When Alan walked into the kitchen carrying both large and small bags, Tom's eyes lit up.
Taking advantage of the fact that there weren't many guests in the morning, Tom sneaked into the kitchen under the pretense of seeing what kind of help Alan needed. In reality, he just wanted to pick up a few tips—steal his advice, so to speak.
In response, Alan said indifferently, "It's up to you. Anyway, you don't have the talent of the God's Hand to turn decay into magic. Even if you saw the flowers bloom before your eyes, you wouldn't understand it."
Setting the dragon liver and black root aside first, Alan found a sink, opened the bag containing the larvae of biting cabbage, and poured them into it.
The miniature biting cabbage larvae began squeaking one after another in the sink. Their sharp teeth opened and closed with a rhythmic clicking sound. Just watching them made Tom, who was standing nearby, shiver all over.
While a single biting cabbage larva looked cute on its own, a whole bundle of them squirming together looked quite disgusting. The way they moved in sync, clinging to each other, made Tom's skin crawl.
Alan, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. He reached into the sink with his bare hands, deftly avoided the snapping teeth aiming for his fingers, and thrust the knife into the larva's mouth, slashing it quickly.
He removed the teeth and oral tissues, cut open the body cleanly, and then placed it aside on a tray. One cabbage larva was processed.
And that was just the beginning.
Alan's movements grew faster and faster, his knife raising and lowering in such a blur that it left afterimages in the air.
The dual enhancement of his physical fitness and neural reflexes made his work astonishingly efficient—frighteningly so. Tom, watching closely from the side, was stunned.
Absolutely dumbfounded.
I can't learn this. I can't even follow what he's doing, he thought in awe. This guy's on another level.
Before long, all fifty biting cabbage larvae were processed. Alan counted the pieces now resting on the tray, took a basin, added a generous amount of sugar and water into it, stirred until it melted, then soaked the processed cabbage larvae into the solution.
This step was obviously different from what Alan had done yesterday when making bite-sized kale.
Tom, who had been watching curiously, couldn't help but ask, "Cecil, what are you planning to do today? Why is it different from yesterday?"
"Yesterday's taste wasn't perfect. And as you can see, today's ingredients are different too," Alan replied. Then, pausing for a moment, he looked at Tom seriously and added, "Please tell the customers later: Don't grab ingredients from the cook."
"Huh?" Tom was stunned, not quite catching the meaning of Alan's words.
As a bar owner proficient in kitchen magic, Tom had enough self-awareness to know he wasn't at Alan's level when it came to cooking.
He loved to eat the food Alan prepared.
At the same time, he understood that this was a matter of talent and skill. He wasn't someone who could just run out, buy ingredients, and replicate what Alan did.
That's why he didn't immediately understand what Alan meant by that warning.
After soaking the biting cabbage larvae in sugar water, Alan stopped his movements. Tom, standing by with nothing to do, soon heard a customer ordering from outside the kitchen.
He quickly stepped out and was about to greet the regular customer when he noticed the man's hand was wrapped in a thick bandage.
"Oh my god, Hotch, what happened to you?" Tom exclaimed in shock.
Hotch gave a sheepish smile and said, "Bitten by a biting cabbage."
"The biting cabbage...?" Tom blinked and then glanced at the man's green-tinged face. He hesitated before asking, "Was it at least tasty?"
"It tasted awful! I've never eaten anything more disgusting!" Hotch exploded. "I even bought a book on kitchen magic to study, and it was absolutely useless. Not only did I fail to make something tasty, I got bitten in the process!"
He looked hurt, and a little angry. "You clearly said biting cabbage was delicious! How are you going to compensate me?"
"This has nothing to do with me," Tom said quickly, backing away from blame. "What I said was that the bite-sized cabbage made by Mr. Cecil was delicious. Not the raw kind you just throw in a pot."
"I don't care!" Hotch declared. "Unless you give me an extra portion of today's dish!"
"In your dreams." Tom rolled his eyes and pointed behind Hotch. "See for yourself."
Hotch turned his head—and instantly froze.
Behind him was a line of other wizards, each one injured in some small but painful way. One had a bitten hand, another had bandages around his arm, and one particularly unlucky fellow had a swollen, mangled nose, like it had been nearly bitten off.
Without exception, these were all the same people who had listened to Tom's bragging the night before about how delicious Alan's bite-sized kale was.
Looking at the group's miserable condition, Tom couldn't help but chuckle and said, "Mr. Cecil doesn't want this kind of thing to happen again. He said no more fighting over ingredients with the cook."
"No more, no more!" the wizards all exclaimed in unison, shaking their heads violently.
They had learned the hard way that talent matters. Cooking wasn't just about the recipe—it was about the person behind it. And none of them wanted to suffer again.
Satisfied after passing on Alan's message, Tom prepared drinks for the battered customers. After a bit of casual chatting, he couldn't help but slip back into the kitchen to see how things were progressing.
The timing was just right. Alan was now spreading the sugar-soaked bite-sized kale across a baking tray to dry.
"Are we going to start? What are we making today?" Tom asked, eyes full of curiosity.
"Hmm…" Alan thought for a moment, then said, "I plan to make a dessert."
"A dessert?"
"Yes," he nodded. "Rock candy bite kale."
Tom blinked in surprise.
Dessert?
Rock candy?
Using biting cabbage?
He didn't say anything out loud, but his face must've betrayed his thoughts because Alan chuckled slightly.
"You'll see," he said simply, and went back to work.
Once the pieces had dried slightly, Alan transferred them into a pot. He added more sugar and honey, heating everything slowly over a low flame. The scent began to rise, a sweet, rich aroma that filled the kitchen.
Even Tom—who had smelled hundreds of dishes—felt a little dazed by how good it was.
Alan stirred constantly, never letting the cabbage burn or caramelize too fast. He added a bit of powdered lemon rind and a pinch of powdered star flower root to cut the sweetness, giving it complexity.
When the mixture reached a golden, glossy consistency, he poured it into molds and let it cool.
Once cooled, each piece sparkled like a gemstone—crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with just a hint of the biting cabbage's herbal spice at the core.
Tom couldn't resist. "Can I try one?"
Alan handed him a piece wordlessly.
Tom took a bite—and his eyes widened.
The crisp candy shell shattered delightfully, releasing a wave of sweetness. Then came the rich, chewy texture and a deep, layered flavor that was unlike anything he had ever tasted. There was no trace of the original bitterness of biting cabbage—only complexity, balance, and magic.
"Unbelievable," Tom whispered. "This… this is actually delicious."
Alan didn't say anything, but there was a quiet satisfaction in his expression.
Tom looked back at the tray of candy and then toward the door, where injured but eager customers waited.
"Looks like this might be another hit," he said, grinning.
Alan simply replied, "Let's just hope no one tries to make it themselves this time."