30

Chapter 30

‘I visited French restaurants several times in the past, but…’

Gio looked around the interior once again.

‘They truly committed to the concept here.’

Possessing more romance than fear, Gio was undaunted even after hearing that the restaurant had been fashioned from a dungeon where dozens of people had died.

‘Why should I be afraid when they serve delicious food?’

To Gio, even the air in this restaurant, Histoire, tasted sweet.

“……”

“Do you like it here?”

“The atmosphere is pleasant.”

It was enjoyable simply to admire.

Chaotic yet clean, dreamlike yet orderly. The temperature of the colors, cool but also somehow affectionate, must have been a testament to the designer’s skill in properly blending white with pastel shades.

The design was bizarre and fantastical, as though it gave physical form to one person’s beautiful dream.

‘Though whoever designed this building probably was not human…’

There was the complex, beautiful building that appeared to embody a dream, and the sweet air that whetted one’s appetite as though a fantasy had been made real. This unusual experience, unlike anything Gio had encountered in his life, excited him as though he had arrived at an amusement park.

Immersive dining had existed on Earth in the past as well. It referred to a restaurant where one watched a performance in a theater designed around a particular concept while eating a meal synchronized with it. Perhaps one might call it participatory theater that also allowed the audience to dine.

‘Moreover, this restaurant has a story connected to an entire dimension: a dungeon. Unlike pure theater, which could be called fiction, we are inside a story that actually existed. They even said the chef here was the protagonist of that story.’

Though the restaurant was tremendously tall, its center was open, allowing visitors on the first floor to look directly up at the ceiling.

But the center was not simply a wide circular shaft. Round, railingless lobbies floated in the air, connected by layer upon layer of staircases. Guests could dine there.

Those eating in the floating lobbies occupied excellent vantage points, as though they had been selected as the protagonists of this play.

“……”

Gio and Yoo Seongwoon were seated along the edge of the fifth floor.

“……”

“Hmm…”

With a suddenly uncertain expression, Yoo Seongwoon asked,

“Would you prefer to sit in the lobby after all? It’s a popular seating area because that is where the dungeon’s story unfolded.”

“No.”

“Ah, that was quick. You kept looking at the floating lobbies, so I thought you might prefer them.”

“I was admiring the building because I like its structure. It is a pleasure to view.”

He had his dignity and could not reject the idea too forcefully, but he absolutely did not wish to dine in a floating lobby.

‘Attracting that much attention would be far too grueling an experience for a tenderhearted person like me.’

In the context of immersive dining, that seating arrangement might also be considered part of the performance. Even so, Gio had no desire to eat in a space so exposed to the gazes of unfamiliar strangers. He was shy around people.

“I was merely admiring it.”

“Then I’m relieved.”

At Gio’s concise yet firm reply, Yoo Seongwoon inwardly swallowed a sigh of relief.

‘…I cannot display Gio in such a public location.’

Gio had kept his hood raised as Yoo Seongwoon requested, but that could not conceal his physique and atmosphere.

No matter how he imitated humans and lowered his stature, where could his essence possibly go?

‘Approximately nineteen people are watching us… Eleven of them are Hunters. Around four feel wary and are preparing for a possible incident. One C-rank, two B-ranks, and one A-rank.’

Histoire was an unusual restaurant that made direct use of the remnants of an old dungeon. Most ordinary people who had never Awakened avoided entering altogether. The threshold was too high for anyone to come and casually enjoy a meal.

There was the price, of course, but more importantly, this had once been a site where people died in large numbers. For most, that fact ruled it out completely.

‘Many people said eating in a place like this would give them nightmares.’

Hunters witnessed people dying as part of their daily work, so more than seventy percent of Histoire’s clientele consisted of Hunters.

Even among them, however, reactions differed.

‘The remnants still exert influence.’

Histoire’s building could induce everything from visual and auditory hallucinations to psychotic breaks in severe cases.

It was not easy to reach that point unless one caused a disturbance in the restaurant, but many guests could not endure the subtle pressure emanating from the building itself.

“……”

That bastard Gio.

‘If you’re going to imitate a human, you should do it properly.’

Of course the other guests would stare if he so casually took in and enjoyed the restaurant. In a space where abnormalities worsened the longer one looked, Gio was openly revealing that he was not human.

‘…Furthermore…’

Even separate from that chilling demeanor and behavior, there was something aloof about Gio.

‘Does he suit this French restaurant so well because he truly looks like a nobleman?’

Should Yoo Seongwoon call him elegant or imposing? Gio himself had no particular intention of appearing either way and was even trying to diminish his presence, yet every movement naturally carried dignity.

‘I did not notice it much before because we only spoke while he was a portrait. Now that he is outside, his refined air is unmistakable. He also has a strong sense of neatness like the priests at a temple.’

Did Gio truly believe the phrase “ordinary person” suited someone with such an atmosphere?

