These days, Gio was providing the Saintess with a wide variety of experiences.
“And so, this is…?”
“Yes.”
Gio smiled brightly.
“Isn’t tteokbokki wonderful?”
“I heard it was commonly sold in Korea before the Great Calamity.”
“It pains me that it doesn’t seem to be sold very often these days.”
“These days…? How old did you say you were, Hunter Seo Gio?”
“That isn’t important. What matters is the tteokbokki before us.”
“Ah. Yes.”
The bishop looked at the tteokbokki served in a white bowl.
“I don’t believe there was any rice cake in our order.”
“I made and procured it myself. It had been a long time since I last made rice cakes, so I was worried, but fortunately they turned out well.”
At that, the Saintess Aram’s eyes sparkled.
“I’ve never eaten tteokbokki before.”
Gio’s expression turned grave.
“You’ve never eaten it?”
“No. Rice cakes are difficult to find.”
More than anything, the people of the Moon Church did not devote themselves to gastronomy—unless the food itself was the subject of research. To the Moon Church’s priests, food was no more than fuel. Luxuries such as rice cakes did not enter the temple often.
“We could have ordered them if we’d wanted. But many people say that rather than spending money on ingredients unnecessarily, they would prefer us to devote more effort to collecting research materials…”
Had even one person said, “But I want to eat this,” they would have acquired it. The Moon Church…