The Rolling Hearth was parked in the middle of the Queen's amphitheater. Harpies crouched on every ledge, wings mantled, eyes unblinking. The Queen waited, her gaze drilling into the truck like a predator waiting for the kill.
Inside, chaos.
Riku yanked a slimy, purple-scaled carcass off the roof and dumped it onto the counter. It hit with a wet squelch, coiled tail flopping limply against the fryer.
"…Snake?" Riku guessed, voice thin. "But it's got gills. And feathers. A… feathergill snake?"
Hiroshi prodded the thing with a pair of tongs. Its skin sparked faintly. He pulled his hand back fast."Okay. Not just a snake. Electric snake. That's new. Can we… sashimi it?"
"Sashimi?! Are you insane?!" Riku hissed. "What if it's toxic?!"
"What if it tastes like tuna?" Hiroshi shot back. "The Queen's staring at us like she's two seconds from ripping the truck in half!"
THUD. Another corpse dropped onto the roof above them. This time, a hulking, four-legged lizard with horns like antlers and scales that glittered like coins.
Riku swore. "Dragon goat. Or goat dragon. I don't care. Hoof thing. Meat's meat."
"Goat curry?" Hiroshi suggested, wild-eyed.
"Fine, goat curry. Except—" Riku jabbed the carcass. The blade bounced off. "—the hide's tougher than a tank!"
"Then braise it!" Hiroshi shouted. "Low and slow! Pressure cooker!"
"We don't have eight hours!" Riku snapped, but he was already hauling out the biggest pot they had.
Meanwhile, Hiroshi wrestled the electric snake onto a cutting board. Every slice made the lights in the truck flicker. He cursed, sparks biting at his hands. "Okay, plan B: grill it. Fire cancels electricity, right?"
"Does that sound like science to you?!"
"DOES ANYTHING SOUND LIKE SCIENCE RIGHT NOW?!"
The fryer beeped angrily as Riku dropped chunks of unidentifiable lizard flesh into hot oil. Neon-green fat popped and hissed, coating the glass in sizzling droplets. The smell was sharp, metallic, almost like ozone.
The brothers froze as a harpy's claw scraped the serving hatch, rattling it in impatience.
"Okay," Hiroshi panted, plating up sparking snake skewers slick with garlic oil. "Best case, it's like unagi. Worst case, we all die."
"Comforting," Riku muttered, ladling bubbling stew of dragon-goat meat into a bowl that glowed faintly from the broth's strange chemicals.
The hatch creaked open.
A harpy's head shoved in—jagged beak snapping, eyes rolling with hunger. Riku shoved the bowl forward with trembling hands. The harpy seized it, tilted back, and swallowed the contents whole.
Silence.
Then—
The harpy shrieked, wings flaring. The amphitheater roared as the entire flock screeched in response, shaking the mountain.
"Uh," Hiroshi whispered, sweat running down his neck. "Was that… good shrieking or bad shrieking?"
Above them, the Queen leaned forward, talons curling, lips pulling back from needle teeth. Her voice rumbled like thunder:
"More. But different. Each of you."
Riku and Hiroshi froze, then turned slowly toward each other.
"…She's making us compete," Riku muttered.
"In front of an audience of a thousand flesh-hungry bird monsters," Hiroshi added.
The harpies screeched and clattered their talons, wings beating like applause. A duel. A show. A feast.
Riku swallowed hard. "Fine. Then let's cook."
They climbed onto the roof and each grabbed a carcass from the grotesque buffet pile. Riku dragged down the sparking serpent, its feathery gills limp but still twitching with residual current. Hiroshi hefted the goat-dragon, horns gleaming, hide cracked but steaming faintly from within.
"Snake's mine," Riku said, already thinking aloud. "Slender body, delicate meat—closest thing is eel. Unagi. Teriyaki glaze, rice bowl. Keep it simple, focus on balance."
"Goat-dragon's mine," Hiroshi grunted, hauling it onto the counter. "Tough cuts, rich marrow… stew. Somali suugo. Pasta, spiced tomato base, cloves, cardamom—something hearty, something that hits hard."
"And we pray to every god this Queen recognizes that she likes carbs," Riku muttered.
The Rolling Hearth became a battlefield.
