Chapter 26: The Thai God of War, Kaolan
"Turn him into a milkshake? And feed it to Cerberus?"
Erina Nakiri sat frozen in her seat, blinking rapidly. She looked at Ren's smiling face, then at the muscular, terrifying man named Raian who had actually paled slightly at the threat.
For a moment, the air in the restaurant was thick with a strange tension. Erina couldn't tell if Ren was joking. The silver-haired chef had a gentle demeanor, but the way he casually delivered such a brutal ultimatum—and the way the dangerous Kure members accepted it as a valid, terrifying possibility—sent a shiver down her spine.
Is this shopkeeper... actually a retired hitman? Erina wondered, clutching her silver spoon a little tighter until her knuckles turned white. Or perhaps a Yakuza cleaner? No, his hands are too gentle for that. But that aura...
"Tch. Boring," Raian scoffed, breaking the silence. He slumped back into his chair, crossing his powerful arms over his chest. "You're no fun anymore, Ren. You used to be more bloodthirsty. Civilization has made you soft."
"And you used to be quieter," Ren retorted effortlessly, picking up the empty water pitcher from a nearby table. "Sit tight. If you break a table, you're buying me ten new ones. Mahogany. And if you scare the other customers, I'm charging you a 'Nuisance Tax'."
With that, Ren turned and walked back into the kitchen, the navy blue noren curtains swaying gently behind him.
Kobayashi Rindou giggled, seeing Erina's pale face. She leaned over, resting her chin on her palm. "Don't worry, Erina-chan! Ren-kun is just teasing. Well... mostly. He only turns people into milkshakes on Tuesdays, and today is Friday! You're safe!"
"That doesn't make me feel better, Kobayashi-senpai!" Erina hissed, trying to regain her composure.
As the atmosphere settled back into a hum of conversation, the kitchen came alive.
Sizzle.
The sound of meat hitting a scorching hot grill echoed through the dining area. It was a heavy, aggressive sound—the sound of protein being seared to perfection. It wasn't the gentle bubbling of a stew; it was the violent kiss of fire on flesh.
Along with it came the unmistakable aroma of roasting beef, cumin, garlic, and charcoal smoke. It was a primal scent that bypassed the logic center of the brain and went straight to the stomach.
Raian, who had been drumming his fingers impatiently on the table like a bomb waiting to detonate, immediately stopped. His nostrils flared. His eyes, with their black sclera and white irises, locked onto the kitchen door like a predator sensing blood.
"Finally," Raian grinned, exposing his gums in a savage expression. "Feed me!"
Ren emerged from the kitchen. He wasn't carrying a tray. He was pushing a large, three-tiered stainless steel trolley because a single tray simply wasn't enough for the Kure Clan's 'Devil'.
"Here is your fuel," Ren said, his voice calm amidst the gluttonous anticipation. He began placing plate after plate onto Raian's table until the wood groaned under the weight.
"Brazilian Barbecue (Churrasco)—heavy on the Picanha and Garlic Steak. Water Boiled Beef (Shui Zhu Niu Rou) with extra ghost peppers to burn out your bad attitude. A Steak Salad (because I pretend to care about your health). A Grilled Skirt Steak with Chimichurri. And..."
Ren lifted a heavy wooden lid. Steam billowed out.
He placed a massive wooden tub of rice—equivalent to six large bowls—in front of Kure Raian.
"...your carbohydrates."
[Akarin's Note: Brazilian Barbecue (Churrasco) involves grilling various cuts of meat, often on skewers. Picanha is the prime cut of the top sirloin cap, prized for its thick layer of fat that renders down to baste the meat.]
Erina, Hisako, and Momo watched in stunned silence. Their mouths hung slightly open.
"Six bowls of rice? Plus four meat dishes?" Hisako whispered, adjusting her glasses as if they were malfunctioning. "That... that is enough to feed a family of five for two days! Is he planning to pack it for leftovers?"
Kobayashi Rindou, however, didn't blink. She sat nearby, waiting for her own seconds, completely unfazed.
Erina leaned close to Rindou, whispering, "Kobayashi-senpai... don't you think it's strange? Is he... is he human? No normal human stomach can hold that much mass without rupturing."
Kobayashi Rindou chuckled, waving a breadstick like a conductor's baton. "You mean his appetite? It's quite normal for the Kure Clan. Because of their 'Selective Breeding' over a thousand years, their metabolism is like a blast furnace. They burn calories just by existing."
