sweet and sour cherries. A bubbling hotpot shared with friends in winter.
And, of course, fried foods.
Fat, salt, and crunch. It is a primal trifecta that bypasses logic and hits the pleasure centers of the brain directly.
At this moment, Kojiro Shinomiya was a victim of this magic.
The "Magician of Legumes," known for his stoicism and strict dietary discipline, was eating the Confit de Canard with an intensity that bordered on gluttony.
Crunch. Chew. Swallow.
He ate bite after bite, completely unable to stop. He was like those people online who constantly talk about dieting, swearing that this is the last bite, the last cheat meal, only to find their fork moving of its own volition.
The duck skin shattered like glass. The meat melted like butter. The roasted potatoes, soaked in duck fat, were crispy on the outside and fluffy clouds on the inside.
It was perfect.
Finally, Shinomiya cleared his plate. He sat back in his chair, letting out a contented sigh. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression softening from its usual arrogance.
"I didn't expect you to be Totsuki's former First Seat," Ren remarked from behind the counter, polishing a glass. "It seems Shop Ren really has a deep, inescapable connection with Totsuki Academy. First Erina, then Rindou, now you."
Shinomiya chuckled, a low, rusty sound.
"Rather than saying that, it's more like Totsuki has a connection with you," he corrected. "Your name is whispered in the corridors like a ghost story or a legend."
He leaned forward, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"But I came here tonight not just to eat. There's something I want to know. Something that has been bothering me since Dojima mentioned you."
"What is it?"
"Why is such a strong chef like you hiding in such a secluded small shop?"
Shinomiya gestured to the empty street outside.
"With your skill, you could be a head chef in Paris. You could have three Michelin stars. You could be ruling the culinary world. Yet, you are here, serving late-night snacks to strays and insomniacs."
Ren sighed helplessly. He placed the polished glass on the shelf.
"You all ask me this question. Erina asked. Rindou asked. Now you."
Ren leaned on the counter, looking at his two customers—a traumatized middle school girl and a burnt-out celebrity chef.
"My interest is in cooking and listening to my customers' stories," Ren said softly. "Fame is noisy. Stars are heavy. If I left this place to chase accolades, I would miss a lot of interesting customers. Such as Miss Gasai Yuno here~ and Mr. Kojiro Shinomiya."
Gasai Yuno looked up from her empty soup bowl. A hint of genuine joy sparked in her dull pink eyes.
"If it weren't like this," she nodded softly, clutching her water glass, "I wouldn't have been able to come to Shopkeeper Ren's place... Just call me Yuno! Please!"
"Alright, Yuno," Ren smiled.
He turned back to the chef. "Then, Mr. Shinomiya, your initial purpose and question weren't just about my career choices, were they? What was the real reason you couldn't sleep tonight?"
Kojiro Shinomiya froze.
He looked at the clean duck bone on his plate. He wiped his mouth again, stalling.
Finally, he revealed a wry, self-deprecating smile.
"At first, I just wanted to see how amazing the person those two praised so highly was. I wanted to prove them wrong. I wanted to find a flaw."
He looked up at Ren.
"Now it seems I thought too simply. Or perhaps I should say... I overestimated myself. Your Confit was better than mine. Simpler, yet deeper."
Ren thought for a moment. He walked around the counter and stood near Shinomiya's table.
"I see... Then I understand your thoughts, Mr. Shinomiya. You feel stagnant."
"Stagnant?" Shinomiya scoffed, though it lacked heat. "I won the Pluspol award. I am at the top."
"Have you ever heard a Chinese saying?" Ren asked.
"What?"
"Sailing against the current, no progress means retreat (Nì shuǐ xíng zhōu, bù jìn zé tuì)."
Ren's voice was calm but piercing.
"It means when you're rowing a boat upstream against a strong current, you cannot simply 'hold your position.' If you stop paddling forward with all your might, the current will push you backward. Standing still is effectively moving backward."
