The rhythmic clack-clack of the Yamanote line felt like a metronome for Eishi's racing thoughts. The Tokyo outskirts were a blur of neon and shadow, but his internal map was fixed on a single coordinate.
A small, unassuming shop in the Sumire Avenue shopping district. The System hummed in the back of his mind, a golden interface displaying his newfound repertoire of skills, yet it pulsed with a specific hunger as he neared his destination.
He wasn't there for a Michelin-starred experience; he was there to harvest from the "Asura" and the "Unstoppable Storm."
The sliding door of the diner groaned as Eishi stepped inside. The air was a sharp contrast to the refined, sterile atmospheres of Tōtsuki.
It smelled of high-heat stir-fry, cheap soy sauce, and the unmistakable, chaotic energy of a kitchen that lived and died by its daily customers.
Seated at the counter were two figures who looked entirely out of place in a blue-collar diner.
One was a young girl with violet hair and eyes that seemed to contain entire galaxies, hidden behind oversized glasses and a low-slung cap.
The other was a woman with a striking, mature silhouette, wearing a tight top that—rather hilariously—had "Otona" printed across the chest in bold letters.
[Ding! Sign-In Successful.]
[Contact with Ai Hoshino established.]
[Reward: Permanent Charm +5 acquired.]
Eishi felt a subtle shift in his own aura. His features didn't change, but the way the light hit his face became more ethereal, his presence more magnetic. He turned his gaze to her, his "Divine-rank Omotenashi" allowing him to see the fracture lines in her soul.
[Ding! Sign-In Successful.]
[Contact with Otona Mitsuki established.]
[Reward: Harem Protagonist (EX-Rank) acquired.]
[Effect: Passive attraction triggered. Female characters will be naturally drawn to the Host regardless of intent.]
Eishi felt a heavy, almost gravitational pull settle into his skin.
Eishi's modern-day memories flickered. Ai Hoshino is from dark slice of life Oshi no Ko. And Otona Mitsuki from the Happening incident.
The "Divine-rank Sense of Smell" he had taken from Akira Hayama picked up their scents: Ai smelled of expensive idol perfume masked by cold sweat, while Otona smelled of lavender and a faint, nervous anxiety.
Eishi took a seat two stools away, his posture perfect, his presence commanding even in a simple coat.
As the two women whispered about the menu, Ai glanced at him, her "performance" mask slipping on instantly.
"The specials are usually the best bet here," Eishi said, his voice smooth and grounding.
Ai giggled, that practiced, sparkling sound. "You sound like you know your way around a kitchen, Mister!"
Eishi turned his gaze to her, his "Divine-rank Omotenashi" allowing him to see the fracture lines in her soul. "I do. And because I do, I know that the most beautiful garnishes often hide the bitterest ingredients."
"Customer—or should I say, 'Ai-san'—remember that in your world, not everything glittery is gold." Ai's smile faltered for a micro-second.
"Check the background of every door you open," Eishi continued, his voice dropping to a low, chilling register.
"Some men like to play the role of the innocent caretaker. They offer warmth and care, but deep down, they are architects of ruin. They find what is most precious to you—your light, your children, your future—and they break it just to see the colors of the shards. Don't let a 'glittery' type dim your stars."
The silence that followed was heavy. Ai's eyes widened, the stars in her pupils vibrating. She didn't know how he knew, but the warning felt like a cold blade pressed against her throat—not out of malice, but as a shield.
He then turned his head slightly toward the older woman, who was trying to hide behind a napkin. "And you," he remarked dryly. "If you're going to sneak around at night, to avoid 'accidents,' you might want to reconsider your wardrobe. A top that says 'OTONA' in big letters isn't exactly a masterclass in stealth. You lack disguise skills."
Otona's face flushing a deep crimson as she looked into Eishi's eyes, her heart racing for reasons she couldn't explain. She said while clutching her chest, "I... I just wanted a late snack," she stammered, unable to look away from his silver hair.
"Wear a long trench coat or a hooded tracksuit to disguise your body shape," Eishi advised, a hint of wit in his tone. "It might save you from messy moments. You are a idol and countless people could guess you from just your figure. Stay covered, and you'll stay out of trouble."
The kitchen door swung open. Sōma Yukihira marched out with a grin, followed by a man whose very presence felt like a mountain of condensed culinary intent: Jōichirō Saiba.
"Order up! Two special Yukihira Fried Rice for the ladies, and... oh?"
"Welcome! Take a seat anywhere!" Sōma shouted, his voice cracking slightly with adolescent energy.
He looked at Eishi, blinking at the stranger's intense, silver-haired appearance. "Whoa, you look like you stepped out of a movie or something. What can I get ya?"
Eishi looked at the young Sōma. At this stage, the boy hadn't even heard of Tōtsuki. He was just a diner brat with a hidden monster inside him. "The daily special, please. And a glass of water."
As Sōma reached over the counter to hand him a menu, Eishi brushed his hand against the boy's wrist.
[Ding! Sign-In Successful.]
[Reward: Adaptive Innovation (Master-rank) - The ability to create 5-star dishes out of scraps and 'disgusting' experimental failures.]
"Coming right up!" Sōma chirped, turning back to the stove.
Jōichirō stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Eishi. He sensed something—not a student, not a rival, but a predator.
"You've got a heavy air about you, young man. Not many people walk into a neighborhood joint like they're entering a throne room."
Eishi stood up and offered a hand. "I've traveled a long way to try the food of the man they once called the Asura."
Jōichirō froze for a second, then a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face. He took Eishi's hand in a firm, crushing grip.
[Ding! Sign-In Successful.] [Reward: Asura's Culinary Intent (Divine-rank) acquired.]
The weight of the reward was immense.
Eishi felt the dark, overwhelming pressure of Jōichirō's peak years flood his mind. It was the "heart" of a chef who had conquered the world and then burnt the map.
"I don't go by that name anymore," Jōichirō rumbled, releasing the hand. "But if you're hungry, stay. Sōma! Put some extra fire into that rice. Our guest has a very... demanding palate."
Eishi sat back, his "Harem Protagonist EX" trait already causing Ai and Otona to watch his every breath with captivated intensity. He was no longer just a chef; he was an anomaly in the timeline.