Chapter 100: Cooking Experience, Letty’s Business Trip, Lying To Guldrin, Guldrin Crafts A Bug.

Now that Alisa had been officially integrated into their household with a solid identity, the atmosphere at home felt less tense, though never entirely normal. Things were settling into a rhythm, at least, as much as they could in their unpredictable world filled with uncertainty.

Revy, however, was a wildcard. She had been confined to the basement, her "temporary quarters," which she took to with a grim acceptance and a glint of mischief in her eyes that no one trusted. 

What she did down there to occupy herself, Guldrin and Shiro decided they were better off not knowing. The occasional sound of laughter heard from the surveillance system or the distinct metallic clang of something being dismantled echoed up the stairs, but they didn't ask questions. Some doors were best left unopened. 

Even if the room was magically soundproofed, her chaotic behavior slips through the cracks.

Meanwhile, Guldrin chose a more productive approach to the evening. With Alisa taking charge in the kitchen, he decided to lend a hand. It had started innocently enough. Guldrin, confident in his skills, decided to take the lead. Cooking wasn't new to him; he had a decent repertoire of recipes, and his dishes, while not exceptional, were generally satisfying. But tonight, with Alisa there, he was determined to impress. After all, if anyone could raise his game, it was her with countless year of experience.

He set about his task with enthusiasm, chopping vegetables with a fervor that bordered on reckless. Carrots, onions, and bell peppers met the blade in quick succession, their vibrant colors spilling onto the cutting board. Alisa watched with a slight smirk, her arms crossed, leaning casually against the counter.

"You're attacking those vegetables like they owe you money," she quipped, stepping forward to adjust his grip on the knife. "Here, hold it like this. You're guiding the blade, swift, deliberate strokes. Control is everything."

Guldrin paused, her hand warm and steady over his, and followed her instructions. Her movements were fluid, almost effortless, as she demonstrated the proper technique. "See? It's about finesse, not brute force. And don't overcrowd the board; give yourself room to work."

He nodded, trying again with more care this time. The difference was immediate. The knife glided more smoothly, the cuts more uniform. It felt satisfying, even meditative.

"Not bad," Alisa admitted with a nod of approval, stepping back to let him continue. "Now, let's talk about flavor profiles. What are you making?"

Guldrin hesitated. "Uh… stir-fry?"

"Stir-fry?" she echoed, arching a brow. "That's a category, not a dish. What's your angle here? Sweet, spicy, savory? Are you going for a balanced palate or something bold?"

Her questions caught him off guard. He hadn't thought about it that deeply. Usually, he just threw things together and hoped for the best. "I guess… balanced?"

Alisa rolled her eyes affectionately. "Guessing isn't cooking, Guldrin. It's science and art rolled into one. You've got to know what you want to achieve. Here, taste this." She handed him a small spoonful of soy sauce mixed with honey and a dash of ginger.

He tasted it, the flavors dancing on his tongue in a way his usual cooking never managed. "Wow," he admitted, blinking. "That's really good. I am used to adding more spicy to practically anything in this family."

"That's the base, stick with me and I will expand your repertoire," she explained, reaching for a small bowl of garlic and chilies. "Now we build. Garlic for depth, chilies for heat, a splash of lime for brightness. Cooking is all about layers. You don't simply throw it together and call it food."

As she spoke, she moved through the kitchen with a practiced efficiency that made Guldrin feel like an amateur. She was cooking and orchestrating, every movement deliberate and precise. He tried to keep up, but the way she managed to chop, stir, and season all at once was mesmerizing, and a little intimidating.

"Here," she said, handing him the wok. "You're up. Medium-high heat. Don't just dump everything in at once; timing is crucial. Start with the aromatics, garlic, onions, chilies. Let them sizzle, but don't burn them.... Do Not Burn Them, or it is garbage. Then the protein. You want a good sear, so make sure the pan is hot enough before you add it. You want a golden crust, or at least as golden as you can get with the colors from the spices and condiments."

Guldrin followed her instructions, feeling the heat from the stove on his face as he tossed the ingredients in the wok. The sizzling sound was gratifying, the smell intoxicating. For the first time, he felt like he was creating something worthwhile and not just food to fill the abyss he called a stomach.

