I need to talk to my friends.

I haven’t told them jack about what happened to me, not even a real mention. I have been extremely fuzzy on the details of my training, and the celebrations after the duel and Appius’s death feel like a hazy dream at the moment.

I’ll have to swing by the Adventurers’ Guild later, but now… now, it’s time to go back to normal.

I enter through the main entrance of Happy Bakery, finding the usual calm that one finds after the night shift ends. The corridor leading to the kitchen lab is completely empty, so I make my way through it without making noise. Walking around with a 260-pounder on your back all the time really does miracles to your steps once you take it off; it’s very much like Goku’s weighed clothes. I’m just missing an instant blond dye to add some spice to my life, I suppose.

Anyway, I think to myself as I peek behind the door. Everyone is huddled around a table. Huh? How come so many people are still here?

All the employees from the night shift are still here – a massive crowd spread around a single point. However, you can only hear one voice.

“So, you have to be extremely careful not to let the butter melt!” Flaminia’s voice resounds through the bakery. “See? You move your hands like—yes, like that. Keep going, and then shift it on top of the cooling rune. You can also do that if you feel insecure. It took me a while to get acquainted with it. The most important thing is not to zone out during the process. Stay focused on the dough. Feel the dough.”

Huh?

Is she teaching others?

I can barely catch a few glimpses of the woman’s pink locks as the crowd shields her from my sight. No one has yet noticed I’m here, all enraptured by what the pink-haired [Chef] is doing.

“Yes, yes! Keep it up! Don’t slow down! Good, good. Now, Tiberius, you have fast hands; would you mind bringing those—yes, those three. Teach them the first steps on the side tables, please. Quintus, be gentler; you are squeezing out the butter!”

She’s not just teaching others; she’s getting Tiberius and Quintus how to help.

I just stand around for fifteen more minutes without entering the kitchen proper, just spying from the shadows. Only when I see the crowd part and Flaminia take a deep breath as she props herself up with her hand on the countertop do I walk in.

“Joey!” She gasps when she sees me. “You ran away yesterday! Our [Champion] is here!”

I raise my hands, blushing a little.

“Hey, Flam,” I smile, “sorry about yesterday. I was in a weird mood.”

“Oh, don’t worry! I’m sure you needed some rest!”

She beams a smile at me. Her pearly-white teeth almost intimidate me.

Have I ever seen her like this? Is she on speed?

“[Chef]!” Quintus looks up from the table he’s working at and waves at me with a hand glistening with butter. Tiberius follows suit, but they both stay there, helping the girls with their work.

“Damn, you are putting my boys through the work,” I squeeze the words out as Flaminia gives me a strong, quick hug.

“I must!” She laughs. “And you have no idea what I need to show you. All that steak cooking helped me consolidate for some reason!”

“Consolidate?” I ask, confused.

“I have consolidated a new class! A golden one!” She shout-whispers to me. “I haven’t even told Clodia yet! Do you have time later? I need some rest now, but I really want to discuss my skills and class with you!”

A new class?

“Wait, you got a baking class from making steak?” I frown.

“I know! And those runes you taught me – I got [Magical Chef] first, a strong class, and then, it merged everything into a golden one. Can you imagine?!”

The news is so overwhelming that I find myself just standing there in silence for a good few seconds.

Flaminia has a golden class.

Flaminia, my friend, my first ‘enemy.’ The same Flaminia that barely paid attention to how much sugar she put in cake batter and who thought that glazing an entire sponge cake with caramel was a good recipe…

She has a golden class.

"Flam, that's amazing," I finally manage to say. "You've come a long way since our bake-off."

She chuckles, her eyes twinkling with joy. "Yes, I suppose I have. I still can't believe it myself."

The kitchen has grown quiet, and all eyes are on us. Flaminia is glowing with happiness, and it's hard not to smile at her. Yet, there's a part of me that still feels left out, left behind.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"We should celebrate," I suggest, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. "The whole team. Tonight, after work, we should have a proper party. Burgers, hot dogs, and fries. Beers, too. No Elven tea, though. I’ll take care of it, Flam.”

…

I look at the girl, whose name eludes me, operating the bread mixer with the help of a Mana stone and then at Flaminia, who’s reaching out to the struggling girl and powering the machine with her own Mana.

“[Chef], we have been working even harder on the Mimosa cake. That’s what we have been thinking is—”

I almost zone out as Quintus explains his ideas for decorating the cake in a more Elven way, using mock leaves made of sugar paste. It’s a good idea, sure, but I can’t help being distracted by Flaminia’s glowing presence in the bakery. She had always been a bit domineering and unapproachable; now, though, she looks like she’s walking on sunshine.

“Yeah, that’s interesting,” I say, looking back at Quintus. “So, you have all been working hard in my absence, huh?”

“We tried our best, [Chef],” Tiberius says, nodding.

“You did,” I pat both of them on their shoulders and try to shake off the bad feelings that are attempting to crawl up my spine. “I need to speak with Clodia. Is she in the office?”

…

I look at the door and wait for a moment before knocking.

Everyone is growing. Everything is changing. It’s… tempting to just do nothing and try to go back to how everything was. But I can’t. Magister Mulligan is right—I was one step away from giving everything away just to numb myself, to get a chance not to worry about anything else ever again. But I can’t be that person anymore. I can’t shy away from things just because they don’t feel good.

