"Found another reason to hate Mondays," Dravin grumbled.
The radio news reported a truck accident at an intersection near TipTop Tower that had killed three pedestrians.
"May their souls rest in peace. If possible, may they just get isekaid and reach immortality. Amen." Dravin let out a bitter chuckle, reminded of the web novel he had read the night before.
The cars, moving like a snail for more than an hour, made Dravin click his tongue. The sound of honking horns filled the air.
That intersection was the source of the traffic, and that very tower was his destination.
He looked at his watch. His effort to leave two hours early was about to be in vain.
Should I just walk and leave the car? They usually do this in movies.
Dravin shook his head. He had just bought the new edition car last month.
No, I'm not crazy enough. I'll just be late then.
Forty minutes later, he arrived at TipTop Tower and hurried to the event hall.
"Chef, you almost missed your award. Please stand by backstage. I don't think you have time to change clothes." The staff member said.
"Worry not. Your ratings will skyrocket today because I will cook wearing a suit." Dravin winked, and the female staff immediately flushed.
"Y–yes, Chef, women will go crazy for sure."
Her voice faded as he headed to his waiting room. He figured he could get more endorsements from this clothing brand if he got it more screen time.
Dravin entered his waiting room filled with nagging from his manager. He had only five minutes before receiving the award and performing a live cooking demo.
"It's fine. I don't want you to do my makeup or hair. My fans love my messy hair when I cook anyway." He rejected the waiting makeup artist.
The staff in the waiting room were stunned, watching Dravin check himself in the mirror.
With one hand, he ruffled his hair to give it a cool impression.
The makeup artist's jaw dropped. The tousled hair enhanced Dravin's handsome face, and his form-fitting suit showed off a muscular physique with every movement.
That drooling gaze caught Dravin's attention. He turned to her and approached.
"Will you come to the after-party tonight?" he asked. The woman was taken aback and blinked.
"Mhm. Yeah, the staff got invited too. Why? Do you want a special hairstyle for the party?"
Her seductive gaze made Dravin chuckle. He knew that look meant she would end up in his bed.
"Sure. Come to my room early. Let's see what you've got."
The knowing smirk on his lips grew longer as the blonde-haired makeup artist bit her lower lip, nodding with a shy smile.
Seconds later, the stage staff called his name. Before leaving the waiting room, he could see the envious glances of the other female staff toward the makeup artist and his manager, rolling his eyes.
Yeah, he was used to all kinds of gazes for the past three years since his name became known as a "chefluencer."
Men envied him, and women were mesmerized by him.
Who would have thought that a global pandemic, which cost him his job as a chef at a five-star hotel, would turn him into a content creator?
From behind the curtain, Dravin saw how flashy and grand the stage was. He smiled widely as he saw the cooking table set on the stage.
"And, the Most Popular Cooking Content Creator in the TipTop Award goes to…" The host's voice boomed. Dravin's heart beat faster.
"Congratulations, Chef Dravin Connor. Please let us welcome him on the stage!"
Dravin stepped onto the stage, accompanied by triumphant music and thunderous applause.
He walked toward the host and proudly accepted his award trophy. The host then asked him to give a speech. He was wearing a portable mic, so he didn't need a podium like other winners.
"Thank you… thank you…" He began, trying to calm the audience and take control. All eyes were on him. His palms felt damp.
Being confident in front of a camera was different from being directly in front of an audience.
"Well, let me take off this jacket first."
A swooning scream erupted from the mostly female audience.
The screams grew louder as Dravin rolled the sleeves of his sky-blue shirt to his elbows, showing the firm veins in his arms.
"I know… I know… I got caught in a traffic jam, so I couldn't wear the chef's uniform. But isn't this view better?"
"YEAH! A LOT BETTER. YOU CAN TAKE OFF MORE!" A loud shout made the entire hall burst into laughter.
Dravin stepped forward, approaching the cooking table. He frowned slightly, disappointed with the brand of the induction stove. That brand had so many product issues.
"Many of you can guess what I'll cook here, right? Yeah, my first cooking video, that viral fried Oreo, the dish I made for my sister. She was craving something sweet and fried at the same time when she was on her… well, sensitive days."
The audience gave a soft laugh in admiration as Dravin started to heat the stove and placed the deep-fry pan on it, pouring about four cups of cooking oil.
"Who would have thought her prank of filming me making this snack right after waking up, with messy hair and topless, would lead me to standing on this stage? I thank her very much."
He started to mix the pancake batter while waiting for the oil to heat up.
"But more than that, I thank everyone who liked and shared that video. I thank all the people who were entertained by my cooking videos. For that, I will give this fried Oreo to those who have the topping powders under their chairs. Come on… find it and come here."
Dravin smiled as he watched the audience busy looking down.
"You'll find cinnamon, coffee, matcha, red velvet, purple yam, and some other powders in small glass bottles. Bring them to me to complete this dish."
The audience grew even more frantic, eager to find the treasure. Some had already found it, cheering with joy.
Dravin felt a strange heat on his arm.
Why is this stove heating up so quickly? Is it because of the new induction technology this brand boasts? But…
Dravin shook his head and refocused. He set the mixing bowl aside and started to open the Oreos.
His lingering nervousness made him thirsty, and he asked a staff member for a glass of water with ice cubes. Chewing on ice cubes could help reduce his nerves.
The audience members who had found their powder bottles began to climb onto the stage.
Dravin started dipping the Oreos into the batter and plunging them into the frying pan.
He winced as oil splattered a bit on his palm. It was too hot. He tried to reduce the temperature, even though it was already at the right temperature to cook.
"Chef, here is your ice water."
The voice of the staff member made Dravin turn his head.
Suddenly, she stumbled and tripped.
Dravin froze as he watched the glass with the ice cubes fly from her hand.
Crashhh! Crack!
His legs trembled, refusing to move as cold water hit the hot glass surface of the induction stove.
No.
It was too late to move.
Craaackk! Blarrr!
The induction stove exploded, sending shards of glass flying and hitting Dravin.
"Aaarrgghh…"
Sharp, hot glass shredded his arm and face. A burning sensation stung every nerve as he collapsed in front of the stove.
His blurry vision caught sight of the deep-fry pan. It had lost its balance and, toppled towards his head, poured all of its contents.
The last thing Dravin heard was his own pain-filled scream.
Then, everything went black.
.
.
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[Welcome to Vitaronia]
[You just activated the NuLife Balance System]
[Let's bring food to the table and catch the demons]