While Evelyn and her grandfather were having a quasi-religious dining experience, Leo was hunched over his laptop, not managing his own company, but shopping. He was browsing websites that sold professional food vendor equipment.
The taste of that soup, as crude as he knew it was, had ignited a fire in him. He had to know what would happen if he introduced modern, mass-produced food to that medieval fantasy world. It was a business experiment too tempting to ignore.
He used the new "angel investor" credit card. He didn't go crazy, but he didn't skimp either. He ordered a high-quality, collapsible food stall with a cheerful striped awning. He bought a portable, propane-powered stove with two burners. He bought a set of sturdy pots, ladles, and tongs. And finally, he went to a bulk wholesale website and placed an order for five hundred packets of assorted instant ramen noodles.
His plan was simple. Set up a noodle stall in the Plaza of Wonders. Sell a taste of Earthly convenience. Use the profits—whatever their currency was—to buy every caged fairy he could find. It was his own personal rescue operation, funded by MSG and dehydrated vegetables.
But as he clicked "Confirm Purchase" on the ramen, a sobering thought brought his entrepreneurial glee to a halt. Rescuing fairies wasn't just about buying them. The merchant he'd dealt with was a coward, easily intimidated. What if the next one wasn't? What if there was a local guild, a "Fairy Trappers Union" that didn't appreciate him disrupting their market?
He had no way to defend himself. He couldn't fight. He had never even held a sword. He thought about buying a gun—he was in a country where it was possible—but what good would a pistol be against real magic? What if a mage just waved his hand and the bullet turned to dust? What if a knight in enchanted armor was simply bulletproof? He couldn't be reckless. This new world had rules he didn't understand, and breaking them could have fatal consequences.
He needed to learn magic. But how? He couldn't enroll in some fantasy wizarding academy; he had a business to run. He had a dad to manage. Maybe he could find books? Hire a tutor from the plaza? The idea was filed away under a new, urgent mental tab: "Personal Security & Development."
Just as he was closing his laptop, his phone buzzed. It was Evelyn. Her voice, usually so calm and composed, was filled with a breathless excitement he'd never heard before.
"Leo! The vegetables... there are no words! My grandfather... Chef Antoine is weeping in the kitchen! He refuses to cook with anything else from now on. I NEED more. I need a daily supply. Whatever you have."
Leo smiled to himself. It was the reaction he had expected. "I'm not surprised you liked them," he said, enjoying the moment. "They're good on their own, but I have a tip for your chef."
"A tip? What?" she asked eagerly.
"Tell him to try making the soup again," Leo said, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing a great secret. "But this time, have him use Clarity water for the broth instead of regular water. The synergy between the vegetables and the water... it creates an explosive effect. Maximizes the flavor, and, well, the other benefits."
There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head, the dawning realization.
"...What?!" she finally burst out, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "You're telling me... you're telling me that we ate the most incredible meal of our lives, and it could have been even better?"
"Exponentially better," Leo confirmed calmly. "It's the combination that unlocks their true potential."
"Leo..." Evelyn's voice was a low, intense whisper. "The standing order for water needs to be increased. Immediately. And the vegetables... name your price for a daily supply. We need them."
"We can discuss the details tomorrow," Leo said. "I'll have a new delivery ready."
"Tomorrow!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, Leo. Thank you."
She hung up, and Leo knew she was already on the phone with her grandfather, excitedly explaining that the miracle they'd experienced was only a fraction of what was possible.
Leo leaned back, a grin on his face. He was now operating on two fronts. In one world, he was becoming the sole purveyor of the most exclusive, life-altering food known to mankind. In the other, he was about to become a humble noodle vendor on a quest to save magic fairies.
His life was getting complicated. And he had never felt more alive.