A Recipe for Disaster

It was a typical Saturday afternoon in Tokyo, and Riku Tanaka found himself scrolling aimlessly through his phone, as he usually did on his days off. The latest viral trends came and went like clockwork, but one caught his eye—a cooking challenge that had exploded on social media overnight.

"Try the Summoning Dance Cooking Challenge!" the video’s flashy title proclaimed. The thumbnail showed a group of teens dancing around a kitchen counter, ingredients scattered about, and their faces lit with anticipation. Riku watched the video with mild interest as the group performed a series of strange but rhythmic dance moves while preparing a dish that looked like some sort of stew.

“Summoning Dance?” Riku muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow. The comments were filled with excited reactions, some even claiming they had seen strange things after following the steps exactly. Ghosts, spirits, even glimpses of other worlds. Riku chuckled, thinking it was all just clever editing and overactive imaginations.

Still, the idea of making a meal seemed appealing. His stomach grumbled in agreement. “Well, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he said, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen.

Riku wasn’t much of a cook, but he prided himself on being able to follow instructions, and the recipe in the video seemed straightforward enough. The dance, however, was another story. He wasn’t exactly the most coordinated person—his friends often joked that his two left feet were a danger to himself and others. But the challenge was supposed to be fun, and he could use a good laugh, even if it was at his own expense.

He gathered the ingredients as listed in the video: chicken, vegetables, some spices he hadn’t used in years, and a strange old cookbook he found buried in the back of the cupboard. The cover was worn, and the pages yellowed with age. It looked like something his grandmother might have owned, though he didn’t remember ever seeing it before. The title was written in faded kanji: "The Cook's Grimoire."

Riku shrugged, figuring it would add to the mystique of the challenge. He placed the book on the counter and opened it to a random page, where a recipe for "Devil's Broth" was written in elegant script. The instructions were simple, though the ingredients were more than a little odd: "A dash of nightshade, a pinch of stardust, and a single tear from a forgotten god."

“Well, I guess I’ll improvise,” Riku muttered, replacing the bizarre ingredients with their more mundane counterparts: pepper, salt, and a splash of soy sauce.

Once everything was prepped, Riku set his phone on the counter, queued up the music from the viral video, and prepared himself for the dance. As the beat started, he awkwardly shuffled around the kitchen, trying to mimic the steps. His arms flailed, and he nearly knocked over a pot of boiling water, but he couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he must have looked.

“Good thing no one’s here to see this,” Riku said, wiping sweat from his brow as he finished the final move—a dramatic spin that ended with him sprinkling the spices into the pot.

For a moment, nothing happened. The stew bubbled softly, and the aroma of cooked chicken filled the kitchen. Riku sighed, a bit disappointed that there was no sudden apparition or ghostly figure appearing to congratulate him on his culinary efforts.

But then, the air around him seemed to shift. The temperature dropped, and the lights flickered. Riku frowned, thinking it was just a power surge, until he noticed the pot on the stove. The broth inside had turned a deep, unnatural shade of purple, and strange symbols began to glow faintly around the rim.

“Uh… I don’t think that’s supposed to happen,” Riku said, stepping back. The room grew colder, and the symbols pulsed with an eerie light. Before Riku could react, a plume of smoke erupted from the pot, filling the kitchen with a thick, swirling fog.

Riku coughed, waving his hands to clear the smoke, but it was no use. The fog was too dense, and he could barely see a foot in front of him. Panic set in as he realized he had no idea what was happening. Was this some kind of prank? Had he actually summoned something?

His heart raced as a shadowy figure emerged from the fog. It was tall and slender, with glowing red eyes that pierced through the haze. Riku froze, his mind racing through all the horror movies he’d ever seen. But before he could scream or run, the figure stepped forward, revealing itself to be… a man?

“Finally, someone competent enough to summon me,” the man said with a sigh of relief. He was dressed in an elegant, old-fashioned suit, with a crimson tie and a sharp, mischievous grin on his face. His hair was a deep shade of black, slicked back, and he had a devilish charm that was both unsettling and oddly captivating.

“Who—who are you?” Riku stammered, backing away.

The man’s grin widened. “The name’s Lucian, but you may call me Master Chef Lucian, if you prefer.” He bowed dramatically, as if he were some kind of aristocrat.

“Master… Chef?” Riku blinked in confusion. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way he had actually summoned someone from another world by making stew.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s a bit much, but I do have a reputation to maintain,” Lucian said, waving his hand dismissively. He looked around the kitchen with a critical eye, his expression turning sour. “But what in the seven hells is this? This kitchen is an absolute disaster! And what is this… abomination in the pot?”

Lucian marched over to the stove, peering into the bubbling concoction with a look of disgust. “This is not Devil’s Broth! This is… this is culinary blasphemy!”

“Hey, I just followed the recipe!” Riku protested, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “I didn’t have nightshade or stardust or whatever, so I substituted with what I had.”

Lucian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You mortals and your substitutions. This is why summoning rituals should be left to the professionals.”

Riku felt a spark of annoyance. “Well, excuse me for not having magical ingredients lying around! I didn’t even know this would actually work!”

Lucian’s expression softened slightly, and he chuckled. “Fair point. But still, you’ve summoned me, and now we have a problem.”

“Problem?” Riku echoed, his stomach sinking.

“Yes, problem,” Lucian said, crossing his arms. “You’ve disrupted the balance between our worlds by summoning me with an incomplete ritual. If we don’t fix this, more creatures—less pleasant ones, mind you—might start slipping through.”

Riku’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious,” Lucian replied. “But don’t worry, you have me on your side. Together, we’ll fix this mess… starting with this kitchen.”

Riku couldn’t tell if he should be relieved or more worried. But as Lucian rolled up his sleeves and started barking orders, there was a strange sense of camaraderie that settled over the room. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.