Chapter 22: Potential Consequences.

Marcus and I walked into the so-called "pizza joint." The name—Mario's Cultural Delight—hinted there might be more than just pizza on the menu, but judging by Marcus's excitement, pizza was clearly the star of the show.

Ding~

"Welcome! Oh! Marcus, my friend, how are you doing?"

"John! I'm doing wonderful. I got a chance to introduce a big shot to this place."

My face twitched. Big shot? Really? I thought this guy was supposed to be cool and mysterious. Now he sounded like a loud uncle showing off at a barbecue. It was weird being used like that, but hey—if the food's good, I'll survive.

John led us to a tucked-away table, hidden from the louder groups. Mostly families, though, so I didn't really mind. If it were a bunch of obnoxious douchebags, sure—but kids being loud? That's just nature doing its thing.

Speaking of John—older guy, early 50s maybe, a bit of a belly, same height as me. Marcus was just a couple inches shorter, not enough to notice unless you stared. John had deep brown eyes, and his salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back neatly under a hairnet.

"So, Marcus, my friend. Who's this gentleman here?"

"My boss at the moment!"

"Bahahaha! And you brought him to this dump? I knew I was right to invest in you!"

"You old bastard! I do you a favor and this is the thanks I get?"

I watched them bicker like brothers. The words sounded harsh, but the vibe was all love. They were clearly close. That kind of bond didn't come from nothing.

Standing up, I faced John and offered my hand. "Eizkel Rhyse. Pleasure to meet you."

"BAHAHAHA~ A formal one, eh? John Bernard, but everyone just calls me John. And forget the formalities, my place is for the people. We toss all that hogwash out the door!"

"Seriously? Phew~" I collapsed back into the seat, relaxing for real this time. Dealing with my family's name and status in public always made things complicated—well, mostly Mom's status—so hearing that was a damn relief.

Marcus and John exchanged knowing smirks, but I ignored them and dove into the menu like a starving animal. Reading through it was a journey.

'BBQ bacon ranch pizza… Joint Special… the classics… yeah, this place screams Italian.'

I set the menu down and looked at John. "Hey, I see stuff besides pizza here. Is it actually good, or is the pizza the main act?"

John raised a brow. "Marcus didn't tell you?"

I shook my head.

"He's a pizza addict. Hopeless case, really."

"Tragic. Maybe someday he'll evolve beyond melted cheese and dough—beyond the hypnotic pull of bubbling mozzarella and that warm, yeasty aroma that clings to your soul like a desperate ex."

John and I shared a mutual nod of culinary understanding. The art of this type of cuisine went beyond just pizza. To truly appreciate his friend's food, Marcus will definitely have to go further beyond! That was the truth I knew deep down and felt kind of sorry for John to deal with this addict.

Marcus, of course, had other thoughts.

"Hey! You bastards!" he snapped, slamming his hands on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware. "Just because I love something doesn't mean I deserve abuse! And you, boss—why a desperate ex?!" His face flushed, voice cracking somewhere between outrage and betrayal, while the scent of oregano and melted cheese lingered like background laughter to his meltdown.

"Whatever, dude." I brushed him off and turned back to John with a grin. "Give me one of everything—pizza, pasta, whatever you think fits."

"My choice?" I felt some excitement come off John after giving my approval. It was so clear that he loved his craft. That made me even more eager to try his food. 

"Yeah. Let's see if Marcus earns his tip today."

"Hahaha~ You're on. I'll make sure he gets at least a dollar.

[Quest: Finish the Food]

- Accept: Suffer the Consequences; Food Tasting Level 0

- Decline: Suffer the Consequences; Please Don't Fail…

'W-What the hell?!'

[Eizkel, rest in peace. You're so done… and I have to watch! ;-;]

'This dumbass is just making it worse.' Seriously, what could possibly be so bad about eating food? It's not like the lasagna's gonna bite back... right?' 

[You better succeed. I don't want to witness the consequences.]

'You want to open my eyes to these so-called consequences?'

[Think, mortal. Think.]

I stared blankly at Marcus while Ezryn went full drama queen in my head. Once again, what's the worst that could happen from eating?

[Oh, I wish I could mute our connection… but alas.]

"Tch!"

Marcus blinked at me nervously. "Something wrong, s-sir?"

I waved him off with a sigh. Nothing to do now but wait. To pass the time, I pulled out my phone and watched the markets fluctuate. The rising and falling numbers scratched a very specific itch in my brain.

Time slipped by faster than I expected. The quiet hum of conversation, the clatter of dishes, and the mouthwatering scent of roasted garlic made the wait feel almost cozy. Before I knew it, John returned with the first wave of food.

"Here ya go!" he said, setting down a large pizza topped with chicken, pepperoni, and green bell peppers. Alongside it, he dropped off a pitcher of soda and, oddly enough, a garden salad. Which felt counterintuitive, considering what we were about to do to our bodies.

'This pizza smells insane!' The scent hit me like a warm, savory uppercut.

Once John vanished back to the kitchen, I snatched up two slices without hesitation and took a bite.

'This was so worth it.'

The texture was perfect—crispy on the bottom with a soft, welcoming bite. The cheese had melted into a velvety golden blanket, stretching just enough to make each mouthful feel indulgent without turning messy. Every element harmonized beautifully: the tangy sauce, the slight chew of the crust, the rich warmth of the toppings. It was all balanced with surprising finesse. Not greasy. Not heavy. Just right.