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Part 2
The gourmet's mansion was on a hill with a view over the lush forest.
Since it had been the residence of the feudal lord long ago, the building was surprisingly large. The dining hall of the feast was lined with tables that were adorned with beautiful candlesticks and sterling cutlery.
Everywhere one looked, one could see wealthy people, landlords and other people conversing with each other— without exception about tonight's dinner.
"Why are there so many people? It's unbearable," Dalian complained quietly while hiding herself in the shadow of a post.
While adjusting his brand-new necktie, Huey gave a laid-back answer, "Mr. Graham has become so wealthy because he built up a fortune in his young years by doing forward trading with corn. Even now when he has retired, he arranges a dinner party with lots of guests every month. And because of the very special cooking that is served at those, you can apparently pride yourself on getting invited."
"...what a wretched bunch," she cursed with quite a grumpy expression, which probably originated from her aversion of being in crowds.
Another reason for her bad mood was the fact that she was the target of countless curious gazes; her exotic black dress stood out even among all the other guests, dressed up as they were.
Despite her dismissive attitude, there were still quite a lot who approached her out of curiosity.
"Good evening, young lady. Is this your first visit?"
Addressed by a young noble-looking man, she tensed and tried ignoring him.
The man, however, did not even mind and continued, "I've attended several times since last year. The cooking here is even better than the rumours say! It stands to reason that Mr. Graham's company is said to have flourished because of his dinner parties. I'm sure you'll love it. The recipes he has worked out are of course splendid, but so too are the skills of the cooks that carry them out."
"...Cooks?" Huey asked subduedly.
The man who was being ignored by Dalian turned relievedly towards Huey.
"Yes, exactly. Did you know? Apparently, the chef is able to cook animals alive without letting them feel any pain. I heard that birds and predators kept sleeping comfortably even when their head rolled, or that fish continued to swim in the tank even when they were reduced to head and bones—"
"...why would he do such obscure things?" Huey asked, raising an eyebrow.
The noble-looking man extended his arms exaggeratedly and shook his head.
"That's again a story beyond belief: he seems to be seeking for the perfect taste by doing so. Adrenalin... was it, I think. Animals emit adrenalin when they die in pain, which causes the meat to get chewy and the flavour to weaken. Of course, that's a difference so subtle we common people cannot perceive it, though."
"You mean... he is doing it just to prevent that effect...?"
"Exactly. It's splendid how much care he puts into his dishes, don't you agree? I heard he polished his knife technique and even learned the oriental 'moxibustion' and the usage of medicines, just to prevent the animals from suffering. Mind you, he has been able to work for several years for Mr. Graham."
"...quite hard to believe," Huey voiced his thoughts dryly.
The man nodded several times.
"Surely! But I think you'll believe it as soon as you've tasted the cooking."
After boasting about the cooking as if he had made it, the man parted with them in high spirits.
When he went out of their view, Dalian relaxed again.
"...what do you think about it, Dalian?"
So far he had preserved a sociable smile, but now Huey's mien turned serious at once.
"It's absurd. No common man could accomplish something like that," Dalian declared coldly.
Huey maintained a serious face.
"But what if it's the truth?"
The black-dressed girl gazed at the flame dancing on a candlestick and muttered in an even voice, "That would mean... the power of a non-human being is involved."
"I see," Huey shrugged casually.
He took a pocket-watch out of his coat and bracing himself up, said briefly:
"It's time. Let's go."
Graham Atkinson's study was to be found at a silent place, somewhat apart from the dinner party.
Outside the window one could see the huge forest and the wheat fields on the back side of the mansion. Both sides of the room were lined with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling and were packed with rare books.
There were some comfortable-looking seats in the centre, one of which was already occupied by a man.
He was probably older than fifty.
While he was a little short, his body was well-built— far from the chubbiness one would expect from a rumoured gourmet. His appearance resembled much more a soldier in employment, rather than a retired aristocrat.
"—I'm impressed."
The first action Huey took after being led to this library was not greeting Mr. Graham, but sighing in admiration at the bookshelves alongside the walls. Even Dalian could not help rounding her eyes.
"'De re coquinaria' by the gourmand Acipius of the old Rome. 'Le Viandier' by Charles VI's highly valued chef Taillevent. 'The Physiology of Taste' by Brillat-Savarin—the greatest gourmet of modern history. And the 'Qí mín yào shù' of the Ancient China. There are not only recipes, but also books about natural history and physics... you could probably count the number of other gourmet libraries of this level on one hand."
