CHAPTER 241: ELYSIAN COOK

Adyr first focused on Marielle’s meal, preparing it with deliberate care to ease the lingering shadows etched into her mind—remnants of the Cannibal had once been buried deep within her psyche. He followed the same treatment as before, shaping the dish with painstaking precision. The plating was intentional; he used subtle food dyes to craft a faint, spectral portrait on the surface, resembling the face of the one she had loved most. A quiet gesture aimed at anchoring her fractured sense of self.

This was not just food; it was a complex message, an offering meant to unlock emotions and memories buried in her soul.

The flavor had to support the image perfectly. Drawing on one of the masks he had worn in his past life, a deep understanding of medicine, he carefully selected ingredients known for their calming and healing properties—valerian root and lavender among them.

He pushed further, adding mild painkillers and sedatives, balanced in a light sauce that wouldn’t overpower the palate but would subtly ease the troubled mind. The effect was subtle yet potent, like a soft embrace that dulled pain and anxiety without numbing the senses.

"Am I overdoing it?"

For a moment, even Adyr hesitated, questioning the ethics of the chemical breakfast he was preparing. But thinking about his bloodline talent, he quickly dismissed the doubt. Besides, the meal wasn’t harmful—in fact, it was crafted with healing properties in mind.

Turning to Niva, Adyr prepared a different blend. A sweeter, gentler sauce designed to soothe the anxiety gnawing at her from upcoming university exams and the heavy stress of familial strife. He considered her tastes, crafting something comforting and familiar that would bring her brief respite from the pressures she carried.

For Neris, Adyr’s approach was different still. He observed her quiet burden—the scars left by her parents’ fractured relationship, the sacrifices she made raising others while neglecting herself, and now the weight of caring for Zelda and Boy. His meal for her was meant to bring warmth and steadiness, a grounding comfort to ease her tension and kindle quiet hope amid the chaos of her life.

For Zelda, Adyr crafted a dish infused with the bittersweet taste of nostalgia, inspired by the hard life she endured in the village with her cruel father. Despite the harshness, he remembered how she lovingly tended to her potato crops, a rare source of comfort and hope amid the scarcity and hunger. This meal carried those memories—the earthy warmth of the potatoes mingled with flavors that evoked both struggle and care, a complex tribute to her past.

When it came to Boy, Adyr paused thoughtfully. Losing his mother had left a mark on Boy’s life that mirrored Adyr’s own story in some ways.

The memory of that moment—like a piece of meat brutally chopped on a butcher’s block—was a deep, unforgettable scar. Adyr had no intention of erasing it. Instead, he wanted Boy to embrace that memory, to draw strength from it.

This scar wasn’t a weakness but a source of power. Using primal psychology, Adyr aimed to forge Boy’s character into something ruthless, unyielding to anger or any other emotion that could be exploited. Boy was to become a prototype, shaped with inspiration drawn from Adyr’s own darker nature.

For Boy’s breakfast, Adyr prepared meals rich in lightly cooked meats, packed with protein to nourish both body and mind. He understood that eating habits are a fundamental part of the complex puzzle that shapes a person’s character from birth until death.

Nutrition doesn’t merely fuel the body—it influences brain chemistry, emotional regulation, and even cognitive development. For a young boy like Boy, whose mind was still flexible and impressionable, establishing the right eating patterns was a subtle yet powerful way to guide his psychological growth. By carefully controlling what Boy consumed, Adyr aimed to build resilience, discipline, and a balanced temperament—laying the groundwork for the person Boy was destined to become.

Every detail, every flavor, every ingredient was chosen with this goal in mind—building a strong, conscious future from the fragile foundation of a still-forming mind.

Yet even as he examined his creation, Adyr couldn’t feel satisfied. The system hadn’t notified him of any level-up in his [Cooking] talent, nor had it evolved into a bloodline variant.

Is it because not every talent can evolve into a bloodline trait? Or does it require something more specific to awaken...? He wondered, brows furrowed.

There was nothing to be done. Next time, he’d simply need to devise something more unique. A single failure wouldn’t unsettle someone like him.

After adding the final touches to each plated dish, he turned his attention to the table. He arranged it with equal care—clean, minimal, and calm. A space designed not to distract but to center the mind during a meal.

"Look at this. You’ve outdone yourself again, haven’t you?" Marielle said softly, descending the stairs. The scent in the air caught her first, calming and appetite-stirring, followed by the serene scene at the table.

"We have guests, so this much is expected, isn’t it?" Adyr replied with a quiet chuckle.

Soon after, Niva came down as well, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She wasn’t surprised. She was used to her brother welcoming them like this.

The one truly surprised was Neris.

"I’ve never been to a luxury restaurant, but... it’d probably look something like this, right?" Her eyes were wide with wonder as she studied every detail on the table.

Her gaze paused at the centerpiece—a lush bouquet that, upon closer inspection, wasn’t made of flowers at all but carefully sculpted, edible fruits. A subtle gasp left her lips.

As a single woman now raising two children on her own, she found herself briefly questioning her own cooking skills.

Zelda and Boy, too, were captivated by the sight. The table, the personal dishes crafted just for them—it all reminded them of the rare celebration days back in the orphanage. The excitement and joy were etched plainly across their faces.

As they all sat at the table, light conversation flowed at first. They praised each bite as they ate, voices filled with delight—until, slowly, the talking ceased altogether. One by one, they fell into a quiet trance, mesmerized by the food as if their minds had been gently washed clean.

It wasn’t just the chemical elements in the dishes affecting them. It was the atmosphere, the flavors, the precise details tailored uniquely for each of them.

Adyr, as always, observed. He studied the effect of his creation on every face, silently noting the strengths and the areas for improvement, committing each reaction to memory.

Then, something unexpected happened.

A system message he hadn’t seen earlier, one he had already given up on, suddenly appeared and caught him off guard

The system had recognized his [Cooking] skill at last.

And it wasn’t just a level-up.

It was an upgrade.

[Talent Recognition: "[Elysian Cook (Lv1)] (Genesis)" confirmed.]

- You are the cure for open wounds, the blade that mends all souls, the cook who grants the final roles.

- Proceed with registration to the Status Panel?

- Cost: 100 Energy

- Rewards: 20 Free Stat Points, Grace

Adyr looked at the shimmering words flashing before his eyes, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.