The round table was meant to seat about twenty people.
Its large surface was packed with plates of colorful, aromatic dishes.
The sweet scent of roasted meat wafted through the mess hall, making it clear—this wasn't just any breakfast. Anyone seeing it would know that at a glance.
Chef Zavier rushed out with a proud grin, ready to unveil the secrets behind his culinary masterpieces.
"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce—" he began, moving toward his signature dish with flair.
But Shelby and Zane weren't interested in introductions or flowery words.
Their noses twitched in agreement with their appetites.
Without hesitation, they each grabbed a large chunk of roasted meat and took greedy bites.
Chef Zavier could only smile wryly. "Bon appétit, sirs," he said with a bow.
The two dug in like wolves, chewing noisily.
The room fell into an awkward silence, save for the sound of aggressive chewing.
The rest of the customers—raised in well-to-do households—watched with disbelief.
