Ⅲ
Hayes flatly declined Jimte and Carral's invitation to breakfast.
It wasn't that Hayes didn't eat breakfast. He simply had no appetite for what the Storm Inn served.
Fried fish, fries, and fried potato chunks were one thing.
But what on earth was creamy fish-eye and cilantro soup?
The moment Hayes saw that soup, his [Spirituality] nearly became distorted-eyeballs floated across the thick, vivid green broth.
There were so many eyeballs that they crowded together in dense, overlapping layers.
And the cream-laced broth kept bubbling over the charcoal fire.
One look at that sight was enough to kill Hayes's appetite completely.
Count Bette's nephew declined the inn chef's painstakingly prepared dish.
The chef was deeply disappointed-
"Is it not to your liking, sir?
Then you're missing out on a heavenly delicacy!
You should know that two of my apprentices have opened a restaurant on the busiest street in South Los!
They told me business is booming, with customers pouring in nonstop!"
The chef's words did nothing to change Hayes's mind.
On the contrary, Count Bette's nephew walked away even faster.
Inside the carriage, Manta took out a sandwich and a flask of orange juice.
"I borrowed the inn's kitchen to make this.
The chef even gave me some pointers. He thought my sandwiches were far too conventional and needed a bold breakthrough."
At that, Lady Manta laughed.
She recalled the chef's suggestion: put a fresh, living octopus into the sandwich. When it completely filled a starving diner's mouth, the satisfaction of that struggle would transcend mere taste and was certain to delight the diner.
Lady Manta hadn't rejected the idea.
Of course, she hadn't tried it either.
She had simply made an ordinary egg sandwich.
As for an octopus sandwich?
She had made a note of it, but she wouldn't