Kojiro Shinomiya was stunned.
The words hit him like a physical blow.
He sat in silence for a long time. The wind chimes tinkled softly in the background.
"No progress... means retreat..." he whispered.
"Mr. Shinomiya," Ren asked gently. "How long have you been treading water? How long have you been cooking to defend your title, rather than cooking to explore new horizons?"
Shinomiya's heart trembled.
He thought of his kitchen in Paris. The rigid menus. The fear of changing anything. The terror of losing his stars. He hadn't created a truly new dish with passion in years. He was just refining the old ones to perfection.
He nodded with a wry smile.
"You're right," Shinomiya admitted. "I've been terrified of moving forward because I was afraid of falling back. But by standing still... I've already fallen behind."
He looked at Ren with new respect. Ren's skill—and his philosophy—was more than enough to be his teacher. He had nothing to be arrogant about here.
Just then, Ren turned and walked towards the kitchen.
"Since we've cleared the air," Ren called out, "it's time for the finale."
When he reappeared, he held two plates.
He placed a Napoleon Cake (Mille-Feuille) in front of Shinomiya. The layers of puff pastry were golden and flaky, sandwiching rich vanilla pastry cream.
Then, he walked over to Yuno.
He placed a beautiful slice of cake in front of her. It was pink and white, delicate and inviting.
"Try this," Ren said with a smile. "Double Berry Cake. You should quite like it."
Gasai Yuno looked at the cake. Her eyes widened.
"It looks... cute," she whispered. "What is this made of?"
"Strawberries and cranberries, with a little bit of blueberries added in for depth," Ren explained. "Because there's only a little blueberry, it's called Double Berry Cake. The tartness cuts the sweetness. Girls usually like these kinds of flavors, right? Please enjoy."
Yuno nodded eagerly.
She took a forkful.
The sponge was airy. The cream was dense and fragrant. The jam provided a sharp, sweet-sour kick that made her salivary glands tingle.
It tasted like spring.
Across the room, Kojiro Shinomiya took a bite of his Mille-Feuille.
Crack.
The pastry shattered perfectly. The cream was smooth, speckled with real vanilla bean seeds.
He sighed, closing his eyes.
"You really are amazing..." Shinomiya murmured. "Even your pastry skills are top-tier."
"Mr. Shinomiya," Ren said, leaning against the counter. "You can do it too. As long as you don't stay in place anymore. As long as you start paddling again."
Kojiro Shinomiya said nothing more.
He drank the dry white wine Ren had brought earlier. The crisp acidity of the wine cut through the richness of the pastry cream.
It felt as if Napoleon himself was leading his troops into battle on his tongue, conquering his taste buds with strategy and power.
Finally, the plate was clean.
"A perfectly wonderful dinner," Shinomiya announced, standing up and putting on his trench coat. "If I weren't rushing to the airport for an early flight, I really should have a good chat with you until dawn. But alas."
He pulled out his wallet.
"So, how much is it? Don't give me a discount."
"Fifteen hundred yen."
"What?!" Shinomiya froze, his wallet halfway open. "So cheap?! That barely covers the duck leg!"
He shook his head, laughing softly. "Never mind... I'm not surprised anymore. You really are an oddity."
Shinomiya placed a large bill on the counter—significantly more than requested—and walked to the door.
"Keep the change. Consider it a consultation fee."
He stepped out.
Feeling the slightly cool night breeze on his face, Shinomiya took a deep breath. The warmth of the restaurant slowly dissipated from his skin, but the warmth in his stomach remained.
He looked back at the small shop.
From the outside, it was just a wooden door with a noren curtain. Ordinary. Unassuming.
Yet, it possessed a magical allure.
The street was dark, while the neighboring main street was brightly lit with neon signs. It was as if they were separated by an insurmountable wall of atmosphere.
Shinomiya looked at the only warm yellow light on this quiet street.