"Now the vegetables," Alisa prompted. "Start with the ones that take longer to cook. Carrots and bell peppers first, then the snap peas and broccoli. You want them to stay crisp, not soggy. Don't worry about clutter, a good chef can clean and cook at the same time. An internal clock is a must for a chef, to multitask to key."

He nodded, adding the vegetables in batches as she instructed. The vibrant colors popped against the glossy sauce, and the steam rising from the wok carried a mouthwatering aroma. He felt a surge of pride, it actually looked good.

"Don't forget to season as you go," Alisa reminded him. "Taste it. Adjust. Cooking isn't about following a recipe; it's about listening to the food, letting it tell you what it needs. But don't taste things that could make you sick if not cooked thoroughly."

Guldrin tasted the sauce, his brows furrowing as he considered. "It's good, but it's missing… something."

"Salt," Alisa said immediately. "But not normal salt. Try a splash of fish sauce. It'll give it that umami kick you're looking for. Don't follow the norm, every great creation starts with someone trying new things. Nothing works out perfectly the first time."

He added a small amount of fish sauce, and the transformation was immediate. The flavors deepened, rounding out in a way that was almost magical. "That's amazing," he said, his voice full of genuine awe.

"Told you," Alisa said with a satisfied smirk. "Now, plating. Presentation matters. A good dish should look as good as it tastes. Use contrasting colors, balance the portions, and don't just pile it all on the plate like a cafeteria tray. This brings me back to when I taught Rindo, and we had to give you her failures for disposal. You would eat anything, and it made her day, even if it was not even close to passable."

She handed him a clean white plate and showed him how to arrange the stir-fry in a way that was both aesthetically pleasing and practical. A small garnish of fresh cilantro and a sprinkle of sesame seeds completed the dish, and Guldrin couldn't help but smile at the result. It looked like something out of a restaurant.

"I personally dislike and hold non-edible garnishes in contempt… Don't use them, however, I think you've got a knack for this," Alisa admitted, giving him a playful nudge. "With a little practice, you might even be able to keep up with me."

"High praise," Guldrin said with a grin, his earlier nervousness melting away. He felt a genuine sense of accomplishment, a rare feeling in his otherwise chaotic life. "Thanks for the lesson. I actually feel like I learned something. Can we continue to do this?"

After she nodded, Guldrin smiled and stared at the system interface, 

"Cooking: 0% → 4%"

'Nice, this is the first time I have increased my cooking skill percentage, and like my Innovator class, my brain is being filled with tons of new information… It is kinda giving me a headache, but a good one?' 

The shop room, which had unofficially earned the title of their living-slash-gaming room, buzzed with its usual blend of chaotic energy and quiet determination. 

Sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, casting streaks of warmth across the organized mess that filled the space. It was a unique room, crammed with an assortment of items that reflected the eclectic personalities of its inhabitants. Tools, spare parts, and half-finished gadgets shared space with beanbags, monitors, and an almost comical number of energy drink cans scattered about.

Shiro had claimed her usual corner, her laptop balanced on a compact desk that somehow managed to look both cluttered and meticulously arranged. Her slender fingers danced over the keyboard, her sharp eyes locked onto the screen with an intensity that rivaled a laser. 

The MMORPG, her brainchild, had recently exploded in popularity, rocketing past all competitors to become the most-played game on the planet.

Her feelings about this newfound fame were as complex as the code she had written for the game. 

There was pride, of course. 

How could there not be? 

The game was hers, a labor of love born from countless sleepless nights and an unyielding passion for creating something that felt alive. Only Guldrin and Skye had ever been privy to the depths of her vision and had lent their hands to bring it to fruition. 

She had poured her soul into every pixel, every line of dialogue, and every mechanic. Seeing players immerse themselves in her world, forming communities and forging legends, gave her a thrill like nothing else.

But there was also annoyance, an almost biting frustration that gnawed at her peace. 

The game's success had drawn attention from places she didn't want it. 

Her inbox overflowed with emails, ranging from overzealous fan letters to thinly veiled threats. Corporations eager to capitalize on her creation had begun to circle like vultures, each offer more exorbitant than the last, each promise laced with hidden agendas. 

They wanted to buy her out, slap their logos on her world, and milk it for profit until the magic was gone.

