"WHOOOHH—Yeaga, bro, this your actual house??" Daigo's jaw straight-up dislocated as he stared up at the literal palace-sized mansion floating beside a freakin' WATERFALL like it was a casual Minecraft base.
"It's not a house, Daigo. It's a damn cutscene," Ishigo muttered, eyes narrowing. "You sure we're not in a VR sim?"
The mansion was built different. A bridge of glowing blackstone led over koi-filled waters toward a multi-tiered structure wrapped in silver metal and crystal glass, almost floating. Water curved in slow motion around the balcony like some Studio Ghibli fever dream.
Even Reika—Queen of Dead Eyes—paused for a second, blinking up. "...Did your parents live with you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, katana slung over her shoulder.
Yeaga scratched the back of his wild hair, grinning. "Nah. It's just my place. My 'parentro'—aka my parental unit—got me this when I turned 12."
"Twelve?? BROOO," Daigo yelped. "I didn't even get socks at twelve!"
"Huh?" Reika squinted. "Wait... Who is your parent exactly?"
Yeaga paused. Then dropped the casual nuke:
"Ishigo no shitsumon da. I'm the son of the current Minister of Defense."
Dead silence.
Daigo's mouth hung open like a busted vending machine. "WHATTT!! Bro you got plot armor AND government connections?! Why didn't you ever tell us?!"
Yeaga shrugged, the little bastard. "Didn't think it was necessary. Also I like watching people underestimate me."
"You're evil," Ishigo muttered.
Reika just gave him a long look. "Tch. Typical rich boy."
Yeaga clapped his hands suddenly. "ANYWAY. Sit your butts down, I'm makin' dinner. I ain't just Yeaga the swordsman. I'm Yeaga the damn masterchef."
"No way you cook too," Daigo laughed. "Bet you just press a button and food spawns."
"Blasphemy." Yeaga pointed at Daigo with a kitchen knife like a cursed courtroom anime villain. "You are about to witness culinary peak fiction."
---
They entered a wide, open kitchen that looked like a cooking arena. White marble counters, a cutting board that lit up when Yeaga touched it, spice drawers that opened with a snap of the fingers—it was a vibe.
Yeaga slapped on a red apron with "🔥 HOTTER THAN HELL 🔥" written on it. "Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, weeb edition. Who's ready to get their tastebuds annihilated?"
"Do I trust this man?" Ishigo whispered to Reika.
"No," she said. But sat anyway.
---
"Alright, lesson one: Japanese-style Creamy Teriyaki Exploding Chicken Bombs," Yeaga announced, throwing chicken thighs on the board like a freakin' shuriken.
1. Meat Prep:
"First, you take chicken thigh cuts. Gotta be juicy, bone removed, skin on. Respect the skin. Then add salt, garlic powder, ginger powder, onion powder. Slap that in a bowl like it owes you money."
2. Sauce Madness:
"Now we go saucy. One spoon soy sauce, one spoon sake, one spoon mirin, some tomato puree, dash of sugar. Then—my secret combo: Jaki sauce, Suya spice, and teriyaki glaze. Let that chicken vibe in that for 30 minutes. Marinate like your trauma."
3. Creamy Bomb Fillin':
"Melted mozzarella, Japanese kewpie mayo, chili flakes, cream cheese, and spicy chipro bits. Mix it into a demon paste. Now cut the chicken, fill the insides with this sinful goo, fold it, seal it."
4. Crunchify Time:
"Egg wash. Dip. Then dunk that sucker into crushed fiery chips. Boom. Fire crust activated."
5. Final Boss:
"Deep fry until golden like a shonen protagonist's hair. Serve with shredded cabbage and a drizzle of kewpie mayo + nori."
Daigo took the first bite. Pause.
Then screamed: "BROOO—WHAT IS THIS??? It's like chicken had a baby with a cheese bomb and that baby learned martial arts!"
Even Reika blinked as molten cheese dripped from her fork. She tasted—
Crunch. Cream. Heat. Sweet. Fire. The spice made her eyes flicker slightly, and she didn't even blink at explosions, but now?
"…That's actually insane," she said quietly.
Yeaga leaned on the counter with a smug-ass smirk. "Told ya. Your boy don't play in the kitchen."
Ishigo looked at his plate like it just confessed its love to him. "You… You could open a restaurant."
"Oh, I've got a food truck idea: 'Yeaga's Trauma Meals – Food So Good, It Hurts Less**.'"
"STOP," Reika said, actually snorting a laugh.
Daigo almost cried. "You're gonna make some poor girl fall for you and die of food addiction."
Yeaga wagged a finger. "Correction—my wife's gonna be a food villain too. Tag team. We'll make hell ramen for breakfast."