She pointed to the mountain of meat with her fork. "This? This is actually considered a light snack for him. He's probably just eating to pass the time before his 'playdate' arrives."
Erina and the others were dumbfounded. A light snack?!
They looked at Raian's physique again. His white suit struggled to contain his muscles, and veins bulged like steel cables under his skin. He radiated an aura of violence and hunger.
Looking at it this way, Ren—with his normal silver eyes, elegant chef's uniform, and gentlemanly demeanor—really did look more and more handsome and safe by comparison. Ren was civilization; Raian was the wild.
Raian didn't care about the girls' whispers. He didn't care about etiquette. He only cared about the meat.
He picked up a heavy metal skewer of the Charcoal-Grilled Picanha. The meat was curved into a 'C' shape, the thick fat cap golden and glistening, dripping hot savory juices onto the plate. The outer layer was charred dark brown, crusted with rock salt, while the inside promised a perfect medium-rare pink.
Raian grinned. He didn't use a fork. He didn't use a knife. He brought the skewer directly to his mouth.
Chomp.
"Oh..."
His expression froze.
The fat exploded in his mouth, coating his tongue in rich, beefy oil. The cumin and rock salt crust provided a crunchy contrast to the tender, melting meat. It was primal. It was savage. It was perfect.
Chew. Swallow. Chomp. Swallow.
Raian became a tireless eating machine. He didn't eat with the elegance of a noble; he ate like a wolf that had just taken down a bison. Bones were stripped clean in seconds. Rice vanished by the shovel-full. He tore into the meat with a ferocity that was almost frightening to watch.
"Hoo~ Ugh! Ren! Ren!"
Raian suddenly started pounding his massive chest, his face turning a shade of purple. He had swallowed a whole steak without chewing enough.
"I hear you, I hear you. Why are you eating so fast? The food isn't going to run away. It's dead."
Ren walked over calmly, as if he expected this routine, and placed a large pitcher of ice water in front of Kure Raian.
Raian grabbed it and chugged the entire thing in one go—two liters of water vanishing in five seconds.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Slam!
"Phew! Haa..." Raian slammed the empty pitcher down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your cooking is delicious, kid! Seriously! If you weren't so annoying, I'd kidnap you to the Kure Village. You cook better than our clan chefs! Don't tell them I said that."
Karura and Kure Fusui, sitting at a nearby table, both blushed at these words, embarrassed by their relative's lack of manners.
"Raian! Don't be rude to Ren! And don't talk with your mouth full!" Karura shouted, her cheeks puffed out.
Ren just rolled his eyes. "I'd rather jump into a volcano than live in your village of muscle-heads. Do you want to add anything else? While I'm still in a good mood."
Raian looked at the rapidly disappearing mountain of meat. He grinned, showing all his teeth, a glint of challenge in his eyes.
"Then add one Eight-Flavor Integrated Magic Mapo Tofu!"
Ren paused. He glanced at the meat-heavy table.
"Be careful of excessive protein intake... you'll get gout before you're thirty. Eight-Flavor Integrated Magic Mapo Tofu, right? What spice level?"
"Hell spicy! Make me regret being born!"
"That's your style. Wait for it."
Ren walked back to the kitchen.
Minutes later, a pungent, aggressive aroma wafted out. It started as a tickle in the nose, then transformed into a full-blown assault. It was the scent of Sichuan peppercorns, fermented broad bean paste (doubanjiang), and searing hot chili oil. It was an aroma that made the mouth water defensively.
When Ren brought out the sizzling clay pot, the tofu was bubbling in a sea of angry red oil, topped with vibrant green garlic scapes and ground beef. The heat radiating from it distorted the air.
Raian didn't hesitate. He scooped a large spoonful of the boiling tofu and shoved it into his mouth.
Slurp.
"Ugh! Cough, cough, cough! Awesome!"
With one bite, veins popped out on Raian's forehead. Sweat beaded instantly on his nose.
"Hot! Spicy! Numbing! It burns!"
The Eight Flavors—Fresh, Lively, Tender, Crispy, Numbing, Spicy, Hot, and Fragrant—assaulted his senses. It was like fighting a battle inside his mouth. The numbing spice (mala) paralyzed his tongue for a second before the savory umami of the meat crashed in.
[Akarin's Note: Magic Mapo Tofu is a legendary dish from Food Wars! (Shokugeki no Soma), known for balancing eight specific flavor profiles perfectly.]