"Heh...," the owner of the study gazed at Huey with searching eyes and gave a laugh. "I see. As expected from the grandchild of Viscount Wesley Disward. You seem to have an eye for books."
"...Are you acquainted with my grandfather?" Huey gave the gourmet a surprised glance.
Graham nodded deeply with a hard to judge expression. He signalled Huey and Dalian to take a seat and ordered the butler to prepare some tea for them.
"Anyone who is a little familiar with what happens behind the scenes in this country knows about that bibliomaniac! And also about the library he owns, of course."
"What library?" Huey asked back with a straight face.
"Playing dumb won't help you, Sir Disward. The best proof is the girl you've taken with you, 'the Black Biblioprincess'. You have inherited it from the Viscount, haven't you? The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"
"...I wonder what you mean?" Huey smiled in a ironic manner and inclined his head.
Dalian was still wordlessly tugging at his sleeves with downcast eyes. Her impassive countenance seemed like a beautiful porcelain doll.
"Heh," Graham sneered amusedly. "Books are splendid. You have to use your head to read them, and reading makes you hungry. Did you know that the weight of a human brain makes about 2% of the whole body, but uses up 18% of the daily required calories? Now, the hungrier you are, the more delicious dishes you can eat."
"You read books... for the sake of eating?" Huey asked in a jesting tone.
But his dialogue partner nodded without hesitation and added, "Surely... and the same applies to my muscles. If you increase your basal metabolism by training your muscles, the amount of needed food will grow, too. Gourmet food is the greatest pleasure under the sun. Thus, I spare neither trouble nor expense."
"Hah..."
With an awkward expression, Huey looked around in the study. There weren't just lots of books, but also many tools to exercise.
And instead of a desk, there was a personal dining table.
The gourmet's mansion was on a hill with a view over the lush forest.
Since it had been the residence of the feudal lord long ago, the building was surprisingly large. The dining hall of the feast was lined with tables that were adorned with beautiful candlesticks and sterling cutlery.
Everywhere one looked, one could see wealthy people, landlords and other people conversing with each other— without exception about tonight's dinner.
"Why are there so many people? It's unbearable," Dalian complained quietly while hiding herself in the shadow of a post.
While adjusting his brand-new necktie, Huey gave a laid-back answer, "Mr. Graham has become so wealthy because he built up a fortune in his young years by doing forward trading with corn. Even now when he has retired, he arranges a dinner party with lots of guests every month. And because of the very special cooking that is served at those, you can apparently pride yourself on getting invited."
"...what a wretched bunch," she cursed with quite a grumpy expression, which probably originated from her aversion of being in crowds.
Another reason for her bad mood was the fact that she was the target of countless curious gazes; her exotic black dress stood out even among all the other guests, dressed up as they were.
Despite her dismissive attitude, there were still quite a lot who approached her out of curiosity.
"Good evening, young lady. Is this your first visit?"
Addressed by a young noble-looking man, she tensed and tried ignoring him.
The man, however, did not even mind and continued, "I've attended several times since last year. The cooking here is even better than the rumours say! It stands to reason that Mr. Graham's company is said to have flourished because of his dinner parties. I'm sure you'll love it. The recipes he has worked out are of course splendid, but so too are the skills of the cooks that carry them out."
"...Cooks?" Huey asked subduedly.
The man who was being ignored by Dalian turned relievedly towards Huey.
"Yes, exactly. Did you know? Apparently, the chef is able to cook animals alive without letting them feel any pain. I heard that birds and predators kept sleeping comfortably even when their head rolled, or that fish continued to swim in the tank even when they were reduced to head and bones—"
"...why would he do such obscure things?" Huey asked, raising an eyebrow.
The noble-looking man extended his arms exaggeratedly and shook his head.
"That's again a story beyond belief: he seems to be seeking for the perfect taste by doing so. Adrenalin... was it, I think. Animals emit adrenalin when they die in pain, which causes the meat to get chewy and the flavour to weaken. Of course, that's a difference so subtle we common people cannot perceive it, though."
"You mean... he is doing it just to prevent that effect...?"