‘There are hardly any people like this even among humans…’

Gio possessed great respect for and understanding of humanity, yet shortcomings still appeared here and there. The lack of detail seemed to prove that he was not human after all.

“……”

Naturally, Gio had no thoughts whatsoever.

‘It has been a long time since I visited a restaurant like this.’

For a moment, he even thought as Giovanni.

In truth, all the dignity and refinement he had displayed until now came from Giovanni, who had been a nobleman, physician, and priest. Gio was simply unaware of the habits and atmosphere emerging naturally from him.

“This is the bread course.”

“Thank you.”

Gio’s heart pounded.

‘Bread.’

He could hardly believe how happy he was to see a lump of flour after so long. Remembering meals he had shared with his students while living as Giovanni warmed his heart further.

Yoo Seongwoon appeared to guess Gio’s feelings.

“Do you like bread?”

“Do not worry. There is nothing I refuse to eat, and I am not picky.”

“You truly love food…”

“I do.”

Gio lightly tore off part of the bread and placed it on his side plate.

‘Small and round.’

Rather than eating it all at once, he broke it into small pieces and ate them gradually. Yoo Seongwoon stared at Giovanni’s behavior.

“……”

Yoo Seongwoon became inwardly convinced.

‘He must have belonged to the nobility… or an equivalent class.’

His every meticulous table manner suggested as much.

‘It did not stand out very much at the baekban restaurant. Did he have some connection to France? Or perhaps, separate from that, there was something linking him to Western customs…’

While Yoo Seongwoon pondered, Gio continued eating.

“The bread is delicious.”

“Is it? It certainly smells good.”

“It is mild and nutty.”

The bread’s surface was so crisp that it seemed nearly dried out. Even so, its crust was neither hard nor tough like that of poorly made bread.

Inside the crust, which shattered crisply like the layers of a pastry, was a fluffy interior that released curling steam.

‘It is nothing like sandwich bread or a dinner roll. If I had to find the closest comparison, it might be ciabatta. But it is absurdly fluffy even for that, so it differs slightly from what I know…’

Between the airy layers, textured as though whipped meringue had been puffed up, was a delicate chewiness.

First came the crisp crust, then the soft, fluffy texture, then the chewiness that gently seeped through. The variations made it satisfying to chew.

The bread itself possessed a mild, nutty taste that showcased the grain’s natural aroma, accompanied by the subtle scent of wood from the oven. Both were excellent.

‘Nothing is excessive. Everything is harmonious.’

Gio wanted to kidnap whoever had made it.

“This oil smells wonderful too.”

“Ah, it does, doesn’t it? I’m told it blends olives and mushrooms.”

“Olives and mushrooms?”

“Both are improved varieties brought from dungeons. This may suit your palate even better.”

“It is certainly a distinctive attempt, and I like it. It is very good.”

Ordinarily, oil served for dipping bread in this manner was often accompanied by balsamic vinegar.

Balsamic, which could be described as a thick grape vinegar, was superb for its tart, intense flavor. Strangely, however, this oil contained salt instead.

‘It almost feels like eating sashimi.’

Gio suddenly remembered a mermaid with navy-blue hair. She had been a proud and sensitive child.

‘…Aria particularly disliked strong flavors and enjoyed dipping bread in oil without vinegar. It might have been fine with salt added like this… I never thought of it then.’

Of course, salt had been expensive at the time, making it difficult to keep a generous supply. Even in a seaside village, salt was a precious ingredient.

“……”

It certainly resembled sashimi.

The bread was tender, yet its interior retained a particularly vivid texture. Just as one might dip marbled tuna belly into seasoned oil, the bread’s vitality inspired a similar impression.

‘…Perhaps because the oil and salt are combined, the aroma is intensified while the grain’s sweetness becomes more prominent. It certainly pairs well with the texture of freshly baked bread.’

As Gio nibbled away at the bread, the second course arrived.

“Onion soup topped with three cheeses.”

Unlike the creamy soup most people imagined, this was a transparent brown broth relying solely on the sweetness and savor of onions.

“……”

Dark yellow and orange cheeses spread widely enough to conceal what lay below, melted to precisely the proper shade.

Gio gently spooned up the soup.

‘The cheese is not very thick.’

Unlike the crisp, toasted surface of the cheese, the interior was delicate and soft. Perhaps because this side touched the onion soup, it had absorbed the deep savor characteristic of well-caramelized onions.

‘The onion strands retain their shape well. They have been cooked until soft enough to crush with the tongue, yet the onions’ original form remains this visible. The soup must have been prepared with tremendous care. It must have taken considerable time.’

Cheese atop onion soup was an obvious combination, but Gio did not especially like the cheese layer to be thick. Personally, he disliked cheese that became rubbery once the soup and bowl cooled.

‘Someone might say it serves the same purpose as the radish or meat in beef-and-radish soup, or that it enriches the texture… But I am not that someone. I want to eat soup.’

The bowl holding this soup, however, remained continuously warm. The cheese was neither paper-thin nor thick, making it very easy to scoop. That also seemed to highlight the onion’s natural taste more effectively.