Shiro wouldn't even entertain the idea. 

The thought of handing over her creation to faceless suits made her skin crawl. Glimmering Isles was hers, it was her world, alive and evolving, her creativity and resilience put into code; only limited by the world's technology. 

She had too many plans, too many stories left to tell, to let it be reduced to a soulless cash cow. It was a living, breathing ecosystem, with a thriving in-game economy so intricately designed that it had spilled into real-world trading markets. Entire communities had sprung up around it.

"Another one?" Guldrin asked, looking over her shoulder as he came to get her for dinner. He was tinkering with a small mechanical gadget, his hands moving with a practiced ease unconsciously. The faint hum of machinery mixed with the occasional click of his tools.

"Another dozen," Shiro muttered, her tone somewhere between irritation and amusement. She didn't even glance away from her screen as she continued typing. "One guy offered me a penthouse in New York. Another said he'd throw in a yacht. A yacht, Guldrin. Because clearly, I'm the kind of person who needs a floating mansion. Gates even said he would give me a share of Microsoft if I sold it to him. Bleh" She stuck out her tongue like it tasted bad.

"Maybe you could turn it into an in-game event," he joked, smirking. "The Great Yacht Raid. Players band together to sink the ship of corporate greed."

Shiro snorted, finally tearing her eyes away from the screen to throw him a look. "Tempting. But then I'd have to code water physics, and honestly, I don't hate myself that much… Yet, let the technology level of this world increase a bit, and then I might give it a go. Imagine, pirates, clans living on the seas, of the salt, I can practically taste it. Hehe, I still get hate mail about full loot PVP in all locations."

Her deadpan delivery drew a laugh from Guldrin, who set his gadget down and stretched. 

"You know they're not going to stop, right?" he said, leaning back in his chair. "Not until you do something that makes them stop."

Shiro sighed, her expression softening as she leaned back in her chair. "I know. I'm working on it. I've got a couple of ideas to make the game even more self-sufficient. The kind of stuff that makes them realize they can't replicate it without me. Or, if we can figure out how to make real AI, I could make the world real… a place people could actually never fully replicate, just like you couldn't replicate Earth. "

"That's the spirit," Guldrin said with a grin. "Make them regret ever thinking they could outsmart you."

She smirked at his encouragement but didn't respond, her mind already spinning with possibilities. Her focus was unshakable, her resolve like steel. She was protecting a part of herself, a piece of her soul that she had poured into every corner of Glimmering Isles.

"Come on, let's go get ready for dinner, Alisa and I came up with some pretty good food, nothing too fancy, but I feel I learned quite a bit."

Nodding, she closed her laptop after sending a few heavily worded messages and climbed onto his back, "Mush, my steed, carry your princess to her feast."

Chuckling, Guldrin allowed her Chunni and adorable antics to warm his heart as he carried her to the counter, where they waited for Letty, "Onward my steed, hiya!"

Letty, meanwhile, was in her own zone. After a long shower and a change into comfortable clothes, she spent a good twenty minutes playing with Emily, their feline companion, who had an uncanny knack for making even Letty's hardened demeanor soften. 

When the smell of dinner wafted through the shop, Letty followed it, casually strolling into the dining room with Emily perched on her shoulder like a queen surveying her domain.

Like she does.

Dinner had a strange sense of urgency that evening. The kitchen, usually filled with the comforting scent of warm food and the hum of conversation, felt unusually tense as Mia arrived, her arms weighed down with a collection of shopping bags. 

There was something off about her, something that didn't quite fit with the typical upbeat energy she carried with her. Her expression, while still cheerful, seemed forced, and her movements were slightly too quick, almost as though she was trying to hide something, or perhaps, distract from something.

Guldrin and Shiro exchanged a look, both of them sensing the subtle shift in the air. They knew Mia well enough to recognize when she wasn't being entirely herself. 

Without hesitation, they both moved forward to help her with the bags, but to their surprise, Mia waved them off with a quick, practiced smile.

"Thanks, but I've got it," she said, her voice a little too bright, her tone almost sharp enough to be mistaken for irritation. It didn't quite match the warmth she usually radiated, and something in the way she brushed past them made them pause.