"Exactly. It's splendid how much care he puts into his dishes, don't you agree? I heard he polished his knife technique and even learned the oriental 'moxibustion' and the usage of medicines, just to prevent the animals from suffering. Mind you, he has been able to work for several years for Mr. Graham."
"...quite hard to believe," Huey voiced his thoughts dryly.
The man nodded several times.
"Surely! But I think you'll believe it as soon as you've tasted the cooking."
After boasting about the cooking as if he had made it, the man parted with them in high spirits.
When he went out of their view, Dalian relaxed again.
"...what do you think about it, Dalian?"
So far he had preserved a sociable smile, but now Huey's mien turned serious at once.
"It's absurd. No common man could accomplish something like that," Dalian declared coldly.
Huey maintained a serious face.
"But what if it's the truth?"
The black-dressed girl gazed at the flame dancing on a candlestick and muttered in an even voice, "That would mean... the power of a non-human being is involved."
"I see," Huey shrugged casually.
He took a pocket-watch out of his coat and bracing himself up, said briefly:
"It's time. Let's go."
Graham Atkinson's study was to be found at a silent place, somewhat apart from the dinner party.
Outside the window one could see the huge forest and the wheat fields on the back side of the mansion. Both sides of the room were lined with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling and were packed with rare books.
There were some comfortable-looking seats in the centre, one of which was already occupied by a man.
He was probably older than fifty.
While he was a little short, his body was well-built— far from the chubbiness one would expect from a rumoured gourmet. His appearance resembled much more a soldier in employment, rather than a retired aristocrat.
"—I'm impressed."
The first action Huey took after being led to this library was not greeting Mr. Graham, but sighing in admiration at the bookshelves alongside the walls. Even Dalian could not help rounding her eyes.
"'De re coquinaria' by the gourmand Acipius of the old Rome. 'Le Viandier' by Charles VI's highly valued chef Taillevent. 'The Physiology of Taste' by Brillat-Savarin—the greatest gourmet of modern history. And the 'Qí mín yào shù' of the Ancient China. There are not only recipes, but also books about natural history and physics... you could probably count the number of other gourmet libraries of this level on one hand."
"Heh...," the owner of the study gazed at Huey with searching eyes and gave a laugh. "I see. As expected from the grandchild of Viscount Wesley Disward. You seem to have an eye for books."
"...Are you acquainted with my grandfather?" Huey gave the gourmet a surprised glance.
Graham nodded deeply with a hard to judge expression. He signalled Huey and Dalian to take a seat and ordered the butler to prepare some tea for them.
"Anyone who is a little familiar with what happens behind the scenes in this country knows about that bibliomaniac! And also about the library he owns, of course."
"What library?" Huey asked back with a straight face.
"Playing dumb won't help you, Sir Disward. The best proof is the girl you've taken with you, 'the Black Biblioprincess'. You have inherited it from the Viscount, haven't you? The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"
"...I wonder what you mean?" Huey smiled in a ironic manner and inclined his head.
Dalian was still wordlessly tugging at his sleeves with downcast eyes. Her impassive countenance seemed like a beautiful porcelain doll.
"Heh," Graham sneered amusedly. "Books are splendid. You have to use your head to read them, and reading makes you hungry. Did you know that the weight of a human brain makes about 2% of the whole body, but uses up 18% of the daily required calories? Now, the hungrier you are, the more delicious dishes you can eat."
"You read books... for the sake of eating?" Huey asked in a jesting tone.
But his dialogue partner nodded without hesitation and added, "Surely... and the same applies to my muscles. If you increase your basal metabolism by training your muscles, the amount of needed food will grow, too. Gourmet food is the greatest pleasure under the sun. Thus, I spare neither trouble nor expense."
"Hah..."
With an awkward expression, Huey looked around in the study. There weren't just lots of books, but also many tools to exercise.
And instead of a desk, there was a personal dining table.
The wine cup and plates were all made of expensive porcelain and wouldn't have been out of place in an art gallery. In a sense, this study was a splendid, extravagant dining room.
"Won't you take part in the dinner party?" Huey asked after a short pause.
Although the dinner party should have begun by now, Graham didn't seem to intend to go.
"Don't make me laugh," the gourmet ranted. "Do you ask me to dine together with a bunch that won't stop talking about silly rumours, their business and other nonsense during that holy time? Me? Such a dinner party is of no worth! I only organize those because I have no other choice for business. You may call it fawning on incompetent trustees."
