Throughout the morning of his fifth day as a teacher, Thomas was on tenterhooks.

Whether or not his students would honour their agreement and show up at the classroom weighed on him heavily. While he woke up early, as he typically did, and had plenty of time to choose decent clothes and tidy himself up, his nerves refused to settle. And he ended up wearing the same tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt, creased tan slacks, and worn-out loafers on his way to the cafeteria, with the intention of eating his stress away.

It was his first time here; the brick structure, located at the heart of campus, was made easily accessible to both students and professors. Rows of archways marked the entrance to the spacious hall. Since the sun had barely risen, the canteen was practically empty. And shuffling up past trestle tables and lonely diners to the gnomish dinner lady manning the counter, the man gazed at the board dangling overhead.

As he quietly looked over the options, the middle-aged, diminutive, thick-lipped dinner lady in a hairnet that covered her grey locks and an apron. Standing on a crate, she looked up at him with a big smile.

"Now, there's a new face! Haven't seen you around, mister! What would you like?"

"One of everything..."

"Say that again?"

"One of each menu item, please..."

Although this request usually baffled most people, the gnomish woman merely crossed her arms and bore a serious expression. "Hoh? The headmaster told me you'd come."

"G-Grimwald did?"

"So you finally showed yourself. I figured you were a myth. Are the stories true, then? Do you really have a bottomless pit for a stomach?"

"I... I don't know about bottomless, but... it is true I eat a lot..."

"Hmph, spare me your modesty. I've heard you cleared out every joint you go to, from Linxuei to Wenton. To restaurant owners, you're a force to be reckoned with. A beast more appetite than man!"

"That's definitely an exaggeration..."

And she leaned in, a twinkle in her teal eyes. "Listen, as appointed dinner lady of this prestigious academy, it's my duty to make certain every man, woman, and child leaves here absolutely stuffed—fattened up like cattle before they go about their day! The school covers all food expenses, so my number one priority is consumer satisfaction! Meaning... if your gut isn't on the cusp of bursting by the end of this meal, I've failed my job as dinner lady!"

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"Huh..."

"Which is why I ask you, mister, not to hold back. Order to your heart's content! I won't let you leave till you can barely waddle out of here. And don't you dare lie to me! I can tell when someone is replete or not... it's all in the movements."

In that instant, it dawned on Thomas that there was probably another reason the cafeteria had very few visitors. "Uh… alright. I guess I'll leave it up to you to decide my meals," the man replied, a nervous chuckle escaping him. He wasn't sure if her zealous declaration was a joke, a challenge, or some combination of the two. And the dinner lady snapped her fingers; a line of goblin cooks scurried into action behind her.

Pots clanged, steam hissed, and a waft of tantalising aromas permeated the hall. "Right, then! One of everything, as the man requested!" With the authority of a military commander, the gnome barked. "Double portions on the meat pies and the dragonfruit pancakes! Extra gravy on the roast wyvern shanks! And for dessert, the entire platter of custard-filled rockbuns! Move it, lads!"

Thomas had expected a peaceful but hearty breakfast, maybe a raised eyebrow at his order, but this seemed like a preparation for battle. As trays began to pile up at the unoccupied table he settled at, the man scratched the back of his neck, hit with a wave of déjà vu. And when the last dish was stacked before him, Thomas felt as though he was staring down an edible fortress. Eggs, bacon, sausages, pastries, stews, and much more had crowded the surface.

Hands perched on her hips, the dinner lady loomed nearby, a smug grin plastered on her face. "Well? What're you waiting for? A royal decree? Dig in! Make up for the times you missed out on breakfast!"

A little over three hours remained before classes started; the clock was ticking. Not wanting to be late for an important class, the man proceeded to feast on the assortment of food before him, first with his eyes, then with his mouth. And he cut a slice of the meat pie to begin with.

A warm, flaky crust crumbled between Thomas' teeth as the savoury juices of the meat pie burst onto his tongue. He hadn't realised just how starved he was until that moment. He swallowed quickly, reaching for the dragonfruit pancakes. Their vibrant hue of fuchsia was almost too bright to be real, but the sweet, tangy flavour proved otherwise. It struck him that the gnomish woman's passion translated into more than just theatrics—this was some of the best food he'd ever tasted.

Somewhere between the fourth plate and the sixth, a small crowd began to gather. The few early risers who'd braved the cafeteria's overbearing service had noticed the mountain of food and whispered among themselves, watching in awe as Thomas worked his way through the banquet. And a group of goblin cooks occasionally peeked out from the kitchen, exchanging bets on how far he'd get.

For every dish the man finished, another would take its place. Confident in this strategy of hers, the dinner lady smirked, believing she'd already won. Yet, never once did it appear as if Thomas would slow down. Word spread as he reached his one-hundredth plate, and by then, half the campus had swarmed the building to witness him finish his sumptuous repast. And the gnomish woman gawked at the man—her chances of filling him up plummeted with each dish he devoured.