Kapitel 118: Lunch

Ugh, that was tiring. Group combat was just as I expected. Class B has some strong opponents, but they can't hold a candle to Isabella and Isadora. I glance around as I exit the gym, my steps quickening. Good, none of them seem to be after me. Time to get the hell out of here before some other annoyance crops up. Lysandra said she wanted to go to her room 'alone'. She's not a kid, but she is easily angered. I hope no one bothers her, she is probably heading to her dorm to watch that weird drama she's into.

I head straight for the cafeteria. Biana's snoozing in the gym, Isadora's doing her personal training, and everyone else is in class. A devilish grin spreads across my face. Hehehe~ That means the cafeteria is all mine. What to make~ What to make~

I swing open the kitchen door, pondering my options. You know what? Given all the crap that's happened today, I deserve some comfort food. "I don't know if it's because of all the shit that's gone down, but I'm going to make some top-notch pizza. Right, Ilka?" I pause, my hand hovering over the counter. "Oh, wait, you can't eat."

Ilka rolls her eyes from her perch on my head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "This is so unfair, you know. I wanted to see the duels. Ugh, I'm tired of being stuck with you. Oh, by the way, you're training twice as hard from here on out."

My eyes scan the array of ingredients spread before me. "Fine, fine, I get it. You're bored. How about a deluxe pizza to entertain my taste buds and some buffalo wings?"

I sigh as I start gathering the ingredients. "Training twice as hard, huh? I should've seen that coming. Knowing you, you'll make it as torturous as possible."

Ilka cackles softly, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and excitement. "Oh, you have no idea. I'm going to teach you some fun ways to manipulate and use aura. This school is ridiculous, not teaching that until you're a sophomore or junior. So, brace yourself, it's going to hurt~"

I wince a little at her words. Great, more pain. Just what I needed. "Alright, fine. But what about Lysandra? Can I teach her some of the stuff you've taught me?"

Ilka raises her eyebrows as if I've just suggested something absurd. "What are you, fucking stupid? She's a dragon! Dragons don't need any of that nonsense. Stick to teaching her some basic techniques. My specialized footwork will just hinder her growth."

I shrug, taking Ilka's words to heart as I lay out the array of ingredients on the counter. Now, for this pizza. Alright, blue tomatoes, check. These tomatoes might look weird, but they've got that tart and tangy flavor that works great for a pizza sauce. I grab a knife and start slicing them into smaller pieces. They have to be fine, but not too fine. I want some texture, not soup.

I toss the diced tomatoes into a heated pan, drizzling a bit of olive oil. As they sizzle, I throw in some chopped garlic, salt, and some weird herb that resembles basil but has a slightly spicier aroma. "Gotta add a little kick to it," I mutter to myself, thinking how this will cut through the richness of the cheese.

While the sauce simmers, I turn my attention to the dough. Flour, yeast, salt, and water—nothing complicated here. "Now for the kneading. Fuck, I hate this part," I grumble as I start working the dough. It's a pain, but it's crucial for that chewy texture I love. You can't cut corners when you're making pizza.

With the dough set aside to rise, I focus on the toppings. Grilled chicken, spicy sausage, and some local vegetables that are like bell peppers but a bit sweeter. I also find a cheese that's somewhat like mozzarella but melts in a way that's just heavenly. "Might as well go all out," I say, layering the toppings generously.

Finally, I assemble everything on a pizza stone. A good, thick layer of sauce, an avalanche of cheese, and mountains of toppings. Into the oven it goes.

While the pizza's cooking, my thoughts drift to something I've been curious about for a while. Making soda, of all things. Water, sugar, and some flavoring are all I need. But the kicker? I plan to use a bit of magic to carbonate it. "Time to experiment," I muse.

I grab a glass and fill it with water. Focusing my mana, I utter a small incantation, imagining the water fizzing with bubbles. I carefully channel the magic, and sure enough, the water starts to fizz. "Holy shit, it worked," I exclaim, marveling at my magical prowess.