"That is... unexpected," Huey muttered to himself.
"Why would you think so?"
"No, it's just that everyone was praising your dinner parties so highly, so I was sure you made every effort..."
"Why, I do make every effort! Doesn't that go without saying? Or did you think I would let my cooks slack off just because my guests are common people?" the gourmet asked deprecatingly. Huey silently shook his head.
Graham laughed deeply. "Well, but to tell the truth... while they are not slacking off, they don't give their best either. It's necessary to reduce the grade of perfection, so even those commoners can comprehend the taste. Do you know why?"
"No... why is that?"
"In short, for savouring the best cooking, the body of the one eating has to be at least of the same quality. Everyone knows that the meat of a well-built and healthy animal tastes good. But what about the person eating it? Do you think someone who is fat, or whose inner organs are corroded by tobacco and wine, could ever appreciate the best cooking?" Graham sighed as if to ridicule the guests gathered at the dinner party. "I have been working on myself for a long time, caring about my health, getting myself into shape, and keeping the balance of never eating too much, but neither getting too hungry. I did all this in order to savour the best cooking. I'm not like those would-be gourmets!"
While saying so, he paraded his muscles proudly.
"I think I can understand what you mean," said Huey calmly, continuing with a strained smile, "We don't seem to have the capabilities to appreciate the cooking you're talking of, either. I am a person that neglects to live healthily and I'm quite dense to tastes... Therefore, may we get down to business?"
"...Business, huh?"
"Yes. Why did you not only invite us to your dinner party, but also to had us come to your study, Mr. Graham Atkinson, even though we have no connection to your business whatsoever?" Huey gave him a cold glance.
Graham nodded pleasedly, "Right... I am not interested in the bunch that's here only to taste my cuisine. But you are different, Sir Disward. And so are you, Black Biblioprincess... please, grant my wish!"
"Your wish?" Huey asked suspiciously.
Graham bowed his head slowly.
"I'm talking about the Phantom Book."
A dull light flashed in his eyes. Dalian tightened her grip on Huey's sleeves, visibly tensed.
"I would merely like you to lend me just one phantom book—one among the thousands you own. The phantom book, which is said to contain forbidden cookery by the chef of Valhalla, the pagan god Andhrímnir," he said slowly, "It is called 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'. It was lost long ago and should not exist anymore. But you should know about its whereabouts. You who inherited the phantom library crowned by the name of the demon that has might over knowledge and books. The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"
"...Why?" Huey repeated his question.
Graham frowned discontentedly.
"You are a researcher of gourmet food and recognized by everyone. You have collected such a giant number of cookery books and you even have one of the best cooks in the country as your employee. What more could you long for?"
"I long to savour the best cooking—no more, no less," Graham answered without hesitation. "For gourmet food is the greatest pleasure on earth. It's the ultimate desire and deeply rooted in the human nature itself. Moreover, it and nothing else was the driving force that led to the progress of our civilization. Or as Brillat-Savarin once said: 'The discovery of a new dish confers more happiness on humanity than the discovery of a new star'. And I have yet to find it! That true bliss!"
"And that is why you want to borrow the knowledge of the demons?"
Huey gazed at him with pity in his eyes.
Graham nodded, "I sacrificed my own lifetime in order to seek the best cooking. Did you know that according to some statistics, true gourmet food does not harm the health, but rather lengthens life...? But still, I've not yet reached it. I don't have much time left. Ten, twenty years at most. I want to savour the ultimate gourmet food before my time has come—even if it means to borrow the power of a book whose mere existence is forbidden."
Huey patiently heard Graham out, but in his eyes one could clearly discover bewilderment. He shook his head, unable to understand Graham.
"...how can this be, Dalian?" he whispered to the black-clothed girl, who remained silent.
"What are you hesitating for, Sir Disward?" Irritation was mixed in Graham's voice. "Do you want money? There is no reason to hesitate in that case. Just write down the sum you have in mind on a cheque."
"...you're mistaken, Mr. Atkinson. We don't demand anything in exchange for the books," Huey sighed, slightly annoyed. "But sadly we're not able to hand out a phantom book to you—even if we, for argument's sake, were the owners of that library."
"Why?" Graham asked in a hoarse voice, becoming rattled for the first time.
