Flammable holy water

"If you opened a kitchen in New York, I swear I'd give you a blank check to become my personal chef, whatever price you asked." Tony Stark wore an enraptured expression, as though he had just returned to the present from a childhood Christmas:

"Mr. Emiya, your cooking has completely overturned everything I thought I knew. Those Michelin chefs might as well be a bunch of beginners."

"If I could, I'd want to eat your cooking for all three meals, every day, every month, every year."

"So, once this meat is cooked, could I have another piece?"

"Mr. Stark, I've already explained that my current culinary skills don't allow me to prepare dishes you can fully absorb without wasting the ingredients' spiritual energy." Shirou Emiya sounded rather helpless, and lightly tapped the rubber hand Luffy had stretched over:

"With your current constitution, another 157 grams would make you explode."

"I suggest trying the slightly more ordinary spiritual food over there. Taking things step by step isn't a bad thing."

Tony Stark: "..."

It wasn't a matter of another piece or half a piece. He had specified the amount down to the last gram, making it hard not to believe him.

"God, that's just cruel." As Tony Stark said this, he completely failed to notice Su Lin, who was tallying the day's proceeds nearby, turn to glance at him.

In the end, he picked up something equally delicious, but which brought less physical evolution—or, rather, less sheer pleasure.

Suspicion? He didn't need that.

Since he had chosen to explore these unknown things, he had to be brave enough to try them and thoroughly enjoy this experience in another universe.

Even if all it took to go home was opening a door.

Staring at the food on his plate, Tony Stark suddenly