Kure Fusui, playing with a straw in her milkshake and propping her chin with her hand, said dryly, "I told you to read more books; your vocabulary is pathetic. You only said 'awesome'~"
Kure Raian ignored her and continued eating by himself, sweating profusely but unable to stop.
Everyone swallowed ungracefully, especially Erina. She knew Ren was amazing, but seeing Raian's visceral reaction made her God Tongue vibrate in anticipation. She wanted to taste that fire. She wanted to understand that complexity.
"Ren!" she called out involuntarily, her voice a mix of demand and pleading.
Ren didn't speak immediately. He calmly walked back to the kitchen and returned pushing another trolley.
"Alright. No need to rush. This is for Miss Nakiri and your group. This is for Karura and your group. Cerberus, Lucifer, this is your late-night snack~"
After everything was served, the entire Restaurant was instantly filled with a symphony of aromas.
Erina, completely abandoning her ladylike demeanor, immediately picked up her utensils. She reached for the Roasted Venison in front of her.
She cut a piece and put it in her mouth.
"Mmm!"
Her eyes sparkled.
"There's no gamey or musky smell from the venison at all. It's roasted, but why is the texture of the meat as soft as a top-grade soufflé cake! The subtle milky and buttery flavors are also a perfect match! They make the sauce's flavor even mellower! What kind of sauce is this? Why can't I identify any of the ingredients! It's too delicious!"
Erina spoke involuntarily as she ate, analyzing out loud, but no one listened. Everyone was immersed in their own sea of delicious food.
Ren sat calmly on the side, picking up a fishing magazine. Lucifer ate her ice cream, watching Ren with a slight, affectionate smile.
Just as the atmosphere reached a peak of culinary chaos...
Creak...
The front door opened.
It wasn't slammed open like Raian would do. It was opened steadily, politely, but with a weight that commanded attention.
Everyone froze. Even Erina, who was busy analyzing her Venison, looked up.
Under everyone's puzzled gaze, a tall, muscular man walked in.
He had dark skin, distinctive white tattoos under his eyes, and a very lazy, almost bored demeanor. He was dressed in a sharp, expensive suit that fit his athletic frame perfectly. He carried himself not with the wild aggression of Raian, but with the calm, terrifying stillness of a dormant volcano.
When Akanegakubo Momo, who was happily eating her Veal Blanquette, saw him, she dropped her spoon.
Clang.
She immediately shouted, her eyes wide with recognition. "Kaolan Wongsawat?!"
[Akarin's Note: Kaolan Wongsawat (also spelled Gaolang) is the Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the World from Kengan Ashura, known as the Thai God of War.]
The man at the door paused. He nodded politely to the small girl.
"Yes."
He walked inside, his movements fluid and precise. He glanced at Kure Raian. Their eyes locked for a second—a spark of electricity crackled between the Kure Devil and the Thai God of War. Raian grinned, bloodthirsty excitement rising in his eyes. Kaolan remained expressionless.
Then, Kaolan turned to Ren, who was leaning against the counter, reading a fishing magazine.
Kaolan lazily said, his voice deep and calm, "I'm here."
Ren nodded. He stood up, closing his magazine.
"Since you're here, does that mean it's time to fight? Find a seat yourself~"
"Yeah. This will do."
Kaolan found a table next to Kure Raian—dangerously close. He sat down and took off his suit jacket, revealing a white shirt that struggled to contain his muscles. He twisted his neck.
Crack.
"Can I order now?"
"Anytime~"
The two spoke very casually, as if they were old friends meeting at a local diner, not a legendary chef and the heavyweight champion of the world.
Akanegakubo Momo immediately tugged at Kobayashi Rindou's sleeve.
"Rindou-senpai!" she whispered frantically, her eyes shining. "It's Kaolan! The Thai God of War! The Boxer! Why is he here?! He's the current Heavyweight Champion!"
Kobayashi Rindou glanced over, unfazed, wiping sweat from her spicy meal. "I know. I've been here many times. Everyone's pretty familiar. He comes here for the curry."
She waved her chopsticks cheerfully. "Hey! Kaolan!"
Kaolan turned his head slowly. "Kobayashi Rindou? What is it?"
"Ren is in a good mood today! You know what I mean! Ask for the special!"
"Oh?" Kaolan's bored eyes lit up slightly, a glint of anticipation breaking his stoic mask.
Akanegakubo Momo was stunned. Good heavens, she thought, looking around the room. First the Kure Clan assassins... now the Heavyweight Champion of the World? Who else is coming to this shop? The Prime Minister? Or an alien?
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