The harbor of Culinaria was a masterpiece of white stone and salt, a massive crescent moon that held back the deep blue of the ocean. While the rest of the island was vibrating with the energy of the festival, the docks were relatively quiet. The air here didn't smell like the open sea; it smelled like a massive, outdoor kitchen. Garlic, roasting meats, and sweet spices drifted on the breeze, making the stomach of anyone within five miles roar with hunger.
At the pier, the crew's ship sat silently. It was a magnificent vessel, its hull reinforced with rare Ironwood. On the main deck, leaning against the central mast, Kojo was exactly where the others had left him. He sat in a cross-legged position, his breathing slow and rhythmic. His hair hung slightly over his face, his eyes closed in deep meditation. His three swords rested across his lap, their weight familiar and grounding. He looked like a statue, completely still, lost in a warrior's sleep.
Back at the ship, Kojo continued to sleep, completely unaware that several pairs of eyes were watching thier ship plotting something evil.
Hidden behind a stack of weathered shipping crates, a group of local pirates had been tracking the ship since it docked. They had watched Ato and Lemon leave, and now, they saw only the "sleeping" boy. They didn't know who he was, and they didn't care. All they saw was a ship that looked expensive enough to buy them a lifetime of rum and luxury.
The pirates crept onto the deck, their boots clicking softly on the polished wood. They moved in a semi-circle, drawing their jagged, rusted sabers. One of them looked closely he was clearly asleep and he signed to attack. They were confident—too confident. They thought a sleeping boy would be an easy mark.
All of them attacked at once and all of their swords stops.
Kojo didn't even draw his steel. In a blur of movement that defied the human eye, he had tilted his scabbards upward. The pirate blades hit the reinforced wood and steel hilts of his sheaths with a loud, metallic clang, unable to move an inch further. Kojo opened his eyes, and the air around him seemed to turn ice-cold. There was no grogginess in his gaze; only a sharp, predatory focus.
Kojo: "Attacking a sleep person. Huh."
He didn't give them a second to recover from the shock. He pushed all of them back with a sudden, violent surge of his arms. The strength behind the move was immense, sent a vibration through the pirates' own blades that nearly dislocated their shoulders. They stumbled back, falling over each other in a tangle of limbs and steel.
Kojo stood up slowly, the wood of the deck creaking under his boots. He didn't need to draw his blades to deal with this level of trash. He moved like a ghost, appearing in front of the pirates before they could even scream. He started throwing everyone out of the ship, literally tossing the pirates over the railing into the harbor one by one.
Kojo: "Weaklings."
He grabbed the last pirate by the collar, a man who was shaking so hard he couldn't even hold his sword. He throwed the last one out too and started sleeping again. Within seconds, his breathing leveled out, his hands returned to his swords, and he was back against the mast as if the entire fight had been nothing more than a minor annoyance.
[The Arena: Mathematics and Meat]
Scene changes to ato and lemon at the competition arena.
The Grand Arena was a massive stone stadium that could hold ten thousand people, and today, every single seat was filled. In the center, a hundred cooking stations were set up, and the roar of the crowd was deafening. The heat from a hundred industrial stoves made the air shimmer, and the scent of the world's best food was enough to make a man go insane. Ato was leaning over the stone railing, his mouth watering as he looked at the field of cooks.
Ato: "Lemon come here."
Lemon: "Yes, I'm coming. How much will be for the popcorn and soda."
Stranger 3: "It will be 620 e-coins.
Lemon: "Ok, here."
Stranger 3: "Thank you sir for buying come back again later."
Lemon finally reached the seats, balancing the snacks through the thick, sweating crowd. He sat down and adjusted his glasses.
Lemon: "Oi ato."
Ato: "Here here."
Lemon sat beside him and gave him popcorn. Ato immediately began shoveling it into his mouth by the handful, his eyes scanning the hundred chefs below who were sharpening their knives and prepping their pans.
Ato: "Who's gonna be my cook."
Suddenly a voice came.
??????: " Is everyone ready for the cooking competition. Now three, two , one. Every cook start preparing.
All of the 100 cook started preparing dishes. The arena turned into a battlefield of iron and flame. Chopping knives sounded like a drumline, and blue flames erupted from a hundred woks. It was a spectacle of skill and speed. But one caught ato's eyes.
