Chapter 23. Moscato's Gelato

Chapter 23. Moscato's Gelato

Ice Island was known for many things. Among them, what stood out the most was the chill and thrill of the general ice cream theme - some places frosty and others in a continuous state of endless melting. The varied colors on the landscape, from vanilla white to strawberry pink, were also key features for tourist attractions. The island had hills made of ice cream that never melted entirely, and rivers of mixed flavors that flowed through the valleys. The trees looked like they were made of gummy bears.

This place was once a wonderland for all children, and most adults that didn't want to grow up. There had been ice cream vendors everywhere, selling all kinds of flavors you could imagine. People could even skate on frozen yoghurt lakes.

However, despite its fame and popularity, Ice Island met its doom, following several major drawbacks that made any tourist never want to set foot on the island again. Ironically, the ever-present, bone-chilling cold was not a factor whatsoever. Some citizens, especially those living on warm islands like Margarine, wouldn't mind a change of atmosphere.

The reasons for the lack of prosperity were wide and varied, but two stood out the most.

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We had landed on Ice Island and were walking to meet with its minister, Charlotte Moscato, when I noticed something on the streets.

"There are more Incarnations here than in Whole Cake," I observed aloud, noticing the numbers of the large, black, humanoid blobs trolling around the town. Incarnations were some of Mama's special homies in charge of collecting the Totto Land residents' biannual payment of a month's worth of their lifespan. Since they were made from pieces of Big Mom's own extremely powerful soul, they were capable of extracting other people's souls.

"Mh, yeah," Galette nodded while looking around. "It's probably because Ice Island is notoriously known for its heavy taxation on residents' and tourists' souls. Contrary to the rules of Totto Land, Incarnations here take lifespans monthly instead of every six months."

"That's a lot too high," I said, widening my eyes in disbelief. Taking one month's worth of somebody's life every month was crazy, even for Big Mom. "Even Mama should know this is taking things a bit too far."

Galette shrugged. "Moscato managed to convince her to allow the heavy taxes. He believes it's necessary for the functionality of the island."

"What functionality?" I asked, looking around. "There are barely any people around here, and most of the buildings look like they've been abandoned for ages."

The buildings were old and dry, their tips covered by a white substance that was not snow but cotton candy, accumulated due to the lack of manpower needed to clear it. The streets were deserted, with only a few people moving about, and they looked old and dried up, as if the life had been sucked out of them. Most of them were vendors standing at their spots, staring off into the distance like they were reliving the glories of a past life when children would fight for their ice creams.

We came across a few vendors who tried to sell ice cream to us, but the manner in which they did it was eerie. One elderly man raised a popsicle with trembling hands, his voice a shrill, stretched whisper that sounded like something out of a horror movie. "I-c-e c-r-e-a-m… f-r-e-s-h i-c-e c-r-e-a-m…" he croaked, his eyes vacant and hollow.

The whole scene was glum and unsettling, despite the vibrant colors of vanilla and strawberry that decorated the landscapes. They looked as lively as ever but felt more dead than alive.

"That's what heavy taxes and a giant demon in the corridor can do to one of the most prosperous islands in the land - once upon a time," Galette said after watching me look around with horrified wonder.

Trudging on through the snowing cotton candy, we finally arrived at Moscato's residence, the Icicle Keep. The Keep was a two-sided frosted fortress that blended the beautiful art of fairy tales with the horror of nightmares. One side was decorated and dressed for wonder with bright ice cream colors, while the other side was tarnished and foreboding, like two sides of a coin.

The general characteristics were that the walls were made of ice, but not the kind that melts. This ice was hard and shiny, almost like glass. You could see your reflection in it if you got close enough.

Interestingly, sunlight never seemed to escape this island and the Icicle Keep. Despite its warmth, it never melted a bit of this palace or affected any other landscape in the area.

Icicles hung from every edge and corner of the Keep, some of them so long they nearly touched the ground. It was like the building was wearing a crown made of spikes.

As we walked in, I noticed how the heavy front gate seemed to move on its own the moment it sensed our presence. Inside, the floors were slippery as if it was always a skating session, and one had to be very careful not to fall - or just put on skating shoes. I chose to keep my boots on, making a mental note not to fall and embarrass myself.

Charlotte Moscato - skating in his shoes - personally came to welcome us at the front gate, inviting us into his Icicle Keep. Moscato had a thick torso with comparatively thin arms and legs. His face was long and unshaven, and he had pink and blue hair slicked upward at the front in the shape of a pompadour. He wore a dark blue jacket with tasselled, ice cream-shaped pauldrons and a thick belt with "SM" printed on the buckle over a striped suit.

"Welcome, brother and sister," Moscato greeted us with a respectful bow that developed into a hug. "It is an honor to have you in Ice Island. I've been expecting you ever since I received your memo."

