The first ones to stand up were not the chefs.
⠀It was the children.
⠀Two boys and a little girl who had been allowed to sit together with their mothers were still staring at the table, eyes wide, hands clutching their stomachs.
⠀"…Mama," one of them whispered, "is it… Really over?"
⠀His mother laughed weakly and gently patted his head.
⠀"It is. You've eaten enough for two days."
⠀"But… but it was so good…"
⠀The little girl nodded so hard her short hair bounced.
⠀"I liked the crunchy ones!"
⠀"The long thin ones?" another child asked immediately.
⠀"No! The soft bread with the melted inside!"
⠀"I liked the meat!"
⠀"I liked everything!"
⠀Their innocent argument made several of the women laugh, though their eyes were still wet.
⠀One of the widows covered her mouth and said quietly,
⠀"…If their father were still here… I wish he could have tasted this at least once."
⠀Another woman nodded, her voice trembling.
⠀"…My son has never eaten meat like that. Not even during festivals."
⠀Nearby, the waitresses were in no better condition.
⠀"I kept telling myself to eat slowly," one of them said, pressing a hand to her chest, "but every time I swallowed, I wanted another bite."
⠀"The sauces… did you notice? Even the simple vegetables tasted completely different."
⠀"And those fried ones… I swear, if they sold only that, people would still line up from morning till night."
⠀One of them glanced down at her hands and laughed in disbelief.
⠀"…I've served food my whole life. But today is the first time I felt like my tongue was being taught something new."
⠀The cleaners were quieter, but their reactions were even more honest.
⠀They sat back in their chairs, hands on their bellies, faces filled with a mixture of satisfaction and fear.
⠀"…Is it really alright for us to eat like this?"
⠀"…If this is just for staff…"
⠀"…What kind of place is this restaurant supposed to be?"
⠀One of them looked at her children and said softly,
⠀"…I'll work hard. No matter what they ask."
⠀Only after all that did the chefs finally begin to speak.
⠀At first, it was just murmurs.
⠀"…That meat…"
⠀"…The heat control…"
⠀"…No, even before that — the preparation was strange."
⠀Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they started arguing in earnest.
⠀"There were herbs in that sauce. I'm sure of it."
⠀"Of course there were. But not the usual kind. The fragrance was cleaner."
⠀"There was something sour, but not vinegar."
⠀"Could it be fruit?"
⠀"If it was, then why didn't it clash with the fat?"
⠀They leaned closer to each other, voices low, eyes sharp.
⠀"And the bread," one of them said. "How do you make it that soft without it collapsing?"
⠀"The inside was full of air, but it wasn't dry."
⠀"That requires perfect fermentation. Perfect timing."
⠀"…And the meat was still juicy."
⠀"…And hot."
⠀"…But not overcooked. Not even a little."
⠀They fell silent.
⠀No matter how many times they replayed it in their minds, none of them could reach a clear answer.
⠀One of the older chefs finally exhaled slowly.
⠀"…Now I understand."
⠀The others looked at him.
⠀"…Understand what?"
⠀"…Why was the contract so strict?"
⠀His gaze was no longer confused. It was burning.
⠀"If even a fragment of this leaks… even a single method… the entire city will be turned upside down."
⠀Another chef laughed bitterly.
⠀"Leak? At this point, I'm more worried about whether we can even reproduce one-tenth of it."
⠀"…We couldn't even guess half the ingredients."
⠀"…We couldn't even guess the techniques."
⠀Someone muttered quietly, almost in awe,
⠀"…So this is what we're being hired for."
⠀Not to cook.
⠀But to learn.
⠀
The low, excited murmurs continued even as people slowly began to stand up.
⠀No one looked like they wanted to leave.
⠀It was then that a man's voice cut cleanly through the noise.
⠀"Everyone, if I may have your attention."
⠀They turned.
⠀A middle-aged man in neat, practical uniform stood near the exit, his posture straight and his expression calm.
⠀"I am one of the gatekeepers in charge of the staff dormitory," he said. "Please gather your belongings and follow me."
