TPA 07

Chapter 7

The Gourmet’s Table (2)

Humans are creatures that constantly seek out flavor and obsess over it.

To satisfy their sense of taste, countless foods with diverse flavors have been created, and even now, development and production continue endlessly for that purpose.

That’s right.

Food is not merely a minimal means of survival required to stay alive—it is a product of desire, a way to satisfy the primal urge known as appetite.

Hunger is an instinctive, fundamental need that arises from an empty stomach, but appetite is a personal desire driven by preference—the simple thought of wanting to eat something.

“Humans are like that. Even if they’re hungry, they won’t feel appetite toward food they dislike. They just don’t feel like eating it.”

The man leisurely sliced his meat, placed it neatly into his mouth, and chewed.

“But even when they’re full, if a favorite food is placed in front of them, they’ll want to eat it.”

Being able to feel the joy of eating throughout one’s life is truly a blessing.

“Humans, in particular, develop a peculiar flavor the more you chew. The taste differs by body part, but age and gender make a very noticeable difference in texture and tenderness.”

The man—no, Epicure—called himself a perfect gourmet.

He believed himself fundamentally different from the savage beast-people who tore humans apart while they were still alive.

“Grilled, boiled, turned into juice, dried… the flavor changes completely depending on how it’s prepared. But most of them don’t understand that. All they know is how to rip and tear like brutes.”

Standing beside him, Rashur—Epicure’s personal chef and butler—cleared away the empty plate.

“How was today’s meal?”

“Quite satisfying. The meat served today tasted like that of a woman in her twenties.”

“That is correct. Today’s ingredient was a twenty-three-year-old woman with a slim build.”

“The meat had just the right amount of toughness—pleasant to chew. She must have exercised regularly. Though the sauce was too sweet.”

“I will take note of that.”

After clearing the plates, Rashur brought out dessert.

A translucent, ruby-red pudding made from blood.

“The number of children in the breeding facility has decreased significantly. We may need to procure more to meet the quota.”

“No available stock?”

“Yes. Due to increased crackdowns recently, supply has been poor.”

Epicure leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table.

Among all human meat, children were his most cherished delicacy.

For a man who consumed a child at least once a day, the shortage was nothing short of catastrophic.

“If we’re lacking, we’ll have to source them from farther away.”

“Shall I summon the hired hunters?”

“Yes. Tell them we’ll pay double the previous rate. But instruct them to hunt far from this region.”

Perhaps they had hunted too much in this area. With missing persons cases piling up, the Empire had begun a large-scale investigation.

One misstep could invite suspicion.

It would take time, but sourcing children from distant regions was the safest option.

“They must be healthy children.”

Sick meat had no right—or value—on his table.

“Rest assured. Only the finest cuts will be selected.”

Epicure rose from his seat with a relaxed smile.

“Well then, I suppose I should go soothe my anxious subjects.”

No one would ever imagine it.

That the lord of Dentallian, granted the title of count by the Emperor himself, was not human—but a beast-person.

No one would suspect that within the castle walls lay slaughterhouses for prey, nor that separate human breeding facilities existed.

To gain land and title, he had sold out his own kind and earned the Emperor’s trust. Having distinguished himself in subjugating beast-people, he was rewarded with nobility.

Now, he managed his entire territory as a private breeding ground.

Of course, the humans being raised there had no idea they were livestock.

They wouldn’t know why neighbors vanished, why family members disappeared one by one.

They would never know who orchestrated it all.

They had willingly entered a “pen” of their own making, manipulated by the hands of their “predator.”

“To think such a cruel human could exist…”

A horrifying monster.

Murmuring softly, Rashur turned away.

“Though I suppose I have no right to say that… heh.”

Knowing everything, yet killing for money, cooking for him, and endlessly abducting people—

He too was a monster.

A man who sold his fellow humans.

Another monster driven by greed.

A human worse than a beast.

The world contained far more kinds of monsters than one might expect.

It really had been a long time since Misa had rested quietly at home.

