It wasn't until the room's door closed and the latch clicked that Alex came back to his senses, letting out a sigh of relief.
Did he want a compliment? Does a god also need to be praised for his cooking skills?
He realized the issue with hindsight, but thinking it over, he found it impossible. He shook his head with a wry smile and picked up the remaining slice of buttered bread.
Elias's control of the heat was wonderful; the bread was pan-fried perfectly, golden and crispy on the outside, soft and moist on the inside. Taking a bite, the rich buttery aroma spread, crispiness and softness coexisting.
It was truly delicious. To think a skeleton could cook with such soul.
After the meal, Alex quickly cleaned up and caught a carriage to the Patrol Station.