"Indeed," he chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "This is where it's most suitable. A hidden gem for those who need to find it."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the dark alley. He felt lighter than he had in years. He was ready to go back to Paris and start rowing again.
Inside the shop, Ren wiped the tables.
"Hmm~ I really do have an ill-fated connection with Totsuki," Ren mused. "They keep finding me."
"Shopkeeper Ren..."
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
Ren turned. Yuno was standing up, clutching her school bag.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Ren," he replied. "Just Ren. Is there something else?"
Gasai Yuno hesitated for a moment. She looked down at her shoes, then back up at him through her lashes.
"Um... Shopkeeper Ren. I heard that gentleman just now say... there's no limit on the number?"
Ren blinked. He recalled his conversation with Shinomiya about girls.
"Ah," Ren nodded, scratching his head. "Yes, well... technically there isn't a legal limit in that regard in this world's setting. It's a bit complicated."
He smiled. "What's wrong? Ah, your world probably has stricter rules about that."
Gasai Yuno didn't respond.
A strange light flickered in her eyes.
No limit...
She suddenly walked to the counter. "I want to pay."
Ren looked at her. "It's on the house, Yuno. I told you."
"No. I want to be a customer. A regular customer."
She placed a five hundred yen coin on the counter. It was old and tarnished, likely found in her pocket from before everything went wrong.
Ren looked at the coin, then at her determination. He nodded.
"Alright. Thank you for your patronage."
Yuno smiled.
"Shopkeeper Ren, can I come again?"
"Of course. The method is the same as how you came here just now. The door will appear when you need it."
Ren leaned forward slightly.
"I hope that when I see you next time, you'll be someone who has found a new cup. Someone who has buried the past."
Gasai Yuno smiled wider. It was a radiant smile.
"I will," she promised.
She turned and walked to the door.
She pulled it open. Instead of the dark Tokyo street Shinomiya had walked into, a swirling vortex of soft white light awaited her.
She stepped into the light.
Just before she vanished, she turned her head back.
"Goodbye, Shopkeeper Ren."
She smiled at him one last time.
It looked very cute. Very innocent.
But Ren felt a sudden, sharp spike of unease run down his spine.
Chill.
The door closed. Yuno disappeared.
Ren stood alone in the empty shop.
He sighed, looking at the space where she had been standing.
"Why do I feel like something is targeting me..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "That smile... it felt possessive."
He shook his head. "Never mind. I'm just overthinking it. She's just a kid who needed a meal."
[Another World - Sakurami City]
Gasai Yuno stepped out of the light and back into her reality.
She stood in the hallway of her large, silent house.
The air was stale. The faint, sickly sweet smell of decay drifted from the room at the end of the hall—the room with the cage.
But this time, there was no confusion in Yuno's eyes. No fear. No trembling.
She walked past the cage room without glancing at it.
I will bury them, she thought calmly. Tomorrow. In the garden.
She walked into her bedroom. It was messy, filled with notes and diaries.
She sat on her bed, clutching her blue flip-phone.
"CEO... President... Rindou..." she murmured the titles she had heard.
"If there is no limit... then I just need to be the best."
She opened her phone. Her "Yukiteru Diary" (Future Diary) flashed.
But she wasn't looking at the entries about Amano Yukiteru anymore. She was looking at a new note she had made.
[Ren Diary]
Slowly, the adrenaline faded, and Yuno felt the heavy weight of sleep pulling at her eyelids. The Samgyetang had done its work; she was warm and full.
She curled up on the bed, hugging her phone to her chest.
However, as she drifted off, the screen of her phone lit up in the darkness.
A text message appeared from Deus Ex Machina, the God of Time and Space.
[1st joins the game...]
[2nd joins the game...]
[Survival Game: START]
Yuno slept on, dreaming of a silver-haired chef and a warm restaurant, unaware that the battle for godhood had just begun.
[Akarin Note:
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