The Peninsula's main kitchen had finally gone quiet. Dinner service was over. The last tickets were done. Rick stood alone at the premium prep station.
He was in a good mood.
While he casually wiped down the pitch-black, Damascus steel blade of his Shadow-Forged Cleaver with a clean white cloth, feeling satisfied with the dominance he had displayed throughout the day, and now nobody in the entire kitchen dared to question his authority anymore.
"Another one bites the dust, yeah another one bites the dust, and another one down, and another one coming up..."
"Hey, I'm gonna get you too, you will also bite the dust…"
He felt completely amused by how easily these arrogant frogs in a well kept walking right into his palms.
'Tomorrow, I am sure I will get another chance,'
Just then, Rick was done cleaning his cleavers and was about to head back up to his penthouse to get some rest, when the familiar system chime violently echoed directly inside his skull
[Ding!]