"Because that book—The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking—has already been lent to somebody. Thirteen years ago, that is."
"What did you just say...?" Graham muttered in complete bafflement.
Still raising an eyebrow, Huey continued, "In the diary of grandpa... no, of my grandfather, it was written that the 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' was handed out to someone today 13 years ago on a whim. We were sure you were the holder of the book when we travelled here. Since after all, it was shortly after that day that you got widely famous as a gourmet—"
"13 years ago...? Don't tell me that...!" He groaned deeply and sank down in his seat. Then, after a long time of silence, he muttered in a mournful voice:
"It's my head cook..."
"Eh?"
"Won't you take part in the dinner party?" Huey asked after a short pause.
Although the dinner party should have begun by now, Graham didn't seem to intend to go.
"Don't make me laugh," the gourmet ranted. "Do you ask me to dine together with a bunch that won't stop talking about silly rumours, their business and other nonsense during that holy time? Me? Such a dinner party is of no worth! I only organize those because I have no other choice for business. You may call it fawning on incompetent trustees."
"That is... unexpected," Huey muttered to himself.
"Why would you think so?"
"No, it's just that everyone was praising your dinner parties so highly, so I was sure you made every effort..."
"Why, I do make every effort! Doesn't that go without saying? Or did you think I would let my cooks slack off just because my guests are common people?" the gourmet asked deprecatingly. Huey silently shook his head.
Graham laughed deeply. "Well, but to tell the truth... while they are not slacking off, they don't give their best either. It's necessary to reduce the grade of perfection, so even those commoners can comprehend the taste. Do you know why?"
"No... why is that?"
"In short, for savouring the best cooking, the body of the one eating has to be at least of the same quality. Everyone knows that the meat of a well-built and healthy animal tastes good. But what about the person eating it? Do you think someone who is fat, or whose inner organs are corroded by tobacco and wine, could ever appreciate the best cooking?" Graham sighed as if to ridicule the guests gathered at the dinner party. "I have been working on myself for a long time, caring about my health, getting myself into shape, and keeping the balance of never eating too much, but neither getting too hungry. I did all this in order to savour the best cooking. I'm not like those would-be gourmets!"
While saying so, he paraded his muscles proudly.
"I think I can understand what you mean," said Huey calmly, continuing with a strained smile, "We don't seem to have the capabilities to appreciate the cooking you're talking of, either. I am a person that neglects to live healthily and I'm quite dense to tastes... Therefore, may we get down to business?"
"...Business, huh?"
"Yes. Why did you not only invite us to your dinner party, but also to had us come to your study, Mr. Graham Atkinson, even though we have no connection to your business whatsoever?" Huey gave him a cold glance.
Graham nodded pleasedly, "Right... I am not interested in the bunch that's here only to taste my cuisine. But you are different, Sir Disward. And so are you, Black Biblioprincess... please, grant my wish!"
"Your wish?" Huey asked suspiciously.
Graham bowed his head slowly.
"I'm talking about the Phantom Book."
A dull light flashed in his eyes. Dalian tightened her grip on Huey's sleeves, visibly tensed.
"I would merely like you to lend me just one phantom book—one among the thousands you own. The phantom book, which is said to contain forbidden cookery by the chef of Valhalla, the pagan god Andhrímnir," he said slowly, "It is called 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'. It was lost long ago and should not exist anymore. But you should know about its whereabouts. You who inherited the phantom library crowned by the name of the demon that has might over knowledge and books. The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"
"...Why?" Huey repeated his question.
Graham frowned discontentedly.
"You are a researcher of gourmet food and recognized by everyone. You have collected such a giant number of cookery books and you even have one of the best cooks in the country as your employee. What more could you long for?"
"I long to savour the best cooking—no more, no less," Graham answered without hesitation. "For gourmet food is the greatest pleasure on earth. It's the ultimate desire and deeply rooted in the human nature itself. Moreover, it and nothing else was the driving force that led to the progress of our civilization. Or as Brillat-Savarin once said: 'The discovery of a new dish confers more happiness on humanity than the discovery of a new star'. And I have yet to find it! That true bliss!"
"And that is why you want to borrow the knowledge of the demons?"
Huey gazed at him with pity in his eyes.
