The smell of plasma smoke and dragon acid still clung to his tattered chef's jacket. But what lingered stronger in his senses was satisfaction. Not because he saved the courier's life—that was merely a byproduct—but because they managed to disrupt the Ironclad soldiers' operation without losing a single member of their group.
"Short report," said Leo as soon as they returned to the temporary hideout in the basement of an office building. "We encountered a large biological creature classified as a 'Dragon.' Corrosive acid, high physical defense. We also confirmed that Valerius' forces—let's call them that—are active in this zone with significant strength."
Dr. Aris Thorne had already opened his tablet, his fingers dancing across the screen. "I recorded several seconds of the battle. Initial analysis: the acid spewed by the dragon has a very low pH, mixed with unknown metal-degrading enzymes. Fascinating… Valerius' soldiers' armor looks advanced, but it's not immune to extra-dimensional biological threats."
"Their strength," Ben interjected, still out of breath. "They're organized, disciplined. We can't face them head-on."
"We don't need to fight them," Leo replied, his eyes shifting to the small object in his hand: a military communication device taken from one of the soldiers who fell during the chaos. "We just need to listen."
He tossed the device to Aris. "Doc, can you dissect this? Look for logistics channels, procurement, anything related to food and water supplies."
Rya, the novice cook, looked at him in confusion. "Why do we need that? Shouldn't we be avoiding them?"
Leo pulled out one of his homemade Energy Bars and bit into it. Hard. Bland. But effective. "Battles require logistics. Soldiers need food. Good food boosts morale and combat effectiveness. If we know where their supply depot is, or at least their supply routes, we don't need to attack their forces. We can cripple them by cutting their lifeline." He paused, looking at each of them. "Or, we can 'borrow' their supplies."
The scene was vivid in his mind. A warehouse full of guaranteed food ingredients, clean water, perhaps even materials from other dimensions he could experiment with. It was a dream for a chef trapped in a starvation hell.
"A smart approach," Aris murmured, already busy with the device using wires and tools he salvaged from his lab. "Attacking the supply chain is an efficient way to cripple a larger enemy."
"But the courier earlier…" Ben was still fixated on it. "He saw us. Is that wise?"
Leo sighed, his thin patience thinning further. "He saw us saving his life from an impossible situation. That gives him two choices: be grateful, or be wary. In both cases, he now sees us as a powerful entity. That is an advantageous position. If we meet again, we hold the control."
His philosophy about people was simple: essentially, they were like food ingredients. Some fresh, some rotten. Some manipulated with heat, some with cold. That courier was a new ingredient. And Leo had already begun thinking of a recipe for him.
A few hours later, Aris exclaimed, "I did it! I got into their tactical communication network. Most of it is heavily encrypted, but… there's one channel that's looser. A channel for damage reports and supply requests from small units."
Muffled voices of the soldiers began to emerge from the tablet's speaker, interspersed with static.
"…Zone 7-Delta contaminated by spores. Require class-C filter masks and antitoxin…" "…transport vehicle 34 destroyed by terraformer beast attack. Need replacement for cargo delivery to Outpost 'The Citadel'…" "…requesting additional MRE rations for the 9th battalion stationed at the Eastern Perimeter. There's an incident of poisoning from local water sources…"
Leo listened intently, like a sommelier tasting wine. Every word was a clue.
"The Citadel," he said. "That sounds like headquarters. And they're having issues with food and water supplies."
"The 9th Battalion at the Eastern Perimeter," Aris added, marking something on the crude digital map they had made. "That's not far from here. Maybe one or two days' travel."
"Water-poisoning issues," Leo concluded, a thin humorless smile finally forming on his face. "That's an invitation."
A plan began forming in his head, like crafting a new complex dish. They weren't going to attack The Citadel—that was suicide. But an outpost struggling with supplies? That was the perfect target.
"We will become the solution to their problem," Leo said, his eyes gleaming with a cold light.
"What do you mean?" asked Rya.
"We will 'find' a clean water source near the Eastern Perimeter Outpost. Or maybe, we will 'happen' to have an antidote for their poisoning." He turned to Aris. "Doc, can you create an antidote that looks convincing? It doesn't need to cure anything, just give a placebo effect or temporary symptom reduction."
Aris raised an eyebrow. "I can. With the plant samples we collected, I can mix something that will neutralize most common biological toxins for a few hours. But it won't cure anything."
"A few hours is all we need," Leo replied. "Enough to make them trust us, bring us in, and maybe… treat us as honored guests carrying gifts."
Cooking wasn't just about ingredients. It was about presentation, about enticing aromas, about captivating appearance. They would present themselves as the solution, as unexpected allies. And once they were inside, in the middle of the enemy's supplies…
"…then we'll see what menu we can craft from their own kitchen."
It sounded insane. High-risk. But that was the only language understood in Amalgam: taking big risks for bigger rewards.
Preparations began. Aris tinkered with plants and equipment, creating the "miracle antidote." Leo and Rya prepared other "gifts"—some modified Energy Bars made to look more appealing, and a bottle of light fermented drink made from starchy roots, with a taste familiar enough to avoid suspicion.
Meanwhile, Leo couldn't forget the courier. Amid the preparations, he found something left behind near the spot where they helped him—a small electronic component, no bigger than a fingernail, with a strange metallic sheen. Not from Valerius' forces. Handmade, advanced.
Jinx, Leo thought, recalling the brief chatter he heard from the courier's comms. This was their trace. A connection.
He pocketed the component. Who knew—someday, they might need the courier's services again. Or perhaps, they might need something delivered to the courier.
That night, while the others rested, Leo stood at the shattered window, staring at the sky filled with foreign lights. The Citadel. A force strong enough to scorch an entire city block, yet holding a simple, human weakness: the stomachs of its soldiers.
He would cook for them. And like his finest dishes, it would look beautiful, smell enticing, and be poisonous in just the right places.
A shift had occurred. From mere survival, they were now stepping into a far more dangerous game: a game of deception and infiltration.
And for the first time since the world ended, Leo felt like he was finally working in his own kitchen again.