Perhaps too long—because the peace felt unfamiliar. She had always wished for rest when exhausted, but now that she had it, she didn’t know what to do.

Rolling around on the sofa, she looked at Ul reading a newspaper she didn’t remember having.

“You read the paper often?”

“No. It’s been a long time.”

“You lived in the forest before this, right?”

“Yes.”

“That must’ve been boring.”

Ul glanced at her, incredulous.

“There was no room for boredom. Every moment was suffering.”

“But not now, right? How is it? Nice?”

“It is.”

His expression softened for a moment.

Compared to their first meeting, his face looked far more at ease now.

Back then, perhaps because he was injured, he had seemed dangerously unstable.

“What would you have done if you hadn’t met me?”

“I’d still be suffering. And you’d be dead.”

“You’re really milking the fact that you saved me.”

“You’re the first human I saved by choice. Be honored.”

“You’re the first beast-person I treated, you know? Ridiculous.”

“It worked out. We help each other.”

…Not sure about that yet.

It felt more like she’d brought home a dog that only ate expensive feed.

“If you’re bored, how about stepping outside for some fresh air? The weather’s nice.”

“I was thinking that too… but you’ll come along, right?”

“Is that a problem?”

“It’s just… you stand out.”

“I told you before—your perception is unusually sharp. Most humans can’t tell beast-people from humans.”

She knew.

They looked perfectly human.

That’s why people fell victim so easily.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Sitting around doing nothing was pointless.

He’d lived isolated for so long—showing him the capital might not be bad.

“I’ll change. Get ready.”

She opened her wardrobe.

“…I really don’t have anything to wear.”

She rarely bought clothes.

No one to impress. No friends. Hunters wore imperial uniforms.

She sighed.

She couldn’t go out in uniform, and everything else was outdated and worn.

“Wait—why am I even worrying about this? It’s just a walk.”

She’d never cared about appearances before.

Flustered, she grabbed something and stepped out.

Ul stood up as if waiting.

“Let’s go.”

The weather was unusually bright.

Clear days were rare here.

Perhaps because of that, people were out in droves.

Well-dressed gentlemen and ladies filled the streets.

“Everyone dresses so elegantly.”

“This isn’t Syndra. Only the elite live here.”

“And you?”

“Hunters get special treatment. Not rich, but respected.”

Only those chosen by the Emperor could live in the capital.

Misa lived here because hunters belonged to the imperial investigation bureau.

“That just means beast-people are a huge problem.”

“All hunters are concentrated here.”

Their numbers were too few to spread out.

“Elite personnel, despite appearances.”

“Hey—drop the ‘despite appearances.’”

“A human standing against a beast-person… is impossible.”

“Which is why weapons and training exist.”

Ul quietly observed the surroundings.

On the surface, it was peaceful.

Clean. Beautiful.

“How does it look to you?”

“What?”

“Do you think anyone senses what I am?”

Misa looked around.

People glanced at him—but with admiration, not fear.

“Not at all.”

“That’s the problem.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Among human scents, there’s a lot of beast stink mixed in.”

“….”

“Many live among humans, pretending to be human.”

“…Others like you exist?”

“Yes.”

That thought was terrifying.

“How will you hunt those hiding among humans?”

As she froze, Ul pulled her into his arms.

A vehicle sped past where she’d been standing.

“This place isn’t completely safe.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Be careful. You’re different now.”

“What do you mean?”

“My pheromones remain in you. They may attract other beast-people.”

You might look like delicious prey.

“It could be useful. I might draw them out.”

“Not scared?”

“If I were, I wouldn’t have started this job.”

Ul studied her.

“How did you become a hunter?”

Her expression darkened.

After a long silence—

“It’s a secret.”

He didn’t press.

They walked silently.

Then murmurs.

A crowd.

“A child went missing.”

“This many already?”

Misa stepped forward.

“This week alone—ten children.”

Ten.

Her stomach dropped.

Then—

“I smell it.”

“Children are perfect prey for beast-people.”

“So what will you do?”

Misa smiled brightly.

“What else? We hunt them down.”