Graham nodded, "I sacrificed my own lifetime in order to seek the best cooking. Did you know that according to some statistics, true gourmet food does not harm the health, but rather lengthens life...? But still, I've not yet reached it. I don't have much time left. Ten, twenty years at most. I want to savour the ultimate gourmet food before my time has come—even if it means to borrow the power of a book whose mere existence is forbidden."
Huey patiently heard Graham out, but in his eyes one could clearly discover bewilderment. He shook his head, unable to understand Graham.
"...how can this be, Dalian?" he whispered to the black-clothed girl, who remained silent.
"What are you hesitating for, Sir Disward?" Irritation was mixed in Graham's voice. "Do you want money? There is no reason to hesitate in that case. Just write down the sum you have in mind on a cheque."
"...you're mistaken, Mr. Atkinson. We don't demand anything in exchange for the books," Huey sighed, slightly annoyed. "But sadly we're not able to hand out a phantom book to you—even if we, for argument's sake, were the owners of that library."
"Why?" Graham asked in a hoarse voice, becoming rattled for the first time.
"Because that book—The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking—has already been lent to somebody. Thirteen years ago, that is."
"What did you just say...?" Graham muttered in complete bafflement.
Still raising an eyebrow, Huey continued, "In the diary of grandpa... no, of my grandfather, it was written that the 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' was handed out to someone today 13 years ago on a whim. We were sure you were the holder of the book when we travelled here. Since after all, it was shortly after that day that you got widely famous as a gourmet—"
"13 years ago...? Don't tell me that...!" He groaned deeply and sank down in his seat. Then, after a long time of silence, he muttered in a mournful voice:
"It's my head cook..."
"Eh?"
"The chef has got the phantom book. Apparently, everyone thinks that I have created all the recipes, and that I only have the servants cook them for me, but that's not true. The one thinking them out and cooking them is the chef and no one else. It was right about 13 years ago when I employed the current head cook... and still... what a... ooh...!" he mumbled and held his head.
His imposing body seemed a lot smaller than before.
"What a twist of fate... so I have been eating dishes cooked using that phantom book all along? And yet I've not been able to savour the cooking of my desires? Even by using the knowledge of the demons I'm not able to reach my ideal? I firmly believed that my wish would come true if I obtained it..." Graham sighed in grief.
Huey silently looked down at him, while Dalian stood up without making a sound.
"Where is the chef?" she broke the silence.
"In the kitchen, I suppose... that cook should be preparing my dinner right now..."
"I do want to meet the chef. Immediately."
"Do as you will. There doesn't seem to be any use for either of us in talking any more," he said in an indifferent tone.
They gave each other a nod and stepped towards the entrance of the room. Her black dress softly expanded like a large shadow.
Graham addressed their backs:
"Wait! ...allow me just one more question, Sir Disward. Why did you come here if not for lending me the phantom book? Why now, after thirteen years...?"
"The books that are lent by a library do have return dates, Mr. Atkinson..." Huey explained coldly without giving him another glance. "Phantom books are books that should not even exist in the world originally, and hence are sealed away. Not even we know what impact one of them could have on the world if not brought back within the time limit."
Graham looked at them in bewilderment.
The black-dressed girl turned around quietly and proclaimed in a cold and clear voice.
"'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' has been lent with a time limit of thirteen years. The return date is—tonight."
His imposing body seemed a lot smaller than before.
"What a twist of fate... so I have been eating dishes cooked using that phantom book all along? And yet I've not been able to savour the cooking of my desires? Even by using the knowledge of the demons I'm not able to reach my ideal? I firmly believed that my wish would come true if I obtained it..." Graham sighed in grief.
Huey silently looked down at him, while Dalian stood up without making a sound.
"Where is the chef?" she broke the silence.
"In the kitchen, I suppose... that cook should be preparing my dinner right now..."
"I do want to meet the chef. Immediately."
"Do as you will. There doesn't seem to be any use for either of us in talking any more," he said in an indifferent tone.
They gave each other a nod and stepped towards the entrance of the room. Her black dress softly expanded like a large shadow.
Graham addressed their backs:
"Wait! ...allow me just one more question, Sir Disward. Why did you come here if not for lending me the phantom book? Why now, after thirteen years...?"
"The books that are lent by a library do have return dates, Mr. Atkinson..." Huey explained coldly without giving him another glance. "Phantom books are books that should not even exist in the world originally, and hence are sealed away. Not even we know what impact one of them could have on the world if not brought back within the time limit."
