Inside the semi-open kitchen.
The chefs and Pokémon, each busy preparing their assigned dishes, kept glancing at Baimu as he silently read a cookbook. They couldn't help whispering among themselves.
A customer helping in the kitchen? Was this some kind of TV show?
Where were the cameras?
"What are you gawking at? Get back to work!" Lokomoko snapped, displeased to see them chatting instead of working.
Many ingredients had been prepared in advance, but some had to be handled on the spot to preserve their flavor.
The sous-chef quietly approached Lokomoko and asked in a low voice, "You're really going to let this kid cook? Something about this feels strange."
"Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him. I won't give him a chance to fool around."
He shook his head and wiped his hands with a white towel.
The first thing Lokomoko had done after bringing Baimu into the kitchen was hand him a cookbook and a list of the dishes being made for dinner.
"The most important rule in this kitchen: don't change the head chef's recipes on a whim. If you've got your own ideas, open your own restaurant."
He had delivered the warning sternly.
He'd hoped Baimu would realize he was out of his depth and back down.
Instead, Baimu had been reading the cookbook intently ever since.
Lokomoko began to regret his rash decision. The boy clearly did want to learn to cook, so he should have taught him somewhere meant for proper instruction.
Not in a working kitchen.
Bringing someone who wanted to learn into this kitchen disrespected the customers, the boy, and even the entire kitchen.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Lokomoko walked over. "Listen..."
Thump.
Baimu closed the thick cookbook and said respectfully, "Mr. Lokomoko, I've finished reading it. I learned