I knock at the door.

“Come in,” I hear Clodia’s voice.

“Oh, Joey!” She says, seeing me enter.

“Hey, boss,” I smile.

“Damn, Human, you ran away from your own party!” She says, suddenly angered.

“Yeah… sorry about that. I needed to clear my head. I think I did—kind of. Anyway, do you mind if I sit?” I point at the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Sure,” she says, now slightly confused. “Is everything okay?”

“Heh, there’s going to be some security problems in Amorium related to a Dungeon I found, but that’s not what I’m here to discuss.”

“A what?!”

“Clodia, I’ll explain that later.”

She looks at me with a frown, but I simply stare back. Taken aback, she straightens in her seat and clears her voice. “Ok, go ahead.”

“Thanks. First, I’m sorry for the mess I’ve caused with the duel. I have no idea who or how they killed Appius, but it wasn’t me. It was most likely poison. Or something that I don’t understand. That means that [Soldiers] might come after me again at some point.”

“Don’t worry, we can hire more—”

“I don’t need more [Bodyguards],” I tell her, “Unless there’s a high-caliber [Assassin] after me, I don’t think they can touch me. And if there was a high-caliber [Assassin], I doubt some [Guards] could do much about that. I was just saying this so that you know that working with me will keep being problematic under many aspects. I just want you to understand that.”

“Human, I knew that from the first moment my idiot cousin brought you here.”

I don’t smile or laugh. I simply nod.

“Right. Listen, I have been putting this off since the moment I came here. I have liked working for you, and I must thank you greatly for the opportunity you have given me,” I say, immediately raising a hand to stop her from interrupting me, “I am not leaving Happy Bakery. I want to make you an offer, Clodia. A business offer. With contracts to sign and everything.”

“Contracts?” She raises both her eyebrows.

“I can’t promise I won’t puke on your floor, but I can sign stuff. I am also willing to take on the bureaucratic responsibilities of what I’m about to propose.”

Clodia tilts her head, her massive arms crossing in front of her chest.

“Go ahead,” she says.

“You are a wonderful person,” I tell her with complete honesty, “but you are not a good manager.”

“What did you say to me, Human?” Clodia frowns, tightening her fists.

“You are not a good manager. Not good at taking care of all the bakery’s needs. You are an excellent people-manager and clearly a star at recruiting if you managed to get Flaminia alongside so many low-level [Bakers]. Your policies are much better than what I could have ever done. However, if you want to get into real business, you have to step back and specialize.

“And look, I know I’m overstepping some boundaries, but I need to talk to you before I talk to anyone else. I have more experience than you in managing a bakery. My bakery was ten times this successful. I had ten times your space and five times as many employees. You can truth-stone me, too, if you don’t believe me. You need to be taking care of the things you are good at 27/9, not as an afterthought.”

That last part clearly rattled Clodia.

“What are you trying to tell me, Joey?”

“That we can do better. We can be bigger. We can help many more people than we currently do. I need to help all those guys back at the Pratus. But I can’t do that if you are the owner and the manager. You are simply not good enough.”

“Human, I hired you when no one else would have—”

“Clodia,” I raise my voice slightly, “I will make you an offer that will turn your mother’s hair black again. I do not intend to shaft you in any way or form. What I’m saying is that you are not fit for the job and that many people that we could be helping get a good job, men and women, are not getting that job because you cannot take the kind of load we need in order to scale up.”

Uncomfortable silence stretches between us as a flurry of emotions runs over the woman’s face.

“What do you want to do?” She finally asks, clearly trying to repress her insults.

“I will bring a business proposal to Camilla. She was clearly already interested in doing business with me. If you can put away your hate for her, we can merge into a new business. I would be the manager and owner. You, Flaminia, and the sisters would all have a share. But I call the shots, and I direct where the business is going. I have ideas, but implementing them will require hiring more people, filtering as much talent as possible, and teaching those who just need a job to survive to become effective workers who won’t just obstruct the work of others. This means we’ll reshuffle many positions, possibly taking some girls off the kitchen floor and putting them in new positions—that, by the way, would be your job, on top of recruiting and managing the personnel.”

Clodia opens and closes her mouth multiple times.

“One more thing. If you accept, I might have just found a reward down in the Dungeon that could unlock some business opportunities that you never even dreamed of. But that is only if you accept. If not, I’ll take my offer to the Three Roses next. But first, it’s up to you. You are my boss. Without your say, I won’t do anything. As for the exact percentages, we'll discuss it later—I don’t really care about that for now…”

It takes Clodia a while to frown at me, frown at herself, and then look around her office, perhaps realizing what she has constrained herself to until now.

“And you would sign a contract?” She just says. “You would open a business and take care of the overall organization?”

“Yes.”

Clodia stands up, sighing deeply and nodding at me. She extends her hand across the desk.

“I accept. Don’t make me regret this, Human. Just so you know, I’ll fight you on every clause of our agreement. Get a vomit bucket ready.”

“I will,” I say, standing up and shaking her hand.

Suddenly, the door opens and slams into the wall.

“You!” I turn to find Clodia’s mother, Marcella, staring at us with wide eyes. “What in the rotten name of the World’s Tree are you doing?!”