Graham looked at them in bewilderment.
The black-dressed girl turned around quietly and proclaimed in a cold and clear voice.
"'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' has been lent with a time limit of thirteen years. The return date is—tonight."
Part 3
After leaving Graham's workroom, Huey headed together with Dalian to the kitchen.
On the way they passed through the hall of the dinner party.
The main dishes were served out and the party was reaching its peak. Everyone admired the arrangement of the food and exhausted their vocabulary with their high praise.
"I don't like this mood."
Huey muttered while looking at them. They somehow appeared irregular to him.
"There is also negative criticism about Graham's dinner parties. For example, that he uses endangered animals and plants in his cooking. Or there are rumours about human bones found in the garbage of the kitchen... And I guess they know about this, too."
"...what is so fun about eating all these things?"
Dalian asked back in a earnest expression. Huey just shrugged his shoulders.
"Why indeed? There are people living in this world that are thankful for anything rare. Whatever it is."
"...even though there would be countless better ingredients. Such fools. Just eat bread. And if there is no bread, do eat confectionery."
Dalian explained her own opinion with plain words.
Ignoring her, Huey continued,
"Of course there are many not doubting Graham, since he's an influential man in a high position. Even I thought so until now. But if the chef is holding the Phantom Book, then that's different... I hope it's not going to be troublesome."
The black dressed girl didn't answer his muttering.
She glanced wordlessly at the scenery beyond the windows.
A blood-red full moon was silently hanging in the far sky.
Many cooks were at work in the kitchen.
And like one would expect of a mansion owned by a person renowned as a gourmet, the kitchen area was quite large. The ground was well paved with stone tiles, and on it, many servants, kitchen and scullery maids could be found scampering around.
Then there was one person who finished up the giant amount of dishes; the kitchen utensils seemed as if an extension of her body.
This was, without doubt, the chef of this mansion. Her movements were completely unlike that of the others.
The pot danced around in her hands almost as if it had a will of its own and an appetite quickening odour spread out just by her adding spices or sauces. When she took a knife, she cut meat with solid bones or vegetables with vivid movements and dished them up beautifully like a flower bed, despite that she didn't seem to put much power in her grip.
Huey seemed captivated and stood stock still for a while, unable to shift his gaze.
The chef noticed this and looked up.
Surprisingly, the chef was a young woman, seemingly in her mid-twenties.
She finished up the cooking without stocking, put away the knife and then approached Huey and Dalian.
"...so you were the chef of this mansion?"
Huey asked silently. Upon which the chef - Lesley - smiled apologetically.
She was the person who let them ride on a carriage and lead them to the mansion.
"I already expected... you would come."
Lesley answered looking a bit desolate.
"Why?"
Dalian was the one asking back. Lesley looked down on her in nostalgia and said,
"I've changed quite a bit in those thirteen years, but you look the same like when we met, ...Black Biblioprincess. Or was it your mother that time?"
Dalian didn't answer and just gazed at her.
Instead Huey opened his mouth.
"You know 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'... don't you, Miss Lesley?"
She answered the question with silence.
"Was it you who accepted the Phantom Book thirteen years ago from my grandfather?" asked Huey.
"Yes, exactly."
Lesley nodded.
"I still remember that day. It was on the day of my father's funeral. He lost his employment all of a sudden and tried to drown his frustration in alcohol. In the end, he died due to a mundane quarrel. If the Lord didn't pick me up, I'm sure I would have died."
Saying so, Lesley suddenly seemed to reconsider and shook her head.
"No, that's not quite true. If I didn't have a talent for cooking... if I hadn't read 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking', the Lord wouldn't have employed someone like me with an unknown background... what really rescued me was the Phantom Book I borrowed."
Dalian stared in silence at the chef who had a bitter expression.
Huey asked in a kind voice,
"You are aware of the reason we came to meet you, right?"
Lesley smiled.
"The return date has come, hasn't it?"
After saying so readily, she took off her apron, told a kitchen maid something before starting to lead Huey and Dalian.
"Please follow me. The Phantom Book is stored in my room... naturally, I've treated it with great care and didn't do anything that would have brought damage to the book."
"Is Mr. Graham's dinner all right?"
Huey called out to Lesley's back in bewilderment.
She smiled triumphantly and nodded.
