The morning sun rose slowly, painting the sky orange and pink. Somewhere far away, a monkey sneezed. Much closer, Hwan Do was panicking.
"Zhu Bao's gone!" he said, shoving a note at Seo Rin.
She read the messy handwriting:
"Gone to duel a fire-breathing dragon chef. If I die, get revenge with EXTRA SPICY sauce. (P.S. Yes, I know he breathes flames—that's the POINT. Let him taste his own medicine.)"
Seo Rin stared. "This idiot thinks spicy sauce will hurt… a creature that cooks with its own fire breath?"
Hwan Do blinked. "Maybe it's… symbolic revenge?"
"Symbolic of being an idiot."
"This wasn't the first time the pig had gotten into trouble. Last time, he'd pickled himself in ginseng brine for flavor. When he came out, he smelled terrible and would only speak in terrible food poetry:"
"Spring rain falls… My skin is now a pickle… …worth it for the crunch."
"We'll find him," Seo Rin said, stretching. "But when we do? He's buying us hotpot for a month to make up for this."
A Dragon's Cauldron loomed ahead, shaped like an upside-down cooking pot. Towering ladles stood where normal buildings would have spires. The roof tiles looked like crispy dumplings. And wrapped around the base, a massive, golden-scaled dragon, snoring puffs of fire while wearing a tiny chef's hat.
Hwan Do gulped. "That's... a very fancy restaurant."
Seo Rin tightened her sword belt. "It's the Divine Dinner Duel arena. Loser becomes tomorrow's special."
"You're joking."
"Am I?" Her grin showed teeth.
Inside, they found Zhu Bao standing on a stool, waving a spatula like a sword at the now-awake dragon chef. The golden dragon towered over him, smoke curling from its nostrils as it stared at the disgusting mess bubbling in the pig's cooking pot.
"PEANUT OIL IS PERFECTLY FINE!" Zhu Bao shouted, waving his spatula like a battle flag.
The dragon chef's tail smashed down, rattling the pots. "THAT'S BLASPHEMY IN MY KITCHEN!"
Hwan Do squeaked. "He's picking a fight with a dragon... over COOKING OIL?"
Long Li's golden eyes locked onto them. "You." A claw jabbed at Hwan Do. "Sous-chef." Then at Seo Rin. "Judge."
She crossed her arms. "Why me?"
Long Li sniffed. "You've the air of someone who's stabbed a man for overcooking noodles."
"…Fair."
The Cooking Challenge Rules:
Make three dishes
Each dish must show your true self
No crying (unless it's from onions)
First Dish: "Sad Dumplings" Zhu Bao pushed dough into Hwan Do's hands. "Put your worst memories inside."
Hwan Do thought about:
His old teachers' disappointed faces
The time he ruined Seo Rin's special tea
Every morning he overslept instead of training
The dumpling started leaking broth like tears.
Seo Rin took a bite. "Tastes like you apologizing for being alive." She thought for a second. "...But in a nice way."
Second Dish: "Hopeless Stir-Fry" Hwan Do threw hope into the pan. It burned instantly.
"Your dreams are too sticky!" Zhu Bao yelled. "Mix in some failure!"
They added:
Some almost-died experiences
Flower petals (for deep meaning)
That feeling of never being good enough
It smelled like bad life choices and burnt garlic.
Seo Rin chewed slowly. "This tastes like... someone who won't give up even when they should." She smirked. "Dumb but tasty."
The dragon chef licked the plate clean.
Final Dish: "Just You" No fancy cooking. No tricks. Just be honest.
Hwan Do closed his eyes and remembered:
The ghost bride's unfinished lullaby
Zhu Bao laughing during rainstorms
How Seo Rin's clothes moved when she put her sword away
He made simple rice porridge with nothing extra.
Seo Rin's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. Then...
She smiled. Not her usual sharp grin. The soft one that made Hwan Do's chest hurt.
The dragon chef bowed. "Hiding big feelings in simple food... That's either very brave or very scared." He shrugged. "Maybe both."
Aftermath
Zhu Bao collapsed, snoring. Hwan Do glanced at him, then leaned down and whispered loudly, "Too bad. I guess someone's going to miss out on the legendary Decomposed Log & Earthworm Truffle Gathering..." Zhu Bao's ears twitched, then his eyes snapped open, a single word escaping his snout: "FEAST?!"
Long Li presented a gift: a sealed scroll.
"Inside is the map to the Nine-Star Spoon located in the Saltwind Desert, the first key to the Forbidden Banquet. If the Butcher is stirring his pot… you must gather the utensils of Heaven."
Hwan Do blinked. "Wait. The Heavenly Butcher is real?"
Seo Rin's face darkened. "Yes. And this just became much more dangerous."
Hwan Do took the scroll, hand trembling. "This really escalated from 'make dinner' to 'save the world'."
Long Li grinned. "Such is the Murim way."
His vast form began to turn, a silent invitation to follow.
Long Li escorted them to the palace's edge where a spiraling staircase of steam and smoke descended to the ground. "Your path divides below," he rumbled, his chef's hat tilting toward the distant mountains.
As they stepped onto solid earth again, the Dragon's Cauldron floated behind them, its dumpling roofs glistening, ladle towers casting long shadows across their path. Ahead, the mountain road forked.
One path led toward the Grand Sect Summit. The other, a narrow trail toward the Saltwind Desert.
Seo Rin's brow furrowed. "If we take the Summit road now, we arrive in two days."
Long Li placed the scroll in Hwan Do's hands. "But if you ignore this, the Butcher will have the Nine-Star Spoon before the Summit even begins.
And if he brings it there," His gaze darkened. "the Banquet will be forced open."
Seo Rin's grip tightened. "The Summit will be meaningless if the Butcher controls one of the utensils of Heaven."
Zhu Bao groaned. "So… straight to the death trap, then back to the boring talk-fests? Yeah, sounds about right."
Hwan Do stared at the fork. "How much time do we lose?"
"Three days," Seo Rin admitted. "If we're lucky."
Hwan Do sighed. "Then we'd better make it two."
With a final, knowing glance, the great dragon turned, his immense form melting back into the grandeur of the Cauldron, leaving the trio alone with their new, daunting destiny.
They turned toward the desert. The wind howled, as if warning them they were already too late.
Somewhere in the dark, the Butcher stirred his cauldron. A single petal swirled, forming Hwan Do's face in the broth.
"Soon," he whispered.