⠀A small stir ran through the group.
⠀"Dormitory…?"
⠀"…So we're going there now?"
⠀"Yes," the man nodded. "From today onward, that will be where you stay."
⠀For a second, there was silence.
⠀Then—
⠀"Free…?"
⠀"One of the cleaners asked it carefully, as if afraid of breaking a dream.
⠀The gatekeeper gave a small smile.
⠀"Meals and lodging are included in your contract."
⠀The reaction was immediate.
⠀"You hear that? A roof over our heads!"
⠀"I don't have to worry about next month's rent anymore…!"
⠀"My children won't have to sleep in the cold…"
⠀"Is this really alright…? All of this feels too good to be true…"
⠀The waitresses exchanged excited looks.
⠀"So we'll all be together?"
⠀"That makes morning shifts much easier!"
⠀One of the chefs laughed.
⠀"At this rate, even if they worked us to death, I wouldn't complain."
⠀"Don't say something so frightening," another immediately shot back, though he was smiling.
⠀They quickly gathered their few belongings, some of them doing it with hands that still trembled slightly.
⠀And then, in a long, lively group, they followed the gatekeeper out into the night.
⠀The air was cool.
⠀But their steps were light.
⠀Along the way, the chatter never stopped.
⠀"Do you think the rooms are shared?"
⠀"As long as there's a bed, I'm grateful."
⠀"I've never lived in a noble estate before…"
⠀"My kids are going to brag about this."
⠀After a short walk, the gatekeeper stopped.
⠀They had arrived.
⠀But before anyone could even look properly at the dormitory…
⠀Their eyes were stolen by something else.
⠀Right next to it stood a massive structure still under construction.
⠀Even though it was already late at night, the place was brightly lit by magical lamps, and workers were moving about, carrying materials, hammering, lifting, building.
⠀"…They're still working at this hour?"
⠀"…What is that…?"
⠀Someone swallowed.
⠀The gatekeeper followed their gazes and said simply,
⠀"That is the restaurant."
⠀For a moment, no one spoke.
⠀Then—
⠀"That's… a restaurant?"
⠀"You're joking…"
⠀"That's bigger than some noble mansions!"
⠀"And it's just for… serving food?"
⠀They stared at the enormous framework, the wide walls, the grand layout that could already be felt even before it was finished.
⠀One of the chefs muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief,
⠀"…So this is the scale we're working on."
⠀A waitress whispered,
⠀"…No wonder the contract was that serious."
⠀The sound of construction echoed through the night.
⠀And in their chests, excitement quietly grew into something heavier.
⠀Something closer to determination.
And to guard that knowledge.
The gatekeeper led them forward, and they finally passed through the dormitory gates.
⠀The moment they stepped inside, the noise of construction faded a little, replaced by a calmer, quieter atmosphere.
⠀The path was clean, the lamps were bright, and the place felt… orderly.
⠀Almost too orderly.
⠀They walked only a short distance before reaching the main building.
⠀As soon as they entered, the first thing they saw was a large room to the right.
⠀It was spacious, far larger than any common room most of them had ever seen.
⠀"…What is this place?" one of the waitresses whispered.
⠀"Dining hall?"
⠀"Meeting room?"
⠀"Don't tell me this is just an entrance…"
⠀Before the gatekeeper could answer, footsteps came from inside the room.
⠀Then, a woman appeared.
⠀She was a middle-aged woman with a plump, comforting figure, her cheeks round and her expression warm but sharp at the same time. Her hair was neatly tied up, and her clothes were clean and practical, the kind worn by someone who managed things rather than merely lived in them.
⠀She wiped her hands on her apron as she walked over and looked at them one by one, her eyes quick and experienced.
⠀"Oh? So these are the new ones?"
⠀Her voice was loud, but not unpleasant.
⠀She straightened her back and said,
⠀"My name is Martha. I am the dormitory mother here."
⠀"…Dormitory mother?"
