Rebuilding the restaurant took no time at all; and, thanks to the added help he got from some of his repeat customers, it was bigger and better than ever. The shiny lad had spearheaded the effort, saying they’d be happy to help build it if the new construction included a second floor for sleeping and they received free food, drink, and lodging during construction. Chef could smell a con from a mile away though, so he changed the duration of the deal to one week.
And so, that was how shadow guy finally paid off his debt, allowing him to leave and never return.
“Alright, here’s the corn I’ve been telling you about. You can shuck it and grind it up for cornmeal and—"
Chef hugged the man wearing dark leather and entirely too many weapons.
“I thought you’d left forever, but you came back with corn?! I’m giving you a raise, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”
The man tried and failed to escape the mighty grasp of the tiny goblin, squirming endlessly all the while.
“Actually, my parents were pretty worried about me after the last time, so I really shouldn’t—"
“Like I said,” the goblin pulled the man down to eye level to ensure that his appreciation was properly communicated. “Nothing you can do to stop me.”
The man groaned at the threat of indentured servitude while nearby adventurers laughed, most of them sloshed. Incidentally, that was Chef’s new favorite word. It was just so fun to say.
“Is it just me or are they even more drunk than usual?”
The goblin released his prey as they both looked at the new and improved patio, now seating well over a dozen adventurers. Aside from their profession of choice, they all had at least one more thing in common.
“Sloshed, shadow guy. They’re more sloshed than usual.”
The man shook his head as he headed into the restaurant proper to drop off the ingredients he had recently acquired for his eternal employer.
“First of all, my name is Georg or Shadow Arsenal—"
“Shadow guy, yes,”
“Second of all,” he sighed through his words, motivation plummeting by the second. “Just because you learned a new word doesn’t mean you should use it all the time. It loses power when you do that.”
Chef had been using the word a lot lately, and it hadn’t felt any less good to him yet. Perhaps this was just a fundamental difference between goblins and humans, like living in caves or cannibalism. Admittedly, Chef was beginning to miss both of those things at least a little bit.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Regardless, the answer to your question is my recently discovering the raw power of a potato. Here, smell this.”
Chef wandered over to the restaurant, grabbed a mug with a lid on it, and lifted it up for just a second for his employee to get a whiff. Shadow guy gagged, recoiling with a look of pain and disgust plastered on his face as he turned away.
“What in the six hells is that?!”
Chef smiled at the man as he swished the liquid in his ceramic mug.
“Alcohol, my favorite employee. Very strong stuff that I can mix with tasty things. Or not.”
The state of the other adventurers was a better advertisement than most for the effectiveness of his newest creation, but for some reason the shadow guy didn’t feel like getting absolutely sloshed on pure alcohol. He kept muttering something about Poison Resistance and going blind, but Chef stopped listening fairly early on.
Either way, he had plenty to do now between brewing more alcohol for his customers and trying out this legendary new ingredient, corn. Life was pretty great.
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Thruce massaged his temples as he tried to fend off a headache. No matter how large his stats became, no matter how high his level was, stress remained more powerful than him. How irksome.
The self-proclaimed Sword of Argens had insisted on sticking around even after he’d paid her, and now she was investigating the goblin’s disappearance herself. Thruce had gone out of his way to ensure only the most incompetent and corrupt officials were assigned to the case, but anyone with half a brain would be able to find the cook’s so-called hideout. The only thing stopping everyone from showing up there themselves was usually a lack of interest or fear for what was there. The Hidden Gem wasn’t so hidden these days.
It seemed that the only two people in the city actively searching for the place and unable to find it were the aforementioned church official and the adventuring guild master himself, and the adventurers being tight lipped wasn’t going to be enough to keep that secret for much longer. Hence the stress induced headache.
I could try and hire the goblin sooner rather than later. Or I could cut my losses and let her kill him. That would certainly hurt my reputation, but what are the odds I could sneak him into the city with their added scrutiny? And if the guild master could be believed, then my guard captain will be joining the hunt as soon as he’s informed about the goblin’s past.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he surveyed the overly extravagant room. An ornate rug that was one of a kind and took its creator over a year to weave covered the floor as rich tapestries of similar quality hung from each wall.
He had to leave, and it infuriated him beyond belief. If he could convince the goblin to work for him starting a week early, he could get the creature away from the incoming hornet’s nest. And while the city wouldn’t take the monster in so easily, Thruce still had his manor in the countryside just two days east of Berics.
The stress he was under was also no secret to any of the people who’d be the most suspicious of an unprompted move, meaning he could likely do so without arousing much additional attention. Hells, he could even leave the city council in charge during his absence, allowing the guild master and guard captain more say in their politicking for the duration.
While it might make him look weak from an outsider’s perspective, it would only aid his favorability with the council. If he used that down time to properly train up the goblin, he could even host a feast as thanks, inviting those same people who would look down on his actions. One taste of that divine cooking and they’d be left without words, let alone insults.
The plan could work. It might not increase his influence in the short term, but how many legendary feasts did he need to host before that changed? Two, maybe three? In just a few short years, the only thing his detractors would be able to say is that the quality of his food far outstrips his rank, but that would only propel his influence higher.
This could work.
He just needed to get the goblin on board.