Riku sliced the serpent into fillets, each cut releasing sparks that made his knife hand jump. He cursed, wrapped the handle in a towel, and pressed on. Soy, mirin, sugar—he whisked a glaze together with shaking hands. The sizzling meat filled the truck with a sharp, smoky sweetness.
On the other side, Hiroshi slammed a cleaver into goat-dragon haunch. The blade skittered, sparks flying. He snarled and dragged out a hammer. Bang. Bang. Bang. Chunks of meat finally split free, tossed into the pot with onions and crushed tomatoes. He dumped spices in by instinct, the air filling with the warm, earthy bite of cardamom and cinnamon.
"Smells like Mom's kitchen," he muttered, a wry smile cutting through the sweat.
"Yeah, well, mine smells like the summer festival in Kyoto," Riku shot back, brushing glaze over the sizzling serpent.
The amphitheater trembled with harpy cries. The smell was drawing them wild, wings scraping stone, claws gouging the walls as they pressed closer.
Finally, both dishes hit the counter.
Riku presented his Lightning Unagi Don: glazed serpent fillets crackling faintly with leftover electricity, laid over steaming white rice, garnished with pickled ginger.
Hiroshi offered his Dragon-Goat Suugo: thick pasta tangled in a deep-red sauce, meat glistening, spiced steam rising in comforting waves.
The Queen rose. The court fell silent.
She leaned down, talons curling around each dish. Her black tongue flicked across jagged teeth as she tasted first Riku's, then Hiroshi's.
Riku's dish:
Creature: Feathergill Lightning Serpent (Serpens electrica pluma)Flavor profile guess: Like eel, but firmer; faint electric tang that "numbs" the tongue like Szechuan pepper.Method: Grilled fillets with teriyaki glaze.
Ingredients:
1 Lightning Serpent, skinned and filleted
1 cup rice
½ cup soy sauce
½ cup mirin
2 tbsp sugar
Pickled ginger
Steps:
Prepare teriyaki glaze: simmer soy, mirin, and sugar until thick and glossy.
Carefully slice fillets (warning: knife may spark—keep damp cloth nearby).
Grill serpent fillets over charcoal (flame neutralizes leftover static charge).
Brush glaze generously until caramelized and sticky.
Serve fillets over steaming rice with ginger garnish.
Taste result: Sweet-savory, with a faint electric fizz at the back of the tongue. A nostalgic Japanese comfort dish, with a supernatural kick.
Hiroshi's dish:
Creature: Dragon-Goat (Capradraco ferox)Flavor profile guess: Gamey like mutton, but with a deep, mineral-rich tang (like liver) from the "glittering" scales.Method: Stew — soften the meat and blend with strong spices.
Ingredients:
1 haunch Dragon-Goat meat, cubed
2 onions, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 tomatoes
2 tbsp tomato paste
Spices: cardamom pods, cinnamon stick, black pepper, ground cumin
Fresh coriander
Oil for browning
Pasta
Steps:
Heat oil in a deep pot, sauté onions and garlic until golden.
Brown dragon-goat meat (warning: do not sear too long, or the marrow leaks phosphorescent goo that tastes metallic).
Stir in tomatoes and paste until sauce deepens to a rich red.
Add spices, cover, and simmer low until meat softens (around 1 hour… or "until the horns stop twitching").
Toss cooked pasta in sauce. Serve steaming, with meat piled on top.
Taste result: A bold, hearty stew-pasta with a warming spice that lingers on the tongue. Perfect for creatures that demand filling, robust meals.
The Harpy Queen leaned back on her jagged obsidian throne, talons loose, wings drooping like a great stormbird folding after battle. Her eyes, once molten and merciless, flickered half-shut.
Her chest rose and fell in slow, rumbling breaths. A low croak escaped her throat—a sound that might've been a roar if she weren't too full to care.
The amphitheater had gone strangely quiet. Harpies perched along the cliffs, heads cocked, watching their Queen as if afraid to move while she digested. A few licked sauce from their claws.
Riku pressed himself against the driver's seat, whispering, "She's… sleeping, right? That's snoring, right?"
Hiroshi nodded, eyes wide, hands already fumbling for the keys. "Yep. Out cold. Meat coma. We did it."