A blonde haired woman with an eye patch cooking smoothly. She moved with a grace that made the other chefs look like amateurs, handling her ingredients with perfect precision and a calm that stood out in the middle of the chaos.
Ato: "Oi lemon look at that woman with blonde hair , eye patch and-
Lemon: "With curves and an nice ass.
Ato: "Huh where are you looking at lemon.
Lemon: "Nowhere just measuring her chest size.
Ato: "Huh, I didn't know you were this much of a pervert, lemon.
Lemon didn't look away. He was staring intensely, his fingers moving as if he were solving a complex mathematical equation in the air.
Lemon talking to himself: "Using all my calculations and advanced maths i have studied in my island here chest size should be..... No way it's 103 cm.
Ato: "Oi lemon what are you talking about. 103 cm what are you talking about?
Lemon: "Don't worry ato you are just a kid.
Ato: "I'm not a kid.
Lemon: "But we should definitely recruit her.
Ato: "Isn't she cool.
The commentator's voice returned, screaming over the sound of sizzling pans and the cheers of the audience.
??????: "Yea, yea the greatest chef competition is coming to an end with five minutes remaining on the clock.
The final minutes were a blur of steam and delicious scents. The blonde woman, Manjo Shirihoshi, plated her dish with a single, steady hand, garnishing it with a sprig of rare sea-herb.
After sometime.
Commentator: "The greatest cook competition is ending in 5,4,3,2,1. Overe over. Every chef take your dish to the first table.
The stadium was filled with the most intoxicating aroma. Ato stood up, sniffing the air so hard he nearly fell over the stone railing.
Ato: " everyone's dish smells amazing right lemon.
Lemon: " Yea, let's see who wins.
The judges, three men with legendary appetites, began their work at the first table. They moved slowly, their faces serious as they sampled the best the island had to offer.
Judge 1: "Now chef no.99 come.
They tasted the food and it was good but the meat was overcooked. They marked their scores and moved to the final station.
Judge 2: "Now contestant no.100 Manjo shirihoshi.
Lemon from the arenas seat saying: "Si this beauties name is manjo what a great name.
Commentator: "Now judges are trying the dish.
When the judges tried the dish called 'Sea taste' three of them couldn't describe the taste they literally cried. Tears streamed down their faces as they clutched their chests in pure culinary bliss. The audience was stunned, watching the three stoic judges weep openly.
Commentator: "Omg what is happening to the judges.
Judge 3: "This is the best dish i ever tried in my whole life.
Both the other judges agreed too. They didn't even need to consult the other scores. They made him the winner.
Commentator: "The greatest chef competition has just ended and the winner is Manjo Shirihoshi and the reward is a sea beast's tail which will be delivered because it's too heavy to carry. We know where he lives so we will deliver it shortly.
Lemon: "Look she is going somewhere. Let's follow her.
Ato: "Of course she will be my cook.
Lemon: "Don't just talk come with me.
He grabbed ato and started dragging him through the exiting crowd. They pushed past fans and other chefs, keeping their eyes on the blonde hair moving through the exit.
However, they weren't the only ones watching her. From a dark, high-up balcony that overlooked the entire arena, a mysterious figure stood up, his eyes locked on the chef.
???????: "She is good cook, beautiful and short blonde here. I'm gonna need her now.
[Scene changes to Kojo]
Back at the docks, the sun was beginning to set, casting a long, golden glow over the water. The harbor was peaceful again. The pirates Kojo had thrown out were gone, having scrambled away in fear as soon as they hit the water.
Kojo was back in his cross-legged position against the mast. He was sleeping, his breath deep and even. The threat was gone, and the ship was quiet. He remained the silent, powerful guardian of the deck, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his blade, waiting for the others to return.
[Scene changes to faramis]
In the quietest part of the island, far away from the roaring arena, Faramis was wandering through the "Scholar's District." This part of the island was filled with narrow streets, old bookstores, and the smell of ancient paper and mechanical oil.
Faramis: "I still don't know which book to buy but for now let's buy an ice-cream. Am i forgetting something. I think no.
He stood there for a moment, licking his mint-chocolate chip cone as the sun dipped lower. He thought about the ship,he thought about the captain, and he thought about the food supplies he was supposed to be looking for. But the ice cream was cold.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself, taking another bite of the ice cream. "I definitely didn't forget anything important."
He continued walking through the town, perfectly happy, while his captain was currently stalking a legendary chef and he was forgetting about Kojo's drink.