A small shadow moved through the Ninth Floor. It was a girl in a maid outfit styled after traditional Japanese clothing, her hair pulled into a neat bun. Though she looked like a beautiful young girl, as a maid of Nazarick, she was anything but human. Her hair and face were merely part of a sophisticated mimicry. Entoma Vasilissa Zeta, the Arachnoid, was performing her cleaning duties when she noticed something unusual.
"Who's there?"
Light was spilling from a room even though the sun had yet to rise. It was coming from Kawasaki's private kitchen.
"Maybe they forgot to turn off the light," Entoma whispered, stepping inside to investigate.
However, Entoma had forgotten one crucial fact: chefs start their day early. Unlike when they were just characters in a game, the NPCs were now alive. She hadn't considered that Kawasaki would be preparing meals not just for himself and Momonga, but for the servants as well. This wasn't a forgotten light.
"Ma-Master Kawasaki?!"
"Hmm? Oh, Entoma. Morning."
Kawasaki was standing there, casually going about his work.
***
A chef's morning starts long before dawn. There are stocks to prep, soups to simmer, and a mountain of other tasks. Habits from the real world were hard to break; Kawasaki had woken up before 5:00 AM without needing an alarm.
"Nngh... that was a good sleep."
Ignoring the urge to lounge, Kawasaki crawled out of bed and quickly changed into his chef's whites. He left a note for Clementine, telling her to wait for him before having breakfast, and headed to his sanctuary—the kitchen.
"Now... what should I make?"
He thought of the Pleiades who worked from the early hours, and the Floor Guardians who, despite orders to remain cautious, often went out to gather intel. Something portable and light seemed best. He pulled chicken breasts from the refrigerator.
"Yeah, these will do."
The quality of the meat was something he could never have touched in the real world. He smiled, trimming the meat and making quick scores in the flesh. He left the skin intact, seasoned the meat with salt and pepper, and gave it a splash of cooking sake. He worked with practiced efficiency, finishing the prep for fifteen portions in ten minutes.
"Next, the sauce. Sake, soy sauce, and honey."
He mixed the ingredients in a small bowl, the honey providing the necessary glaze. The base for the chicken was ready.
"Simple and filling. Might be a bit heavy for breakfast, but..."
He shrugged. A good breakfast was fuel. He laid the seasoned chicken skin-side down in a hot pan.
"While that's searing, let's get the rest ready."
He shredded two heads of cabbage and mixed a batch of mustard mayonnaise. Teriyaki sandwiches. It was a hearty start to the day, but perfect for people who spent their lives in constant motion.
"Looking good."
He flipped the chicken to find a perfect golden-brown sear. He covered the pan to let the meat cook through. Once the chicken was done, he blotted away the excess fat with paper towels, poured in the glaze, and turned the heat to low.
"Multiple toasters... man, I love this place."
He didn't know what powered them, but he loaded a row of toasters with sliced bread and hit the switches. As the bread toasted, the sauce reduced, coating the chicken in a beautiful, glossy sheen.
"Hup!"
He caught a slice of toast as it popped up, spread the mustard mayo, added a heap of cabbage, then the teriyaki chicken, and sliced the resulting sandwich into large wedges.
"And another!"
As he was assembling the next one, the kitchen door creaked open.
"Ma-Master Kawasaki?!"
He turned, expecting Picky or Shiho. Instead, he saw Entoma, the small Arachnoid maid, staring at him in shock.
"Morning, Entoma."
He waved at her with one hand while catching another piece of toast with the other. He finished the sandwich, wrapped it in parchment, and placed it in a basket. He prepared five portions—for Yuri, Narberal, Entoma, Lupusregina, and Pestonya. He excluded the general maids, as well as Solution (who was away) and Shizu (who couldn't fully process taste anyway). He beckoned Entoma closer.
"Entoma, this is breakfast for you all. There's enough for Pestonya too. Eat them during your briefing."
"It is... not allowed for servants to eat your cooking, Master Kawasaki."
"It's not about whether it's 'allowed,'" Kawasaki chuckled. "If you don't eat them, I'll just have to throw them away. I made them specifically for you guys. It would be a waste, wouldn't it?"
Entoma looked horrified at the thought of wasting his food.
"So, you'll take them, right?"
"...Yes. Understood. We are unworthy of such mercy."
She cradled the basket like a sacred relic and hurried out. Kawasaki shook his head.
"I really need to work on their perspective," he muttered. "A chef makes food to be eaten, not worshipped."
He went back to work, but then remembered something. "Wait, we have a penguin now."
Eclair, the butler's assistant. Giving a bird a chicken sandwich felt a bit like encouraging cannibalism. He tossed some salmon into the broiler and started prepping salmon rice balls instead.
***
"Well, well. Good morning, Master Kawasaki."
"Eek!"
As Kawasaki left the kitchen with his basket and bag, he ran into Eclair, who was being carried by a masked man in a suit.
That design is something else, Kawasaki thought, eyeing the penguin's curled blond hair. The contrast between the formal speech and the flightless bird appearance was striking.
