The meal had concluded, and with a lingering sense of regret, Momonga reverted from his human form back into the Overlord. Even so, the sensation of fullness and the lingering warmth of happiness remained within his soul, leaving him in a remarkably peaceful state of mind.
"Well then, Kawasaki. Let us return to Nazarick. The Floor Guardians and the servants will be overjoyed."
Momonga urged the return, but Kawasaki's response was immediate and flat.
"Eh? No thanks."
"Why not?!" Momonga, Lupusregina, and Yuri cried out in unison. They hadn't expected him to refuse so bluntly without a moment's hesitation.
Momonga demanded a reason. Clementine was currently dead to the world from exhaustion, draped over Lupusregina's back, so he couldn't see any logical reason to delay. Kawasaki looked at them as if they were the ones being strange.
"I'm a chef, you know? Do you get it? I can't just 'go back' like a normal person."
"I... I have no idea what you're talking about," Momonga admitted. Back in reality, he had been a simple salaryman; the professional pride of a craftsman was a foreign language to him.
"Master Kawasaki," Yuri interjected, "do you mean to say you wish to perform a 'Chef's Greeting' by serving a meal?"
"Exactly! That's it! Yuri, you really get it. As a chef, greeting everyone from the kitchen is an essential tradition."
Kawasaki praised Yuri, noting she truly lived up to her role as the vice-leader of the Pleiades.
"Yes! Master Kawasaki! Question!" Lupusregina shouted, still carrying the sleeping Clementine.
"Go ahead, Lupu."
"Will you make something for us too?"
"Lupusregina!" Yuri hissed, but Kawasaki just laughed heartily.
"Of course. Today I'll be serving the Floor Guardians, but I'll make plenty for the Pleiades and the general maids too. I'm a chef—my greeting is served on a plate."
If Kawasaki was this determined, Momonga felt he should respect that passion.
"So, we are holding a banquet at Nazarick?"
"Yeah, that's perfect. There's no better place than the restaurant to announce my return."
Ideally, we'd have a ceremony in the Throne Room with the Guardians, Momonga thought, but I guess this is how it's going to be.
"That's why I'm not going back to the Tomb just yet. Drop me off near the entrance. I'll set up the Green Secret House and start prep. Oh, and send Shiho and Picky to me. I need them to help with the cooking."
Shiho was the Head Chef of Nazarick, an NPC created by Kawasaki. Since Kawasaki only cared about the cooking itself, Peroroncino and Tabula Smaragdina had been the ones to flesh out her backstory as a Silky. Picky was the Sous-chef. Momonga agreed to the request, but then Kawasaki dropped a bombshell with a casual smile.
"By the way, Momonga—Pandora's Actor is attending too."
"What?"
Momonga's voice cracked. Pandora's Actor... the Area Guardian of the Treasury and Momonga's own creation. He had poured every element he thought was "cool" at the time into that NPC. Now, the character was nothing but a walking reminder of his most embarrassing, cringe-inducing past.
Wait, wait. There's still hope, Momonga thought desperately. Sebas and Solution are in the Royal Capital gathering intel. I can use that as an excuse to—
"It's not right to leave anyone out," Kawasaki continued. "It's a shame about Sebas, but I'll head to the capital and cook for him another time."
It's over, Momonga realized. Once Kawasaki made up his mind, he never budged. He was the man whose stubbornness once caused a massive guild-wide fallout.
"Understood... I will have Pandora's Actor attend."
"Great! It's a banquet, so let's make it a blast."
While Kawasaki looked thrilled, Momonga's voice was hollow as he gave his assent. They teleported to the outskirts of the Tomb.
***
"Ah, my nostalgic Secret House."
The Green Secret House was a base-building item that Kawasaki had customized with paid data crystals. While standard versions were just single rooms, this one featured Kawasaki's private quarters, two guest rooms, a massive kitchen, and an extensive pantry.
"I'll be in here deciding the menu. See you in five hours, Momonga."
After watching Kawasaki disappear into the house, Momonga turned to the two maids, remembering Clementine.
"Yuri, Lupusregina. Take Clementine to the log house on the surface. Wait for her to wake up, then dress her in attire befitting Nazarick before bringing her inside."
Bringing her in as she was would cause a scene. He decided it was best to introduce her alongside Kawasaki.
"As you command. Should we prepare a gown rather than armor?"
"Yes. Armor has no place in a dining hall. Use a dress. I grant you permission to take a gown and jewelry from the Ninth Floor."
Yuri and Lupusregina's eyes widened. The items on the Ninth Floor were the personal property of the Supreme Beings. Using them for an outsider was a massive sign of respect.