The food truck's engine coughed when Hiroshi turned the ignition. Both brothers froze.
The Queen's eyelid twitched. A single feather drifted from her wing and spiraled to the stone floor.
"…go. Slowly," Riku hissed, clutching the counter like it was a lifeline.
Hiroshi inched the truck into gear. The Rolling Hearth crept across the throne chamber, tires squealing just a little too loudly on the slick stone.
Every harpy eye turned toward them.
A bead of sweat slid down Riku's face. "They're staring. Why are they staring?!"
"They're debating," Hiroshi whispered back.
"Debating what?!"
"Whether to eat us now or let Mom finish her nap."
The Queen gave a groan so deep the whole mountain rumbled. Her wing twitched. The harpies froze, then, one by one, dipped their heads and looked away, as if mirroring her slumber.
Riku's voice was a strained whisper. "We are driving out of here. Right now. As quiet as a ninja cat burglar. On tiptoes. In a two-ton food truck."
Hiroshi's grin was sharp despite the terror. "Yeah. Best getaway ever."
The Rolling Hearth rolled forward, tires crunching gravel, disappearing into the winding tunnels of the mountain. The further they went, the more the echoes of harpy shrieks faded behind them—replaced by the steady purr of the engine and the brothers' shaky laughter.
They'd survived. Somehow.
"…Until she wakes up," Riku muttered darkly.
The Harpy Queen's head drooped forward, chin resting against her jagged breastplate of bone and feathers. A thunderous snore rolled out of her, echoing across the court.
Instantly, every harpy in the amphitheater snapped into the same position: heads bowed, wings folded, like worshippers in a cathedral. The only sound was the Queen's stomach gurgling faintly in her sleep.
Inside the truck, Riku and Hiroshi sat frozen.
"…She's out," Hiroshi whispered.
Riku's hands shook as he reached for the ignition. "One noise. One. And we're fried chicken."
The food truck gave a hopeful little beep-beep! when Hiroshi turned the key.
Both brothers slapped their hands over the horn at the same time.
The Queen twitched. A thousand harpies twitched with her, feathers rustling like dry leaves.
Riku mouthed: Go.
Hiroshi eased the truck forward, tires squeaking. The Rolling Hearth crawled across the stone floor at an agonizing snail's pace.
Then the back bumper knocked over a massive bone goblet filled with some kind of glowing nectar.
CLAAAAANG.
Both brothers screamed internally.
The Queen gave a grunt in her sleep, one wing twitching. A ripple ran through the court as harpies shuffled nervously.
Thinking fast, Riku leaned out the service hatch, grabbed a leftover lightning-serpent skewer, and tossed it across the floor. The nearest harpies swarmed it instantly, squawking and tearing into the meat.
"Distraction," Riku gasped. "Classic survival tactic."
The truck kept inching forward. Another clatter—this time a hanging net of bones brushed the roof with a dry rattle-rattle-rattle.
The Queen stirred.
Her voice boomed, half-asleep: "…more…sauce…"
The harpies screamed in joy, flapping their wings as if it were a royal command. They rushed the food truck, pounding on the sides——except they weren't attacking.
They were cheering.
"More! More! More!" they shrieked in chorus.
Hiroshi's eyes went wide. "They think it's a midnight snack run!"
"Nope," Riku said, slamming his palm on the dashboard. "Kitchen closed! No refills!"
The Rolling Hearth shot forward, Hiroshi flooring the gas. Harpies swarmed after them, flapping through the cavern, but the truck picked up speed, bouncing over rocks and careening down a slope.
"WHEEEEEE!" Hiroshi whooped, steering like a maniac.
"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Riku screamed, clutching a pot lid like a seatbelt.
Behind them, the Queen's snoring returned, deeper than before, vibrating the entire mountain. The harpies gradually slowed, unwilling to wake their empress.
The truck burst out of a tunnel into open night sky, tires skidding onto a dirt path that wound down the mountain.
Silence.
Riku slumped against the window. "I hate this world."
Hiroshi grinned ear to ear. "But admit it… that was the best service we've ever had."
The Rolling Hearth rattled into the night, leaving behind the snores of a sleeping monster queen and the world's angriest unpaid customers.