"Boss, the head chef fainted again..."

"Again? This was his third time this week, correct?"

"Yes. Do you think... Should we call an ambulance this time? It seemed a little... Serious..."

"Nah... I've known him for years. That's just fatigue. Just move him into the pantry and let him sleep there for a while. And don't call an ambulance. It'd ruin the restaurant's reputation if words ran out."

"Alright! You, and you! Quickly get the head chef into the pantry and continue with your mise-en-place. We're at full occupancy tonight!"

Little did these people know, this was the last time they heard from their head chef, Chengzi, also known as Nick.

He was a young and talented chef.

Well known for being the consecutive winner of both Child and Adult Masterchef Competition, Nick was scouted by the world's most reputable culinary school before he turned eighteen.

While all his friends were spending their youth in some colleges and universities, studying for their diplomas and doctorate degrees, Nick was already at the center of the public's eyes.

World's most talented Chef. Youngest candidate with the Michelin Culinary Award. Most Influential youth and person of the year in Times Magazine.

He had been featured on multiple magazines covers in his twenties. Before his thirties, Nick had already seen almost all of the world's most influential individuals, including the president, the queen, the chairman, and other royalties.

The number of phenomenal dishes coming out of his hand was countless.

But regardless, Nick's preferences suddenly returned to the origin of food when he reached his thirties and started prioritizing his craft of taste instead of appearance. The sudden decision naturally bewildered many people, but he decided not to comment.

His obsession went further until the opening of his own restaurant called [Harmony.]

Eventually, he gave in his everything until the fatigue accumulated over the years got him. Even if he had noticed this earlier, Nick was already at the point of no return.

...

(Have you rested enough?)

A voice came into his head and woke Nick up from his slumber.

Perhaps, this was the first time he was asleep so soundly over the years. It was too comfortable and warm, to the point Nick lost his sense of time.

Although he awoke, Nick found it struggling to open his eyes. It felt like his eyelids had been glued together from napping too long and stuck in place. And when he finally got his eyes opened, he was greeted by a ray of blinding light.

Thanks to the warmth around him, it felt like he was sleeping under the sun. But he soon noticed something weird and indescribable.

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"How good if the kitchen maintained such a temperature at all times. Should I suggest adding another ventilator to Alfred (the Boss, his partner in Harmony)?" Nick whispered before noticing something different.

He tried to move around but quickly noticed that he no longer had any limbs on him. Let alone his limbs. He couldn't even smell, touch, or taste anything. And apparently, his sight and sense of warmth earlier were just a touch of sensation that lingered in his mind.

"Gasp! Where is this? What happened?" 

Nick was in disbelief. He tried to open his mouth and made a noise, but unfortunately, he had no mouth to speak. If there was a mirror right now, he would notice that he appeared no different from a will-o-wisp.

(It appears that you're fully awake right now...)

The voice came again. This time, the tone in use was much more soothing and understanding.

"Where is this place, please? What happened? Have I died?" Nick asked. But he quickly realized that all his questions were just a burst of thoughts. He had no mouth to make a sound.

His memory also quickly returned to him, reminding him that he was in the middle of preparing the food before he succumbed to his fatigue.

(In a manner you could understand, yes. You've died. This place is the Hall of Souls or where the people called Heaven...)

The voice replied.

Nick is obviously not buying the answer. But he had no other choice except to accept this. His current body was merely a wisp of flame that could be extinguished by a gentle breeze.

(Nick Chengzi, thirty-six this year. Single, with no spouse or children. Both parents passed away ten years ago in an unfortunate accident. Your cause of death is fatigue from overwork, lack of sleep, high blood pressure, anemia, Lung-Inflammation, and Kidney and Liver failure...)

(Honestly, you should be happy. If your stomach cancer and stroke came first, you would struggle in the intensive care Unit for a year or two before passing away... Passing away peacefully like this is the best you could ask for...)

The voice added. Apparently, this was how it expressed its emotion from the reply.

'Ah... So the abdominal pain I got there is really stomach cancer? Also, stroke?'

Nick was speechless. He knew something was wrong with his body, but he had yet to make an appointment for a full-body checkup because he was too busy.

(Have you calmed down now?)

The voice asked.

Nick didn't respond to the question. Even if he did, there wouldn't be any sound coming out from him. But his silence was more than enough for the voice to continue.

(You must be curious about why you're here...)

The voice continued.

After he calmed himself down, this was naturally the first question Nick had in his mind.

(I admire your skills and devotion and would like to offer you another chance to pursue the same profession. But do you still have the passion for continuing?)

The voice asked.

This question brought Nick into deep thought. He had long forgotten how he came into this profession or how it started. Furthermore, he had been too busy to care and drowned himself in forging his food-making path.

It could be for his parents, but their appearances are no longer as vivid as back then. Now, he could vaguely remember how they looked.

Nick continues to ponder. He could have lost the reason that got him into cooking. But one thing for sure is his passion for this profession is real. There's nothing brought him more happiness than cooking.

(It appears that you have the answer to the question I asked. I would skip all the pretense pleasantries and bestow you with another chance. Perhaps, you would find much more than what you deserve down there...)

(I wish you fortune down there, and enjoy your second life...)

The warm light in Nick's sight got brighter after the sentence and thoroughly blinded Nick's vision.

"Wait! You didn't tell me what I need to do!" Nick had more to ask, but he was not permitted to do so.

After a great deal of mental turbulence, he regained some sense of his touch and smell. He could feel his hands and legs and smell the air surrounding him. And weirdly, it smells like burning wood and blood in the air.

Then, his sense of sight followed. Nick struggled to open his eyes, only to notice that he was in the middle of a puddle of blood. His sense of taste and hearing also quickly returned and let him grasp the reality of his surrounding.

This is likely not his original body, the aboriginal of this world. Looking at the wound on the chest, the real owner of this body should be dead after he got attacked by a weapon akin to a broadsword.

"Captain! We got a survivor over there!" someone yelled from afar while Nick was trying to grasp his situation.