EXTRA: One Year Earlier

“Everyone, good work. I made a cake, so have some.”

When the man said this with a smile, the staff gathered around happily.

The restaurant was doing well.
Customer traffic was steady, and the food was highly praised.
The business was in the black. The staff were capable.
Above all, his cooking was loved.

“Thank you very much!”

The staff voiced their thanks all at once.

When the box was opened, five petit gâteaux shone with a glossy glaze.
Carefully finished, it was a plate like a piece of jewelry.

“I’ll make some coffee. Everyone, have a seat.”

Everyone took their seats, chatting as they sat before the cake and coffee.
A calm, warm atmosphere filled the room.

“I’m thinking of putting this out as something new. I wanted to hear what you think of the taste.”

The moment they took a bite, their faces softened.
“Delicious!” slipped out naturally.

The part-time woman and the chefs nodded in satisfaction, while the part-time girl tilted her head.

“Somehow, it’s rich, but the aftertaste is light. Is there some kind of secret ingredient?”

While sipping his coffee, the man answered lightly.

“I mixed in a paste made from Argentine forest roaches.
It adds body. And it’s also high in nutritional value.”

Silence.

“…Argentine… what was that?”

“An edible cockroach.”

The girl’s face froze.
One of the chefs spoke with a wry smile.

“Owner, that joke’s a bit much.”

“No, it’s true.”

This time, the silence fell heavily.

The girl’s hand stopped, and the sound of her fork falling onto the plate rang out.
She slowly lowered her gaze, covered her mouth, and stood up.

“…No way…”

Still pale, she rushed off toward the restroom.
The part-time woman followed after her, while the remaining chefs looked on with a mix of confusion and anger.

“That was really too much…”
“Was it actually in there?”

The man nodded quietly.
He lowered his gaze and did not meet anyone’s eyes.

As he listened to the staff’s reproachful voices, the man was thinking.

Everyone had taken a bite. Without noticing, with smiles on their faces
If not for what he had just said, they would probably still be smiling even now.

But that would be meaningless. He wanted more—moments when hands would stop.
How could he do it…?

At the edge of his vision, he saw a black mass.
It was chocolate stuck to a plate, but to him, it looked like something else.

“…I see… so this was it.”

The man stood up, his chair scraping as it moved.

“Owner…?”

Ignoring the call, the man passed through the kitchen and rushed straight out of the restaurant.

One year later, pushing past considerable opposition—
he would go on to open a restaurant that served only “dishes that would be etched into memory.”