Letty, however, was already stepping in to help. The two of them shared a silent exchange as Mia made her way past the kitchen, barely sparing a glance at either of them. 

Letty was a lot more intuitive than most people gave her credit for, and she seemed to understand exactly what was happening; or they planned this from the beginning? 

Without question, she gathered the bags and followed Mia toward the back of the house, disappearing down the hall into Letty's room.

Guldrin and Shiro stood there for a moment, the room suddenly too quiet for comfort. There was an odd sense of anticipation hanging in the air, thick and unspoken. Guldrin, always a little more perceptive than he let on, leaned slightly toward Shiro, his gaze flicking to the doorway where the two women had vanished. 

The familiar smells of leather, rubber, and gunpowder, distinct and unmistakable, began to weave their way into the kitchen. The scents seemed to spill out from the room like some sort of secret, each waft carrying with it an implication that neither of them could quite shake off.

"Something's not right," Guldrin muttered, his voice low, though it was more to himself than to Shiro.

Shiro didn't respond right away. Instead, she tilted her head thoughtfully, her sharp eyes narrowing as she registered the strange combination of scents filling the air. They both knew that those weren't the typical smells associated with a casual shopping trip. Leather, rubber, and gunpowder were the kinds of things you found at places like tactical supply stores, or even armories.

"I don't know, Shiro, something ain't right." Guldrin continued, his tone growing more suspicious. "That's not a casual shopping spree."

Shiro raised an eyebrow. "What do you think they're up to?" Her voice was casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

Guldrin shrugged, though his mind was already running at full speed. "Whatever it is, I don't think we're supposed to know about it. Not yet, anyway."

Before they could exchange more words, Letty appeared back in the dining room. Her movements were measured and calm, as though nothing unusual had happened, but both of them couldn't help but notice the way she held herself, there was something defensive in the set of her jaw, something that didn't quite belong in the otherwise relaxed atmosphere of their dinner table.

She slid into her seat with a certain grace, her fork immediately finding its way to her plate, and in a single, casual motion, she began eating. The air was thick with unasked questions, but Letty wasn't the type to offer answers unless she chose to.

"So, what's all that gear for?" Guldrin asked lightly, unable to let it go. His curiosity was evident, though his voice carried a casual tone that betrayed none of the wariness creeping up inside him. "I'm guessing it's not a simple shopping spree."

Letty didn't flinch, didn't hesitate for a second. She was quick with her response, her voice calm and unapologetic. "Mia picked up some gear for my business trip," she said with a shrug, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

She punctuated the sentence with a swift bite of food, the action almost mechanical in its simplicity.

Guldrin's brow furrowed. "Business trip?" he repeated, his voice edged with skepticism. "What kind of business trip requires... whatever that was?"

Letty didn't flinch under his questioning. In fact, she almost seemed to relish it. "The kind you don't need to worry about," she replied smoothly, as though shutting the door on the subject entirely. 

Her tone was firm and final, and the slight smirk playing at the corners of her lips only added to the mystery. She didn't offer any further details, leaving the question hanging in the air like an unresolved mystery.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Guldrin processed her words. His eyes flicked to Shiro, who had narrowed her gaze slightly, her curiosity piqued but her patience clearly at its limit. 

She didn't press, though; instead, she returned to her food, her hands picking at her plate with a practiced disinterest. But Guldrin could see the wheels turning in her mind, too, the way she seemed to be running through possibilities in her head.

Guldrin, however, wasn't as quick to let things go. The more he thought about it, the more the situation didn't sit right with him. 

There was too much being left unsaid, too many unanswered questions lingering in the air. Letty's evasiveness didn't help matters. He wasn't used to being kept in the dark, especially by people he considered family.

'What's really going on? He thought to himself, his mind racing through possibilities. Is it something to do with Brian? Is it dangerous?'

He barely noticed the way his hands tightened around his fork, his knuckles turning white. The thought of Brian made his stomach churn, but that wasn't what was gnawing at him right now. The more he thought about Letty's response, the more unsettled he became. There was something she wasn't telling him, and the instinct to find out what it was gnawed at him like a persistent itch.

His gaze flicked back to Letty, who was casually sipping her drink, completely unfazed by the quiet tension around the table.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was going on, something more dangerous than they were willing to admit. 