⠀"Yes," Martha nodded firmly. "I'm in charge of this place. Your rooms, your meals here, your daily discipline. If something breaks, you tell me. If someone causes trouble, I'll hear about it. And if someone gets sick, I'll be the first to know."
⠀She crossed her arms under her ample chest and looked around again.
⠀"…Hmm. You look better fed than I expected. That's good."
⠀A few people laughed nervously.
⠀Martha's eyes softened slightly.
⠀"Don't worry. As long as you follow the rules, you'll live comfortably here."
⠀The gatekeeper gave a small cough.
⠀"Shall we continue?"
⠀Martha nodded.
⠀"Come in, come in. Standing in the entrance won't get you any sleep."
⠀She turned and began to walk deeper inside, and the group followed, still a little stiff, but now mixed with a strange, unfamiliar sense of… relief.
Martha stopped near the entrance and pointed toward the large room on the right.
⠀"The room you see there is the washroom."
⠀They all turned to look.
⠀"It only has flowing water inside, but it's big enough for all of you," she continued. "Whenever you enter the dormitory, you will wash your hands and feet here first. That is a rule of this place."
⠀Her expression turned serious.
⠀"We don't want any outside filth inside the dormitory. This is where you leave it behind. So please, make your way there."
⠀They looked at each other, then nodded one by one.
⠀Slowly, the group began to enter the washroom.
⠀The moment they stepped inside, several of them froze.
⠀The floor was covered in clean, pale tiles that reflected the light above. The entire room was brightly lit by magic lamps set into the walls, leaving no corner in shadow. Along one side of the wall were multiple faucets made of polished metal, evenly spaced, each with clear water flowing gently from it.
⠀The air itself felt fresh.
⠀"…It's… so clean…"
⠀"…This is just a washroom…?"
⠀Some of the children stared openly, eyes wide.
⠀"…It's brighter than our house…" one of them whispered.
⠀They hesitated at first, as if afraid to dirty the place. Then, one by one, they rolled up their sleeves and trousers and began to wash.
⠀Water splashed softly.
⠀Hands that had worked for years.
⠀Feet that had walked through dust and mud.
⠀Everything was washed away here.
⠀There was something strangely ceremonial about it.
⠀When they finished, their hands felt lighter. Their steps felt lighter too.
⠀After that, they returned to the main hall.
⠀Martha clapped her hands once to gather their attention.
⠀"Listen well. The ground floor is only for utility. There is no living space here. Your rooms are upstairs."
⠀She pointed to the right.
⠀"The communal kitchen is that way."
⠀She led them in.
⠀The moment they stepped inside, a collective gasp escaped the group.
⠀The kitchen was… enormous.
⠀The floor was tiled just like the washroom, clean and bright. Along one wall stood twelve stoves, all lined up neatly. There were four large basins with running water. In the center was a massive cutting table, big enough for several people to work at the same time. Shelves covered the walls, already prepared to hold ingredients and tools.
⠀And in one corner stood a strange, box-like magical device.
⠀"…What is that?"
⠀"…I've never seen something like it…"
⠀They approached it carefully, as if it might suddenly move.
⠀Martha noticed their stares and smiled, her chest puffing up slightly with pride.
⠀"That is a fridge," she said. "It's a magic machine that keeps food cold so it can be preserved for a long time."
⠀She added, as if it were the most natural thing in the world,
⠀"It was invented by the young lady."
⠀For a second, no one spoke.
⠀Then—
⠀"…She invented… this…?"
⠀"…The owner…?"
⠀"…Just how many things does she know…?"
⠀Some of the chefs walked around it, eyes shining like children who had discovered a new toy.
⠀"…With this, we could keep meat for days…"
⠀"…No, even longer…"
⠀
⠀The waitresses and cleaners looked around the kitchen again, and this time their gazes were no longer just surprised.
⠀They were filled with something closer to awe.
⠀"…So even where we live…" one of them murmured, "…is prepared like this."
⠀Martha crossed her arms and nodded, satisfied with their reactions.
⠀"This is a place for those who work properly to live properly."
⠀She then turned back toward the hall.
⠀