"Morning. You need something?"
"I am responsible for the cleaning of Nazarick," Eclair said with a bow. "I have come to ensure your kitchen is spotless."
"Ah. Well, I've already done most of it. But feel free to finish up." He knew the NPCs got depressed if they weren't allowed to work. He stepped aside, then reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped rice ball.
"Eclair."
"Yes? ...Oh, what is this?" Eclair caught the rice ball in his wing.
"A rice ball for breakfast. You can't work on an empty stomach."
"Ooh... I am deeply grateful!"
Relieved he hadn't caused a scene, Kawasaki waved and moved on. He didn't see Eclair and his attendant huddled together moments later, trembling with emotion as they shared the "sacred treasure" of Nazarick.
***
Kawasaki moved to the Seventh Floor, the volcanic domain of Demiurge. A female demon with a bird's head and dressed in black leather landed before him.
"Master Kawasaki. Have you business with Lord Demiurge?"
"Let's see... you're Evil Lord Envy, right?"
The demon bowed. Kawasaki was glad he remembered the name. "Demiurge is at the Blazing Temple. Shall I escort you?"
"No, that's fine. I've got meetings with Momonga and things to do on other floors. No time to linger."
To be honest, Kawasaki found Demiurge a bit exhausting. The demon constantly looked at him as if every sneeze was part of a grand, cosmic plan. He pulled three rice balls and two wrapped teriyaki sandwiches from his stores.
"Give these to Demiurge. Sorry I didn't make anything for you, Envy."
"Please, do not trouble yourself for a servant!" Envy said, bowing low.
Kawasaki felt bad sending her on an errand with nothing. He pulled out one more rice ball. "Here, this is for the delivery. Just the one, so eat it where nobody sees you, okay?"
"Master Kawasaki?!"
He waved her off and activated the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown, teleporting to the Sixth Floor jungle.
***
"What? Master Kawasaki was here?" Demiurge asked, his brow furrowing.
The demon looked terrible. He had been obsessively drafting plans for the Black Scripture operation. His suit was wrinkled, and his tie was undone.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Why was I not informed immediately?"
"He said he was busy with meetings and had to visit other floors."
Demiurge sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I see. You are dismissed."
Once Envy left, Demiurge looked at the sandwiches and rice balls.
"A break... He is telling me to take a break."
The Master had seen his exhaustion and provided a command in the form of a meal. Demiurge began clearing his desk, finally allowing himself a moment of rest.
***
"Sister Yuri, Pestonya... Master Kawasaki sent us breakfast."
Entoma presented the basket. Yuri looked surprised. "How did this happen?"
"I went to clean his kitchen, and he was already there... he said if we didn't eat it, he'd throw it away."
"Well, we have no choice then," Yuri said.
"I want to see what's in—OW!" Lupusregina yipped as Yuri barked a knuckle against her head.
The maids looked at the sandwiches with solemn intensity. "We know he is kind," Yuri whispered, "but this is a staggering honor. His food is meant for the Gods."
"Indeed," Pestonya added. "He should not have to provide for servants like us... woof."
"Should we give it back?" Narberal asked, looking longingly at the bread.
"No. We cannot let his effort go to waste. We shall eat with gratitude."
The Pleiades sat in silence, eating their "light snack" with the heavy, reverent tension of a religious ritual.
***
Momonga was waiting in his room. Breakfast was scheduled for 8:00 AM.
"Is something wrong, Lord Ainz?" Albedo asked.
"No... nothing."
Momonga was sweating. He had slept in his human form, only to be woken up by Albedo staring at him with the eyes of a hungry predator. The pressure was immense. Why had Kawasaki told her she could join them for breakfast?
"Would you like some tea while we wait?"
"No, I'll wait for Kawasaki."
He was terrified she'd slip something into his drink. Being able to eat and sleep again was wonderful, but Albedo was a different kind of challenge. He cursed the moment he had edited her settings.
"Momonga, Albedo. Morning!"
Kawasaki walked in, smiling. Momonga let out a massive sigh of relief.
"You're late," Momonga noted. "What happened?"
"I was making breakfast for the Guardians and the Pleiades. Had to drop it off."
Albedo stiffened. "Master Kawasaki, you should not have to trouble yourself with the servants."
"It's my job," Kawasaki said simply. "I'm a chef. I make food. You guys eat it so you can help Momonga. Everyone does their part."
He laid out the teriyaki sandwiches and rice balls. "I used a heavy glaze for the chicken. It pairs perfectly with the bread."
Momonga took a bite. The sweetness of the chicken, the sharp kick of the mustard mayo, and the crunch of the cabbage were a perfect harmony.
"This is amazing. Simple, but incredible."
"Wait until you try it with rice," Kawasaki grinned.
"Master Kawasaki... about our lessons," Albedo said, her eyes shining. "Will we be resuming my 'bride training' in the kitchen?"
"Sure. Just let me know when you're free."
Albedo beamed. Momonga sent a desperate Message to his friend.
