In the workshop behind the counter, the remaining girls were squeezed together on the sofa, watching a movie starring a Bangboo called 'The Karl Family' that Wise was playing for them.
The slapstick comedy performed by the Bangboo might have been a bit childish for adults, but for the Silver Squad, it was just right.
As the film went on, the depiction of family in the story deeply captivated them.
The scenes playing on the screen were something they had never experienced in the institute.
Everything in it was a novel experience for the Silver Squad, who were encountering so-called 'entertainment' for the first time; many of the things mentioned in the movie were completely unheard of to them.
The others were completely absorbed, with no attention to spare for anything else—except for Twiggy, who was still trying to act tough.
"Such a childish film! Do you think we're little kids? I'm not interested at all!"
That's what Twiggy said, but her eyes were glued to the screen with unwavering honesty, not relaxing for a second.
When a character in the movie faced a crisis, she immediately forgot all her supposed principles, her full attention fixed on the character's every move. Her hand unconsciously clenched the hem of her clothes so tightly that her fingertips turned white.
Watching them watch the film so intently, like children, laughing or growing anxious along with the characters' actions, Andrew and Wise, who had quietly stepped away, couldn't help but exchange a smile.
Everything was so peaceful. The anxiety of being in a new place had been washed away by the movie playing from the videotape. They were gradually relaxing, forgetting about the institute.
"Looking at them now, they're not 'super soldiers' at all. Just a group of girls who haven't grown up."
"Yeah. That's why I hope Public Security makes those bastards from the institute face the punishment they deserve."
As he spoke, Wise shook his fist fiercely, though with his barely-exercised body, it wasn't very intimidating.
"Don't worry," Andrew replied. "They've already breathed their last gulp of free air in this world."
After all, the researchers' usefulness was completely gone. In a city driven by capital, the people backing them wouldn't spend a single cent on worthless assets.
Spending the rest of their lives in prison for their crimes could be considered the best possible outcome for them.
But speaking of that, Andrew suddenly did a careful headcount of the movie-watchers:
"One... two... six... ten... ten?"
Excluding Anby, who was taking a shower upstairs, and the unconscious Soldier 11, everyone was here?
Didn't the Silver Squad leave someone to watch over the sleeping Soldier 11?
Andrew scanned the room and spotted Soldier 11 still fast asleep on a sofa in the back. And if he recalled correctly, the one assigned to watch her was... Twiggy.
"..."
After a moment of silence, Andrew chose to pretend he hadn't noticed this fact, then shot a pitying glance at the sleeping Soldier 11.
When this girl wakes up, she'll probably be completely out of the loop, utterly clueless about everything around her, just like that red-haired Liberi from the Lyre Squad.
But this wasn't the time to think about that. The most important thing now was to make a real meal for the girls in front of him.
The nutrient paste and energy gel they had pulled from their backpacks had left Andrew speechless. He hadn't eaten this poorly even in the Forbidden Lands!
"When Nicole gets here, I'll explain the commission details and have her go up to help Belle. So, our late-night snack is in your hands. Belle and I barely ate any dinner because we were waiting for you to cook."
Wise, who had been wandering around outside for the better part of the day, was also starving. There was nothing out in the outer ring except tumbleweeds; he couldn't have found a bite to eat even if he wanted to.
Andrew, who was also feeling the pangs of hunger, gave a thumbs-up, immediately walked out of the video store, crossed the street, and went back to his own place.
After a moment of thought, he selected the appropriate ingredients from the freezer, hauled them out, and quickly returned to the video store's backyard.
He laid out the ingredients one by one on the cooking station: a large block of ground beef he had prepared and refrigerated earlier, bun dough, yellow onions, tomatoes, iceberg lettuce, pickles, cheese, and, most importantly, butter and his own special salad dressing.
Andrew was relieved that he had prepared more than enough ingredients beforehand, enough to make delicious, quick, and easy-to-prepare hamburgers.
If he had gone with the stews and roasted meats he was used to making, it would have been difficult to suddenly come up with ingredients for so many extra people for a late-night meal.
He couldn't just tell everyone to go to the Waterfall Noodle Shop for ramen, could he?
That would be a complete failure as a chef.
The old Felyne Matron he had once studied under used to say:
"When making a meal for others, to blindly pursue so-called 'flavor' without considering the objective circumstances is the height of irresponsibility."
Flames flared up under the griddle, radiating intense heat. As he began to cook, an aura of concentration emanated from him. From this moment on, his eyes saw nothing but the cooking station before him.
And the Head Chef who had initiated him into the world of Felyne cuisine had also warned Andrew:
"Focus. Whenever you begin cooking, no external factors can be allowed to influence you. To always be able to achieve the best possible result under the given conditions—that is the mark of a truly great Felyne chef."
A sharp glint of the knife flashed, and the yellow onions were instantly transformed into uniform, thin slices. The immense strength and blade skills honed from his life as a hunter gave Andrew an equally powerful control over a kitchen knife.
Whether it was controlling a weapon in battle or precisely carving materials from a dragon, the precision and handling of ingredients were all interconnected skills.
Therefore, for Andrew, the skills he developed as a hunter and his culinary arts could be said to mutually enhance and complete each other.
'I really don't get it,' he thought. 'How could that guy, Lone Bird, travel alone for so long and still be such a terrible cook?'
He remembered back when everyone was responsible for their own meals, the look of relieved bliss on Lone Bird's face after taking a single bite of meat.
Thinking about that expression, Andrew found it hard not to cringe.
As the griddle's temperature rose, he placed a pat of butter on it once it reached the right heat. By the time the butter had completely melted and begun to bubble and sizzle, the onions on the cutting board were already sliced.
He tossed the onions into the butter and began to stir-fry them rapidly until they turned translucent. A rich, milky aroma from the butter and the savory scent of the onions filled the air.
He poured in a moderate amount of red wine vinegar and sprinkled in ground black pepper, salt, and a pinch of sugar, adding the unique fragrance of the pepper to the mix.
With continuous stir-frying, the onions gradually transformed from translucent to a perfect caramel color. The glistening, caramelized onions exuded a rich and unique flavor.
And with that, the caramelized onion jam—the most important condiment for an American-style hamburger—was ready.
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