18th Floor, Dungeon…
The children laughed in the corner, clashing their wooden swords in play, while the mothers gathered along the southern wall, their eyes fixed on the demonstration at the center.
"Now… watch carefully." Elaine's voice was soft yet firm, her lips curved in a patient smile as she tilted the pan. The golden omelette sizzled in oil, the sound sharp and crackling. "As soon as you hear that sound, you have to take the spatula and turn it over gently. If you rush it…" She paused, her wrist moving slow and elegant as she flipped the omelette with practiced ease. "…the oil will fly out and burn your skin."
The aroma of butter and egg filled the room as she lifted the spatula, her movements calm, precise—almost graceful.
"And that," Elaine finished, setting the pan down, "is how you make a proper omelette. Now, it's your turn." She passed the spatula into the hands of a dark elf girl beside her.
