Shelly made a tutting sound in his mind that he chose to ignore while making another purchase through the system mall.

Gloria accepted the cookies and drink with the enthusiasm of a child receiving candy. She bit into a cookie, and her expression bloomed like those in ads, a bliss.

"Oh, these are really great, no matter how much I ate them," she breathed. "What are they made of? Where did the recipe come from?" 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"I—" Neville admitted reluctantly. "The recipe is... sort of an experiment."

It wasn’t technically a lie.

Even if there were already-made ones from Earth on the system mall, it was still expensive. Therefore, he was only left to do the hard work in recreating them, even though he didn’t even attend a single cooking class.

Only by relying on his random memory of some cooking reels and MeTube videos to get the gist of ingredients. Either way, it was still a try-fail cycle.

Gloria devoured two more cookies in quick succession, not even bothering to maintain her elegant composure. The other diners were starting to look at her, but she seemed completely unconcerned.

How did he know? Our resident Shelly was diligently reporting.

[Host, you’re attracting too much attention.] Shelly said with a tinge of curiosity to collective human reaction.

’Much deserved, given how rare people see actual people having a good day with good food.’

Neville glanced around and realized that Shelly still understated just how many people were staring at them. The other patrons watched as Gloria ate as if watching those mukbang videos on MeTube.

Their expressions ranged from curiosity to outright longing. In a world where nutrient solution was the norm, the sight of someone eating with pleasure was really something of a miracle.

"Gloria? Is that you?" said the woman who approached their table.

She was a middle-aged woman with a stocky build and calloused hands of someone who worked hard for a living. She wore a chef’s apron over simple clothing. Her face bore the weathered look of someone who had spent years perfecting their craft.

"Heilin!" Gloria’s face lit up upon seeing the woman. "I didn’t know you’re working here now! I thought your restaurant was still in the entertainment district?"

"We moved last year," Heilin said, sliding into the seat Gloria patted at.

"There’s better foot traffic here. Although," she said, eying the cookies in Gloria’s hand, "I have to say, I’ve never seen you look that happy eating anything I’ve made."

"Your cooking is also good. It’s better than anything I’ve eaten before. However, these—" Gloria held up a cookie like a trophy. "These are something else entirely. Your life will turn upside down after eating one of these."

Chef HeiLin’s professional interest was clearly piqued. She leaned closer, studying the cookie curiously.

"May I?" Chef Heilin asked, not looking at Gloria.

Gloria handed one over without hesitation.

Chef Heilin took a bite, and her eyes went wide. She chewed slowly, methodically, analyzing each component of the flavor profile with obvious expertise.

Neville could see the reaction around them, swallowing and waiting for Chef Heilin’s commentary.

"What is this?" she demanded, looking at Neville with sudden intensity. "What did you put in this?"

Neville felt like a deer caught in headlights. "It’s just... cookies."

"Cookies? Is that what it’s called? But these are not ’just a cookie.’" Chef Heilin set down the remains of the treat in awe.

"The Makan—that’s homemade Makan, isn’t it? And the sweetener... the Fanilya..." She shook her head slowly after saying the analysis out loud. "I haven’t tasted anything like this in years. The texture, the balance of flavors—young man, where did you get this recipe?"

"I... developed it myself." Neville managed to say while nervously looking around.

He couldn’t exactly explain that it was a recipe from another dimension. The people around were starting to stare at them in envy without even trying to hide it.

"Could you share it?" Chef Heilin asked casually, but Neville could see the desperate hope behind Chef Heilin’s professional facade.

This was the face of someone who had dedicated their life to cooking, only to watch their art slowly suffocated by the march of "efficiency" and "nutritional optimization."

[Host, if you share the exact recipe, it won’t work,] Shelly warned.

Neville’s heart sank. ’I know, but it wouldn’t be that simple either. Shelly, can you find alternatives quickly?’

[I can try, but it will cost points. A LOT of points.]

Neville thought of his carefully saved points balance. He imagined the satisfaction of eating real food in a world that had forgotten what real food tasted like. Although he had the robots coming, it was still missing the ’mother’s touch’ or ’the chef’s kiss.’

Then, he glanced at Chef Heilin’s hopeful expression and all the diners who had looked at Gloria’s enjoyment with such naked longing.

’Do it.’