"She is Kawasaki's benefactor. Treat her with the utmost care. Ensure she is dressed in a way that does not shame him when she is led to the restaurant. I am trusting you with this."
"Understood!" they replied in unison.
Momonga looked at his Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown. In his rush to meet Kawasaki, he had forgotten to remove it—a violation of his own security rules. He gave a wry smile and teleported to his private study, only to immediately regret the move.
"Lord Ainz! Why?! Why were you having a secret tryst with Yuri Alpha?! Am I not enough for you?!"
"Calm down! Calm down, Albedo!"
In Albedo's mind, the trip to Carne Village had been a romantic getaway. It took a monumental effort for Momonga to settle her down.
"I apologize. I was... slightly agitated," Albedo said finally.
Slightly is an understatement, Momonga thought, but he didn't dare say it aloud. He understood all too well that her obsession was a result of his own meddling with her settings.
"Was the situation in Carne Village resolved?"
"Yes. And on that note, Albedo—five hours from now, we will hold a banquet in the restaurant. Summon all Floor Guardians, excluding those on the Fourth and Eighth Floors. They are to wear formal attire."
He paused. The Ninth Floor had a general cafeteria for the maids and a private restaurant for the guild members. "Tell them to gather at the private restaurant."
"But... to set foot in the sanctuary of the Supreme Beings...?"
"It is fine. We will hold the banquet there, report on Carne Village, and announce our future plans. Five hours. Do not be late."
He gave the orders clearly, cutting off any room for argument. "One more thing: send the chefs Shiho and Picky to me immediately. Then, prepare yourself for the evening. You are dismissed."
Once Albedo left, Momonga slumped over his desk.
"Pandora's Actor... I wanted to keep him hidden in the Treasury forever."
Just thinking about facing his creation in front of Kawasaki and the others made his spirit sink. A green flash flickered across his body as his emotions were suppressed. He let out a deep, weary sigh.
***
A man and a woman walked down the long, opulent corridors of the Tomb. The man had the head of a mushroom—a Myconid named Picky, the Sous-chef of Nazarick. The woman was strikingly beautiful, but she carried an aura of absolute authority that commanded respect. She was Shiho, the Head Chef and an NPC created by Kawasaki.
Both were tense, having been told by Albedo to report to Ainz's study immediately.
"Shiho, did we make a mistake?" Picky whispered.
"Do you have a reason to think so?"
"No! Not at all!" Picky waved his hands. Neither knew why they had been summoned by name.
They knocked, waited for permission, and entered.
"You're here. Good."
They knelt before the Overlord immediately. "Shiho, Picky—I have a direct order. A Green Secret House has been placed outside Nazarick. Go there at once. Do not ask questions, just move. Understood?"
They gave their assent and hurried through the Tomb, using the portals to move from the Ninth Floor down to the First, then sprinting out to the surface. They reached the Secret House and stepped inside, only to find someone they never expected to see again.
"You're here. I've been waiting, Shiho, Picky."
The voice was deep, and the orange, soft-looking figure stood tall in a pristine white chef's coat.
"Master Kawasaki!"
They moved to kneel, but Kawasaki stopped them.
"Save the reunions for later. At eight o'clock, we're holding a banquet in the Tomb. I'm cooking for Momonga and the Floor Guardians, but it's a bit much for me to handle alone."
Shiho knew that was a lie. A man who had regularly prepared feasts for forty-one gods wouldn't struggle to feed a handful of Guardians. This was a test.
"I won't let unskilled hands into my kitchen," Kawasaki continued. "I need to see if you're still worthy of helping me. You have fifteen minutes. Show me your progress. You have full access to the pantry, but you must work alone. No collaboration. Now, go."
"Understood!"
They dashed into the kitchen. The counters were lined with incredible ingredients—Golden Hen's Eggs, Raging Bull shoulder—items usually reserved only for Kawasaki's use.
Shiho didn't hesitate. She grabbed pasta and garlic. Fifteen minutes wasn't enough for a slow-cooked meal. Most of the high-end ingredients required soaking or long simmering. The Golden Eggs were an option, but she wasn't confident she could master their richness in such a short window. She chose Peperoncino. It was known as the "Pasta of Despair"—simple, yet so exposed that a chef's true skill had no place to hide.
Boil the water, heavy on the salt, she thought. She chose thin 1.6mm noodles to save time and aimed for a slightly smaller portion. Seven minutes for the boil. She had plenty of time. She prepped the olive oil, two and a half cloves of garlic, and red chili peppers.