His voice was deep and decisive. His skating, as he guided us into the Keep, was top-notch perfection, showing years of experience. He led us to a grand hall where tables were lined with an array of foods, but the most prominent were the ice creams.

Every flavor one could fathom was represented: vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, mint, mango, and even more exotic ones like matcha, lychee, and dragon fruit. The ice creams were sculpted into varied shapes, from roses to miniature castles. There were also foodstuffs that reeked of the flavor of gelato: gelato cakes, gelato pies, gelato-filled pastries, and even gelato-infused drinks.

The servants that were doing final touches on the table setting quickly skated away, respectfully with bows, as soon as they noticed our presence.

"I must apologize for not throwing a bigger feast for Mama's heir," Moscato said sincerely. "Most of my people are busy in the mines, mining gelato (ice cream). We received a big request from the Queen herself for all the best gelato we could find. Apparently, she might be planning a grand feast soon."

Before we could sit, I found my eyes fixed on the table setting, where the array of ice cream and desserts sprawled out in vivid splendour. The sight of it was irresistible, and my longing for ice cream was suddenly unbearable. The last time I had indulged in such a treat was before my isekai into this world, back when I was just Jake.

"Gor-gog…" My stomach growled audibly, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on me, wide with a mix of fear and tension. I could almost hear the collective intake of breath as everyone braced for what might come next.

"Er-er…" Moscato stammered, visibly shaken from the suppressed stomach grumbles. After a moment of awkward silence, he managed to say, "Please, brother, enjoy the table. The delicacies are all yours."

My pupils dilated as I gazed at the centerpiece of the table... and the magnificent ice creams in every conceivable flavor. My nostrils flared, inhaling the sweet, tantalizing aroma. The temptation was overpowering, and I could barely contain my excitement.

With a grin spreading across my face, I couldn't resist. I dove into the table with wild abandon, my senses overwhelmed by my desires. Each scoop of ice cream felt new to me - creamy vanilla, tangy raspberry swirl, rich chocolate fudge, and countless other varieties. The coldness was exhilarating, and I felt as if I was bathing in a ocean of frozen delight.

"Mmm… mmm… oh, this is amazing!" I murmured between mouthfuls, making more sounds of pure pleasure I couldn't fathom I'd use. "Ahh… so good… mmm…"

Frenzied, my mind painted a fantastic scene: I was in an enchanted land of giant ice cream mountains, sliding down rivers of melting cream, and munching on whipped cream clouds. Every bite was a burst of frozen ecstasy.

The table turned into a violent mess as I gleefully demolished the desserts, oblivious to the silent looks of those around me. My focus was solely on the endless pleasures of ice cream, lost completely in the moment. "Mmm, this is everything I dreamed of,"

Moscato's gelato was exceptional, and the drinks were just as impressive - sparkling floats crowned with whipped cream. Each bite of the sundaes, sorbets, and gelato cakes left me craving more. Once the table was suddenly cleared, I wondered aloud, "Ice cream, where did it all go?"

The people around me looked at me with tensed expressions and bodies. No one dared to answer at first. They just hoped I would calm down and move on.

But how could, when there was a red alert in my mind fixated on the missing presence of ice cream. The once-fantastical landscapes in my imagination were twisting into nightmarish scenes of vanishing delights as I if some monster was taking them away.

I looked around frantically, muttering aloud, "Where did it all go?"

"Brother Keki, please calm down," Moscato's voice wavered with fear as he tried to comfort me. "More gelato is coming from the mines, and you will have more ice cream."

I barely heard him, only catching fragments. "Ice cream from mines?.."

I stood up, eyes wide with a realization that eclipsed mere desire. "Mines," I repeated, my voice taking on a sinister edge as I scanned the room.

"Yes, brother," Moscato said, a hint of relief in his voice. "More ice cream is coming from the mines."

I swallowed hard, my imagination running wild, picturing a landscape made entirely of edible ice cream - flavors to satisfy me for eternity. That was the place to be.

"I want mines!" I bellowed, slamming my hands on the table and splintering it into fragments.

Fueled by insatiable desire, I charged through the room, tearing through anything in my path. My eyes were wild, nose twitching as I sniffed the air for any hint of ice cream. The icy walls, which should have been unbreakable, cracked as I passed through.

I stumbled into the kitchen, where I tore through cabinets and counters, devouring everything in sight. The presence of others and their desperate attempts to restrain me were a blur. Their protests and struggles were drowned out by my ravenous greed.

Still unsatisfied, I caught another scent, a faint, crude aroma wafting through the air. Like a cartoon character on a wild chase, I followed the scent with unrestrained zeal, moving with erratic, uncontrollable energy.

The source of the aroma led me to the mines. As I entered, I was greeted by a vast expanse of gelato - rows of frozen treats stacked like mountains. Without a hint of manners or restraint, I began consuming everything in sight, sparing nothing as my mouth tore through the very landscape itself.

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