The points drained from his account at a speed that made him wince. But moments later, Shelly’s voice chimed in his mind with a triumphant

[Found them!]

"I... let me think," Neville said out loud, stalling as Shelly fed him information.

He turned on his light brain, pretending to type as he actually pulled up the substitution list Shelly was generating. "I usually just cook by feeling. I need a little time to estimate the right measurement of the ingredients."

"Take your time," Chef Heilin said, though her eyes tracked his every movement with barely contained eagerness.

Gloria chose that moment to provide a distraction.

"Heilin, have you heard about the cooking robots Maxwell Corporation is developing?" she said happily.

Heilin’s attention turned to Gloria with obvious alarm. "Cooking robots?"

"Oh yes, they’re quite advanced. We’re planning to release the full version soon." Gloria said it in a lighthearted tone, but there was a gleam in her eye that Neville was beginning to recognize as her "stirring up trouble" expression. "They can replicate virtually any recipe with perfect consistency. No human error, no variation, no—"

"No soul," Chef Heilin interrupted flatly. But there was a hint of uncertainty beneath her bravado.

"How accurate is the current model?" Gloria asked as she turned to Neville, "Is it eighty-seven percent?"

Neville looked up from his light brain, momentarily thrown off by the sudden question. "Huh? Um, I think it’s ninety percent, actually. We’ve been making improvements since."

"Ninety percent?!" Gloria exclaimed as she repeated, her smile sharpened by the second. She turned back to Chef Heilin a little sympathetically. "Heilin, dear, you’d better learn quickly and best the robot as soon as it’s released. If you want to keep your shop open for a long time, that is."

It was delivered as a joke, complete with a playful nudge of the shoulder. But Neville heard the real message underneath.

Even in the 21st-century Earth, automation had been a looming threat to countless jobs. Here, in the interstellar era where technology had advanced beyond his wildest imagination, that threat was exponentially more real.

Of course, Chef Heilin heard it too. Her expression flickered with fear, determination, and something like resolve passing across her weathered features in quick succession.

"Here," Neville said, showing the external holographic screen with the list that he had compiled toward Chef Heilin and Gloria. "These are the ingredients I use. I don’t know how they process these things; I only used the already-made version."

He pointed out a few things on the list. "The Fanilya flowers are mainly for the flavoring, and you’ll need to use lait—but adjust the quantity down by about fifteen percent if the one you get was denser. Somehow, they don’t have any specifics for this. The English Yew seed, when mashed rather than roasted, creates another flavor that works for the base."

"This is..." Chef Heilin studied the list with growing excitement; her occupational mind was clearly running to adapt the recipe to her kitchen. "This could work. This could actually work."

"It won’t be exactly the same," Neville warned. "As I said, some of the ingredients here are fickle when delivered. It was different enough that you’ll need to experiment almost every day. But the principles are almost the same."

Chef Heilin looked up at him in awe and gratitude.

"Young man, I don’t know who you are or where you come from, but you’ve just given me something I thought I’d lost years ago." She carefully saved a few copies of the recipe file on her light brain.

"Of course, that’s my daughter-in-law!" Gloria exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight as she introduced Neville.

"Daughter-in-law?" Chef Heilin looked back and forth at Gloria and him and whispered, "Did Elara..." her words trailed off, and Gloria quickly understood what she was going for.

Gloria patted Chef Heilin on the back quite hard, which made Chef Heilin cough a little bit.

She said with an exaggerated laugh, "Ha Ha, what are you talking about?! Of course, Easons!"

"But isn’t Grayson... you know?" Chef Heilin said, trying to hold off her unpleasant words, but all of them understood.

Neville smiled warily, trying to hold off laughing in front of his elders.

Gloria, despite being offended, just pouted like a teenager and said, "That’s a long time ago! This time it’s for real!"

With a cue from Gloria, Neville had to introduce himself, "Hello, chef. I’m Neville Hope. Personal Secretary to CEO Maxwell."

Just as they were going for a handshake, Gloria exclaimed, separating their hands and said, "NO! NO!"

Neville looked at Gloria, trying to figure out what he said wrong.

"Haa..." Gloria took one look at him and knew this was a helpless case.

Instead of explaining, she just said with an authoritarian tone, "Re-do it!"

What was he supposed to say?