Deseed and slice the chili. Slice two cloves of garlic and crush the half.
As she worked, a thought from Kawasaki's past lessons echoed in her mind: "Shiho, a pure Peperoncino can often feel thin or lacking. If you feel it's failing, don't hesitate to add bouillon and bacon to give it depth."
She looked at the bacon. She could use it. It would be safer.
What am I thinking?! she scolded herself. Kawasaki wanted to see her skill, not her ability to hide behind safety nets. She shook her head and grabbed the pan. She took a deep breath.
She heated the oil and added the garlic and chili. She watched with laser focus. If the garlic burned even slightly, the dish was ruined. When the garlic turned a perfect golden brown, she added a ladle of pasta water to the oil and tossed it vigorously. Emulsification. The starch from the water bound the oil into a creamy sauce.
She pulled the pasta out at the six-minute mark, letting the carry-over heat and the sauce finish the cooking to a perfect al dente. She tossed the noodles, plating them with a flourish and a dash of parsley. She looked at Picky, who was still paralyzed by indecision in front of the ingredients.
His lack of decisiveness will be his undoing, she thought. She walked back to Kawasaki.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Here is my Peperoncino."
Kawasaki looked at the presentation first. "The basics of Western plating are solid." He took a bite.
"Good. The al dente is perfect, and the emulsification is smooth. You've improved, Shiho."
"Thank you, Master."
She waited, but the word "delicious" never came.
"Ground black pepper," Kawasaki said, looking her in the eye. "It's a matter of preference, but in a dish this simple, black pepper provides the necessary contrast. If you didn't want to use bacon, the pepper was your best tool for depth. The technique is flawless, the plating is passing, but you didn't think about the person eating it. You're still missing that final step."
Shiho bit her lip. "I... I am sorry."
"Fifteen minutes is more than enough time to check your seasoning before serving. And if you were afraid of failing, you should have used the bacon. I wanted to see a completed dish, not a challenge for the sake of a challenge."
He saw through her. She had wanted to prove she could do the hard version, but in doing so, she had neglected the diner's experience.
"However," Kawasaki smiled, "I respect that you chose the difficult path. Well done."
She clenched her fists. She didn't want a "well done" for effort. She wanted a "perfect."
"Two minutes left," Kawasaki noted. "Is Picky not going to make it?"
Just then, Picky emerged from the kitchen. "I'm here! Master Kawasaki! A plain omelet made with Golden Eggs! Please, enjoy!"
***
Picky was sweating. He had stared at the Raging Bull beef, but he knew he couldn't match Kawasaki's skill with steak. He had looked at the tuna, but he hadn't fully mastered the art of the blade for sashimi. He had settled on the Golden Eggs.
Stay calm. It's just an ingredient, he told himself as he cracked four eggs. The whites shimmered like silk, and the yolks were a radiant, heavy gold. He added salt, white pepper, and a splash of high-grade cream.
He whisked them vigorously, incorporating air. He heated the pan, added butter, and poured in the liquid the moment it sizzled. He worked the pan with precision, folding the eggs over the edge to create the classic almond shape.
The look is good...
But he ran out of time. He couldn't add a garnish or a sauce. He rushed to Kawasaki and presented the plain, yellow-gold omelet.
"No garnish?" Kawasaki asked. "Is that confidence in the flavor, or did you run out of time?"
"I... ran out of time, Master."
Kawasaki took a bite. "It's good. But it's mostly just the taste of the Golden Egg doing the work. Your technique is a passing grade, but your lack of decisiveness nearly cost you the dish."
Picky bowed his head in shame. Kawasaki sighed. He knew how much these NPCs worshipped him; he had been a bit too hard on them.
They're like I was, Kawasaki thought. He had been a high-society chef before falling to the slums. He had seen countless talented chefs freeze up when cooking for someone they feared or admired.
"I won't be doing the banquet alone," Kawasaki said.
Both Shiho and Picky looked up, stunned.
"You both have the technical skill. What you lack is the perspective of the diner and the confidence to make a call. You'll only learn that by doing. You're both helping me tonight. I'll be training you as we go."
"Yes, Master!" they shouted, their voices filled with a new, fierce determination.
"Alright! Let's get to work! We start with the stews—they take the longest. We're going to give them a night they'll never forget!"
Kawasaki slammed his fist into his palm and led them back into the kitchen. The curtain was about to rise on the greatest feast the Great Tomb of Nazarick had ever seen.
Next — Menu 6: Shalltear's Roasted Duck, Aura's Hamburger Steak, and Mare's Spaghetti Bolognese
***
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