I quickly mix in some sugar and a dash of lemon flavor, taking a cautious sip. The carbonation is perfect, tingling against my tongue just right. "Fuck, I'm a genius." Wait, I could make a fortune out of this. Hmm, I don't have time at the moment, I'll think it through after our gun project.

Taking another sip of my magically carbonated drink, I can't help but revel in my own genius. "Damn, this is good. I should definitely try making some cola next time." A moment's thought steals me away from my culinary triumph, and I'm mentally back on the next dish. Buffalo wings. I scratch my chin. "Shit, they don't have buffalo sauce here. How the hell do I make it from scratch? Do I even remember the recipe?"

I shake my head and snort. "Screw it, guess I'm winging it—no pun intended."

I start scanning the available ingredients. They've got some weird-looking chickens here, all different types with various textures. After some consideration, I opt for a breed that looks like it'll have some extra crispiness when fried. "You look delicious," I tell the chicken pieces, patting them as though they can hear me.

I get a pot of oil heating up on the stove for deep frying. While I wait, I start working on the batter. Flour, some local herbs that smell like they'd add a good zing, and a dash of salt. "Now, I could use water for this batter, but then I remember the trick about using soda for extra crispiness. Why the hell not?" I say, pouring some of my magically carbonated water into the mix.

Once the oil's ready, I dip each piece of chicken into the batter, making sure it's well-coated before letting it slide into the bubbling cauldron. "Oh man, listen to that sizzle. Music to my ears," I murmur, my stomach growling in anticipation.

While the chicken fries, I contemplate the sauce. "Buffalo sauce is basically hot sauce and butter, right? But what can I use to replace hot sauce?" My eyes land on some small, red peppers that look like they could set your mouth on fire just by staring at you. "Perfect."

I grab a handful of these peppers and toss them into a blender. To counterbalance the heat, I add some garlic, a dash of vinegar, and a squirt of a citrus fruit that reminds me of lemon but has a deeper, almost smoky flavor. "Time to make this thing interesting," I think, blending it into a puree.

I pour the fiery mixture into a pan and set it on low heat. "Now for the butter," I say, cutting a generous amount and letting it melt into the sauce, stirring it until it's a uniform, fiery red liquid. "Fuck, that looks dangerous. I love it."

My eyes flicker to the oven. The pizza should be done. "Ah, fuck it, it can wait another minute," I decide, focusing on finishing the sauce. I taste it and my mouth almost explodes. "Holy shit, that's spicy. But damn good."

Finally, the chicken is done. Golden brown and tempting. "Oh, you beauties are gonna taste so good," I say, draining them on a paper towel before tossing them in a bowl.

Pouring my homemade buffalo sauce over the fried chicken, I give them a good toss, ensuring each piece is thoroughly coated. "And voilà, culinary masterpiece complete."

I take a quick peek in the oven and grin as I see the melted cheese bubbling over the pizza toppings. "Today is a fucking good day," I declare, pulling it out and setting it next to my newly made buffalo wings. Hehehe~ And the best part, I don't have to share with that lizard, cat, and sloth.

Taking a seat, I marvel at my handiwork. Two dishes and a drink, all completed under my magical culinary skills. "Ilka, prepare to be jealous," I say, biting into a wing.

Ilka just rolls her eyes. "Sure, make me jealous of something I can't even enjoy. But remember, tonight's training is going to be brutal."

Taking a bite out of the pizza, the flavors explode in my mouth. God, this is so good. The blue tomatoes, the spices, the cheese—every ingredient sings in perfect harmony. I deserve this. I'm practically dancing in my seat, my head bobbing back and forth as I savor each bite.

I have no friends in this godforsaken place. Biana? A parasite. Isadora? A culinary freeloader. Lysandra? Well, she's her own brand of complicated. But right now, this food is my companion, and it's a fucking good one.

Just as I'm reaching nirvana-level enjoyment, a voice slices through my reverie like a hot knife. "What a weird dish. Is it so good it makes you leave your guard down?"