His mind whirred through every possible scenario, trying to find the piece of the puzzle that fit into the strange picture unfolding before him.

For a moment, the noise of the world seemed to fade into the background as Guldrin locked eyes with Letty, his expression unreadable. He was sure she could sense the question in his stare, the unspoken challenge, but she didn't look away. 

Instead, her eyes flicked to his with a mixture of amusement and a hint of something else, something like a warning, or worry?

"Eat your dinner, Guldrin," she said, her voice softer now, though there was still that faint edge of finality in it.

Guldrin's mind was still spinning, but he knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of her tonight. Not unless she wanted to tell him. And if there was one thing he knew about Letty, it was that she wasn't going to open up unless it was absolutely necessary.

The rest of the meal proceeded with the usual mix of conversation, casual teasing, and the rhythmic clink of silverware against porcelain. 

But for Guldrin, the mystery of Mia's shopping trip, and Letty's strange behavior, lingered like a shadow. 

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was happening behind the scenes, something that would soon pull them all into its orbit. It reminded him of his instincts for Brian.

As the last of the plates were cleared away, the lingering taste of dinner seemed to settle in his mouth, but the weight of his thoughts remained. Whatever was going on, he was determined to find out. Because if there was one thing Guldrin hated more than being kept in the dark, it was feeling like he was part of a plan that was bigger than him, especially when he didn't know the rules.

And when it came to Letty, Mia, and their mysterious "business trip," Guldrin had the feeling he was only scratching the surface.

Later that night, after the dishes were done and the house had settled into its usual evening quiet, Guldrin retreated to his workshop. His curiosity had festered into a full-blown itch, and worry, and he wasn't one to ignore such feelings. With Emily lounging on a nearby stool, watching him with half-lidded eyes, he got to work.

Pulling out a small collection of tools and components, Guldrin began crafting. The idea had come to him during dinner: if Letty and Mia weren't going to tell him what they were up to, he'd find out another way. He wasn't exactly proud of the thought, but his instincts told him this wasn't just a mundane business trip. 

His instincts told him not to trust Brian, but he messed up and allowed himself to be swayed before, this time, he needed answers, and if they weren't willing to provide them, he'd have to improvise.

The "bug" he designed wasn't just any run-of-the-mill tracking device. No, this was a Guldrin original, tiny, undetectable, and multifunctional. Not only could it track Letty's movements, but it also had an audio component and a short-range EMP burst capability, just in case.

Why?

Because he couldn't risk his mother's safety, even if she doesn't want to explain the situation.

As he soldered wires and calibrated the device, a small part of him felt a pang of guilt. 

But the larger part, the one driven by curiosity and concern, justified his actions. Letty had always been fiercely independent, but this felt different, like she was deliberately keeping something from him.

He needed to understand.

By the time he finished, the bug was no larger than a coin, its sleek black casing making it nearly invisible. Satisfied with his work, Guldrin leaned back in his chair and sighed. Emily, who had been watching him intently, let out a soft meow as if to scold him.

"I know, I know," Guldrin muttered, scratching behind her ears. "But it's not like she's going to tell me the truth. This is just...insurance."

The next challenge was slipping the device into Letty's gear without her noticing. That would require precision, timing, and a bit of luck. But Guldrin was nothing if not resourceful. 

As he cleaned up his workspace, his mind was already racing with ideas for how to execute his plan.

'Maybe a necklace? A pendant? She wouldn't refuse to wear it, right? No, I will make two, a pendant, and a replacement zipper for her leather jacket… Mom doesn't go anywhere without her jacket.'

Upstairs, Letty and Mia were deep in conversation, their voices too low for Guldrin to make out. Whatever they were planning, it was big enough to keep them on edge. And while they thought they were keeping their secrets safe, they hadn't accounted for Guldrin's determination.

As the night wore on, the house fell into a tentative calm. Revy's occasional laughter from the basement, Shiro's steady typing, and Emily's soft purring created a strange but familiar symphony. But for Guldrin, the real challenge was only just beginning, as he finally drudged up the courage to enter the madness that is Revy's domain.

Yes, she has claimed the workshop area… Even going as far as to hang a sign that says, 'if you don't have food or booze, F*ck off.'

'Here goes nothing…'

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)