“……”

“Do you like it?”

“I like how it warms my body.”

“Onion soup certainly feels a little like restorative food.”

“I think so too.”

The heart of onion soup was the process of sautéing firm white onions until they became a deep caramel color. If the onions burned or were not cooked enough, the result would be insipid onion water rather than a savory soup.

But this soup had wrung every last drop of sweetness, savor, and depth from the onions. It deserved to be called restorative food. Ordinary care and time could never draw out every part of an onion’s flavor to this extent.

‘Kidnap.’

Kidnap the chef.

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“Cheese Flower salad with Ameura purée.”

At the unfamiliar phrase accompanying the next course, Gio naturally turned toward Yoo Seongwoon.

The beautiful salad was dotted with flower-shaped cheeses covered in a pale-yellow sauce, while neatly trimmed petals surrounded them.

“……”

“……”

He required an explanation.

“……”

“Ah… Are you curious about the ingredients?”

“If you do not mind, may I ask what Ameura is?”

“It is one of the representative fruits successfully brought from a dungeon and improved through cultivation. Do you know avocados?”

“I do.”

“Its flesh is similarly soft, but it has a nutty aroma as strong as a nut’s. The flesh contains an extraordinary quantity of oil. Since that oil does not burn at most temperatures, I understand it is frequently used in Chinese cuisine.”

“Then the flesh itself…”

“Indeed, this is my first time seeing a restaurant use Ameura as a purée. Until last season, they served a fruit salad instead. Histoire changes its menu every four months, which makes it enjoyable to revisit.”

“I see.”

The fruit known as Ameura was an extremely pale yellow, lighter even than a chick.

‘…Its nuttiness is comparable to peanuts or walnuts.’

Even so, it did not immediately evoke nuts. More precisely, it resembled the nuttiness and sweetness that emerged after chewing white rice for a long time.

At the finish, a deep sweetness like honey and the tartness characteristic of fruit struck briefly, varying the flavor.

‘It certainly contains a great deal of fat. It almost resembles the marbling of beef…’

That sweet oiliness, somehow reminiscent of beef-bone broth, paired exceptionally well with the refreshing petals spread throughout the dish. Gio’s gaze naturally settled upon the Cheese Flower, whose shape resembled an azalea.

“……”

When he gently split a Cheese Flower apart, he realized that this “flower” had naturally grown in such a form.

“…The Cheese Flower…”

“Are you interested? Shall I obtain a seedling for you later?”

“Please do.”

“All right, then. I’ll buy you one on our way back after the trip.”

“Thank you.”

A flower that grew as cheese—what a notion, gathering every scrap of childhood innocence he did and did not possess to fill him with excitement. Was it not the sort of thing that appeared only in fairy-tale books he had read as a child?

‘Considering the laborious process humans use to make cheese, it is an exceptionally appealing flower.’

What was cheese, after all? Was it not the very symbol of effort, a tiny quantity obtained only after milk had been heated, worked, and worked again?

He could not help but marvel at such a processed food emerging whole as a flower. Its petals were thin and beautiful as a work of art.

‘What is the principle behind it? The flavor itself seems similar to Tête de Moine…’

It was a semihard cheese that retained its form, yet crumbled gently at a touch. It possessed milk’s characteristic softness and nuttiness, while boasting a strong nutty aroma and a pungent spiciness.

The Cheese Flower was slightly more pungent on the tip of the tongue, but not unpleasantly so. It merely refreshed the palate after the oily Ameura purée and the cheese’s characteristic richness.

‘The harmony is a work of art. Is the chef an Intangible Cultural Heritage holder?’

More than anything, the Cheese Flower was twice as sweet and nutty as Tête de Moine and carried a faint flavor of honey. It was the delicate sweetness one tasted after inverting an azalea blossom and sucking the nectar from it.

That paired almost frighteningly well with this flower salad. Gio grew excited at the thought of returning to the cabin and planting the flower.

“You look truly happy.”

“Yes.”

Why state something so obvious?

“Humans are naturally happiest when they eat.”

“Uh… are they?”

“I am, at least.”

It had been so ever since he picked up and ate the potatoes his grandmother roasted in the furnace. He could not escape this deeply sensory pleasure.

The fantastical courses continued afterward. A gratin rich with truffle aroma and French fries lightly topped with cheese. Brisket roasted slowly at a low temperature before being infused with the scent of wood, accompanied by garlic crisped into chips.

For French cuisine, which was famous for its richness, the course achieved an exquisite harmony and never became tiresome.

“Was it reasonably good?”

“It was not reasonably good. It was excellent.”

“I’m glad you seemed to enjoy it…”

If you intend to imitate a human, how about at least pretending to notice the people around you?

‘Humans are more social than you seem to believe…’

Yoo Seongwoon, who had endured all the gazes asking, “What in the world is that?” on Gio’s behalf, smiled bitterly.

(To be continued)