No no no nooo! Dammit! I freeze, pizza still in hand. Shit. That voice. I'd know it anywhere. It's the voice of Raelle, the student body president. Fuck me, why is she here!? I did everything I could to keep a low profile!

Swallowing the heavenly mouthful, I pivot in my seat to find both Raelle and Elith, the vice president, standing there. Both of them reek of self-importance. "Um, I'm sorry, but this is the cafeteria for Class A. Other students aren't allowed in here unless someone from this class allows you," I say, hoping they'll get the damn hint and leave.

Raelle moves closer, her wavy hair a blend of black and purple that trails down her back. Her eyes, a lighter shade of purple, are locked onto mine. She's a teaser; if she's not doing anything important, she's anything but serious. She loves making people squirm. "Hahaha, are you saying you don't know who we are, hmmm?"

Elith, blond and green-eyed—the classic high noble—takes a seat. By my food. My perfect lunch is ruined. "Ooh, this is new. I've never seen a dish like this before; you made this?" he asks, eyeing my pizza and wings as if they were some sort of lab specimens.

"Hey—" My attempt to interject is abruptly cut short as Raelle slams her hands on the table, forcing me to scoot over with her sheer audacity. "Oh ho ho~ This is something alright~" she chimes, snatching a slice of my meticulously crafted pizza as if it were community property.

You've got to be kidding me. That's my fucking pizza, I think, the regret of not hiding my culinary marvels washing over me. Before I can even blink, Raelle sinks her teeth into the slice.

"mmm~ it's delicious," she coos, savoring the flavors that I slaved over. I feel a piece of my soul die a little.

Elith grabs Raelle's arm, "Hey! Don't go eating other people's food without their permission! Haven't I told you that's disrespectful?" The 'apology' falls flat as he proceeds to snatch one of my buffalo wings and take a bite.

Hey V, I'm sorry about her, as you can see, she's very... well, that," Elith gestures at Raelle, who's now chewing blissfully.

I'm just speechless. What the fuck is wrong with this guy! Apologizing for her while munching on my food? It's like watching someone apologize for theft while they're robbing you. I feel my eyes moisten a bit, and I have to force back a tear. I can't believe this; they're decimating the best dish I've made all week.

I sigh, resigning myself to the situation. There's no way out of this circus now. "Uuuggh, so what brings you here, student body president Raelle?" I ask, barely keeping the irritation out of my voice. My hand involuntarily clenches into a fist under the table. I want to punch something—preferably them.

"See, I told you he'd recognize us at first sight, you better pay up," Raelle says, grinning slyly at Elith.

Elith munches on another of my buffalo wings, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Tsk, fine, I'll pay you. But to be able to recognize us that quickly, you have to be a junior or senior, unless you're well-informed. Ninety-seven percent of all the freshmen know our names but can't recognize us at first glance."

I'm screaming internally. Not just for the violated personal space and stolen food, but also because these two clearly underestimate me. And then Raelle opens her mouth again.

"Hehehe~ Did you think we wouldn't notice someone like you just by your basic physical performance alone? V, according to your file, despite never training under any school before entering the academy, you are able to keep up with the speed of Mira. You have an intriguing talent for both mana and aura, you did not seek any sponsor when entering the academy, you were able to lead your class to some extent during your test, you have managed to befriend both Isadora and Biana who are considered the most difficult freshmen to deal with. I mean, Biana tells everyone to fuck themselves, and Isadora isn't willing to make any connections. That girl Lysandra who recently entered the Academy is your friend as well, correct? We sent someone to talk to her, however... they got their heads rammed into a wall. For I quote, 'Fuck out of here, I need to see what Marco is going to do!' is what she said. V, you are at the center of all of this. It is without a doubt impressive, that's why we're here~ You can't hide from me by acting all weak~."

My brows furrow. Did this bitch go through every second of my time in school? "You know, some of that information shouldn't be public, Unless you're my homeroom professor you shouldn't have access to that much information regarding my recent actions. How'd you get it?"