The Platinum Grill in Panis Town was a battlefield-like booming restaurant, sparking at the heart of the pleasure district.
The heat of the kitchen was like the throbbing of a blacksmith's forge.
There, a promising young cook appeared like a comet.
The title of "new cook" didn't matter.
His knife work was the blade of a warrior.
The speed with which he chopped vegetables was swordsmanship striking the enemy's vital points.
The way he wielded a frying pan was the mighty arm swinging a battle axe. His seasoning was decided in one shot—like a fist landing true on its target.
"Cain… you are magnificent…!!"
The chef's shout resounded like the cheers at ringside.
The cooks were captivated.
As if the spectators had discovered the strongest fighting king.
"This much anyone could do."
Cain's voice was the smoke he exhaled after a battle.
Meanwhile, Endi was struggling.
His white cook's coat was drenched with sweat, buried in piles of dishes.
No matter how much he washed, the plates kept breaking.
Like swords snapping on the battlefield.
"You're useless no matter what I have you do… can't you even wash dishes properly? You've already broken plate after plate! Take a lesson from Cain!"
The chef's roar was a coach's harsh guidance.
Endi shouted:
"Yes! I'm sorry!!"
His voice was loud, but his chest heavy.
The awareness that he was troubling the restaurant bound his feet like chains.
"Damn it… why the hell am I doing this?"
Endi's murmur was the drip of sweat shed in a lost ring.
The chef's eyes shone at Cain.
"Cain, you'll be the next head chef for sure. I expect great things from you!"
"Don't decide that on your own."
Cain's rejection was the composure of a champion glancing at a challenger.
Meanwhile, the hall was the front line of the battlefield.
The customers' voices flew like bullets.
Saizō moved sharply.
His service was like the maneuvering of an assassin slicing through enemy lines.
It impressed the veteran older lady in charge of training newcomers.
"Saizō, you're such a capable man, aren't you? It's a blessing to have someone like you when we're short-handed."
"No, no, not at all."
Showered with praise, Saizō had already gotten carried away.
His smile was the glint of a hidden knife on the battlefield.
But the old lady's gaze pierced Kumashis.
"Compared to that… what's with this Kumashis?"
Kumashis was stiff with nerves.
His body like an iron plate, he dropped the dishes six times. Like a green soldier spilling ammunition on the battlefield.
"You, could you knock it off already? If you spill food on a customer's clothes, I won't forgive you!"
The old lady's scolding was the voice of a commander pressing a gun to his head.
Kumashis sulked in silence.
Like the stillness of a dud bomb.
Suddenly, a blast echoed from the kitchen.
"Damn it! I can't take this!"
"Hey, wait, Endi!!"
The chef's shout didn't reach him.
Endi flung his cook's coat and leapt into the neon of Panis Town's night through the back door.
"I can't stand this anymore! Fine, I'll investigate in my own way!!"
His shout was like the howl of a defeated fighter in the ring.
He dashed into the sleepless city with the force of a stray dog.
"Endi… that idiot…"
Saizō's murmur was the sigh of a soldier seeing off a subordinate who blundered on the battlefield.
In the hall, a rough, chubby customer snapped at Kumashis.
"Hey, bowl-cut! Bring me pig's feet!"
"If you eat pork, that's cannibalism…"
Kumashis's poison tongue was like flashing a knife in warning. Fortunately, the customer didn't hear it.
"Huh? What'd you say? You mean this place doesn't even have pig's feet!?"
Saizō slid in.
With the sharpness of a hound catching the scent of a villain.
"My apologies, sir. What seems to be the trouble?"
Behind the apology, his eyes had already locked on the target.
Kumashis glared at the rude customer and cracked his fingers.
Like a fighter preparing before a brawl.
Meanwhile, Endi wandered through the darkness of Panis Town, sulking.
Like a stray dog with nowhere to go.
Then, Rose's masked face appeared.
"Whaaat are you doing?"
"Uwah! Prince Rose!?"
"Shh! Idiot, don't shout so loud. What about your job?"
"…I snuck out. I've never cooked before, I can't do it… Besides, you can't track the mafia's moves from the kitchen."
Endi's voice leaned against the ropes of the ring in weakness.
Rose didn't scold him, but smiled gently.
"I see, so they put you in the kitchen. Well, people have strengths and weaknesses. Can't be helped."
Those words were encouragement, a trainer patting his shoulder.
A fire lit in Endi's eyes.
The shine of a fighter swearing a rematch.
"Actually, I was tailing the mafia dragging off Darmaine, but… I lost them near the Platinum Grill."
Rose's frustration was the growl of a hunter who lost his prey.
Endi clenched his fist.
"You lost them? Then that means there's a hideout nearby!?"
"That's what it comes to. Can you help me look?"
Rose's invitation was the gong that sounded when stepping into the ring.
Endi roared.
"Yes! I'll do it!!"
His spirit was the vow of a fist standing on the battlefield.
At that moment, Darmaine had been dragged into the Nova Family's hideout.
The dim space was like the cage of an underground arena.
Only the lamp's light illuminated the stench of blood and sweat.
"Boss, we brought Darmaine. He was making trouble in town, and when we questioned him, he said he wanted to join us… What do you want to do?"
The lamp-man's voice was the referee's announcement in the ring.
Darmaine trembled.
"Eh? The boss… huh?"
His unease was the sweat of a rookie before a match.
Clack, clack—footsteps approached.
Like the heartbeat of a death-dealing fist.
What the lamp's glow revealed was a small boy with orange hair.
Yet in his eyes dwelled the killing intent of a final boss.
But Darmaine, unable to measure his strength, utterly underestimated the boy boss.