(Kawasaki, what are you doing?!)
(Tabula asked me to add 'cooking lessons' to her settings before the game ended. He said it was for her 'bride training.' She's a beauty, man. You could do worse.)
Momonga ignored him and reached for his coffee.
"Where are Sebas and Solution?" Kawasaki asked after the meal.
Albedo explained that they were near the fortress city of E-Rantel, posing as a wealthy merchant's daughter and her butler.
"Have them return once they reach the city," Kawasaki requested. "I want them to gather data on local cuisine. A chef needs to know the regional flavors if he's going to open a shop."
"A shop?" Momonga flinched. "Kawasaki, I can't let you go outside yet. Your combat stats are too low."
"Master Kawasaki, I must agree with Lord Ainz," Albedo added.
"But it's a great way to earn local currency! And it suits me, doesn't it?"
"The answer is no," Momonga and Albedo said in unison.
"Can I at least go out in human form to gather info? I need to taste the food for myself."
"NO!" They shouted again.
Kawasaki clicked his tongue. "You guys are overprotective."
"Until the Black Scripture is handled, you stay inside," Momonga commanded. "I'll issue an order to the whole Tomb. If anyone sees Kawasaki trying to sneak out, they are to stop him immediately."
Momonga turned back to Kawasaki. "Anyway, I want to test your 'Everything Becomes Ingredients' skill in the forest later. We need more data."
"Fine. But only if I get to see the Kingdom and the Empire eventually. I'm not just staying in the kitchen forever."
Momonga gave a non-committal shrug. He realized then that a chef's curiosity was a force of nature.
"Oh, and look at this," Kawasaki said, showing him a photo. It was the empty table from the cooking battle in the Arcology. "I crushed that elite chef."
"Nice! I knew you would."
Momonga looked at his friend and felt a pang of sadness. "Do you think any of the others are here?"
"Unlikely," Kawasaki sighed. "Only you and I were logged in at the end. If they weren't there, they didn't make the trip."
It was a harsh truth, but Momonga appreciated the honesty. "Well... at least I have you. I think I would have gone crazy trying to find them all alone."
"Alright, enough gloom. Let's make curry, Momonga."
"Now? I thought we were doing that for lunch?"
"For a hundred maids and the Guardians? We need to start now if we're going to be ready."
***
Kawasaki handed Momonga a spare apron and a bandana. As they entered the kitchen, Momonga looked hesitant.
"What's wrong? You don't like cooking?"
"It's not that. I've been experimenting... in this world, if you don't have the skill for something, you literally can't do it. I can't even hold a sword properly because I don't have fighter levels. I'm worried the system won't let me help you."
Kawasaki laughed. "Don't worry. I've got that covered."
The Cookman class was unpopular because it required real-world knowledge, but it had one specialized skill: Cooking Instruction.
"It lets me temporarily grant my cooking skills to anyone within my line of sight," Kawasaki explained. "I'm a master in Japanese, Western, and Chinese cuisine. I can loan you enough levels to get through the day."
"Really?" Momonga's eyes sparkled.
"Yep. Now, first task: spices. You're going to grind them by hand."
"Spices? Don't we just use a curry roux block?"
"Not in my kitchen. Curry is an art of herbs and spices. Roux is for amateurs. Here, take the mortar and pestle."
Momonga stared at the stone tools. "You're starting from scratch?"
"Always. We're making four distinct types: Mild, Seafood, Beef, and Mince. Each one needs a different balance."
Kawasaki began pulling jars from the cabinets. Red chili, turmeric, cumin, coriander—the core four. But he didn't stop there. Cayenne, cinnamon, cardamom, bay leaves...
"You grind them down, but don't spill any," Kawasaki instructed. "Clove is for the beef—it adds depth. Cinnamon is for the mince—it cuts through the fat. You have to match the spice to the meat."
"It's so complex," Momonga muttered, working the pestle.
"We'll start with the mild version. No cayenne. Just cumin, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, bay, allspice, coriander, and garlic. That's for the aroma."
"Sauté them on low heat," Kawasaki added. "If they burn, we start over. Pressure's on, Momonga!"
"I'm doing my best!"
Momonga was tense, his human body stiff with concentration. Kawasaki smiled. This was exactly what his friend needed—to feel like a person again, doing something mundane but challenging.
"It's starting to smell good," Momonga noted.
"That's the turmeric. It gives it that classic color. Once the aroma peaks, we let it cool. It's better if it ages for a month, but we'll make do with a few hours."
As they moved on to the seafood spices—a lighter, more delicate blend—Momonga looked at his friend.
"Cooking really is a lot of work."
"It is. And that's why I want to see what else is out there. Can you blame me?"
"Nice try," Momonga laughed. "The answer is still no."
Kawasaki clicked his tongue, but he was grinning. He started prepping the spices for the extra-spicy version as Momonga kept grinding, the two friends lost in the rhythm of the kitchen.
Next — Menu 11: Let's Eat Curry (Mild Edition) — by Momonga
***
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