"Yes. The dinner of the Lord is almost done. I only need to arrange the last few ingredients."
Lesley kept walking while the duo followed silently behind her.
The room of the chef was underground, not that distant from the kitchen. It was a simple room that one wouldn't expect of a renowned cook. Lesley opened the old solid wood door using an old bronze key.
Dalian muttered suddenly to her back,
"Phantom Books do choose their holders themselves."
Lesley turned around with a wary expression, but Dalian kept looking straight into her face and continued,
"If someone without the qualifications is holding a Phantom Book, then this person gets engulfed in the magical power of the book... I only know very few Phantom Book Readers that held a Phantom Book for thirteen years and didn't drown in this power."
"...Should I be proud about this?"
Lesley smiled, a bit bothered, before shaking her head.
"But I just prepared dishes like it was written in the book. Naturally, it didn't go all that well from the start. I used several years just to learn the basic techniques. But after I've learned those techniques, I just needed to obtain the best ingredients and draw out the delightfulness... I just continued to prepare the dishes written in the Phantom Book like this."
After leaving Graham's workroom, Huey headed together with Dalian to the kitchen.
On the way they passed through the hall of the dinner party.
The main dishes were served out and the party was reaching its peak. Everyone admired the arrangement of the food and exhausted their vocabulary with their high praise.
"I don't like this mood."
Huey muttered while looking at them. They somehow appeared irregular to him.
"There is also negative criticism about Graham's dinner parties. For example, that he uses endangered animals and plants in his cooking. Or there are rumours about human bones found in the garbage of the kitchen... And I guess they know about this, too."
"...what is so fun about eating all these things?"
Dalian asked back in a earnest expression. Huey just shrugged his shoulders.
"Why indeed? There are people living in this world that are thankful for anything rare. Whatever it is."
"...even though there would be countless better ingredients. Such fools. Just eat bread. And if there is no bread, do eat confectionery."
Dalian explained her own opinion with plain words.
Ignoring her, Huey continued,
"Of course there are many not doubting Graham, since he's an influential man in a high position. Even I thought so until now. But if the chef is holding the Phantom Book, then that's different... I hope it's not going to be troublesome."
The black dressed girl didn't answer his muttering.
She glanced wordlessly at the scenery beyond the windows.
A blood-red full moon was silently hanging in the far sky.
Many cooks were at work in the kitchen.
And like one would expect of a mansion owned by a person renowned as a gourmet, the kitchen area was quite large. The ground was well paved with stone tiles, and on it, many servants, kitchen and scullery maids could be found scampering around.
Then there was one person who finished up the giant amount of dishes; the kitchen utensils seemed as if an extension of her body.
This was, without doubt, the chef of this mansion. Her movements were completely unlike that of the others.
The pot danced around in her hands almost as if it had a will of its own and an appetite quickening odour spread out just by her adding spices or sauces. When she took a knife, she cut meat with solid bones or vegetables with vivid movements and dished them up beautifully like a flower bed, despite that she didn't seem to put much power in her grip.
Huey seemed captivated and stood stock still for a while, unable to shift his gaze.
The chef noticed this and looked up.
Surprisingly, the chef was a young woman, seemingly in her mid-twenties.
She finished up the cooking without stocking, put away the knife and then approached Huey and Dalian.
"...so you were the chef of this mansion?"
Huey asked silently. Upon which the chef - Lesley - smiled apologetically.
She was the person who let them ride on a carriage and lead them to the mansion.
"I already expected... you would come."
Lesley answered looking a bit desolate.
"Why?"
Dalian was the one asking back. Lesley looked down on her in nostalgia and said,
"I've changed quite a bit in those thirteen years, but you look the same like when we met, ...Black Biblioprincess. Or was it your mother that time?"
Dalian didn't answer and just gazed at her.
Instead Huey opened his mouth.
"You know 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'... don't you, Miss Lesley?"
She answered the question with silence.
"Was it you who accepted the Phantom Book thirteen years ago from my grandfather?" asked Huey.
"Yes, exactly."
Lesley nodded.
"I still remember that day. It was on the day of my father's funeral. He lost his employment all of a sudden and tried to drown his frustration in alcohol. In the end, he died due to a mundane quarrel. If the Lord didn't pick me up, I'm sure I would have died."
Saying so, Lesley suddenly seemed to reconsider and shook her head.
"No, that's not quite true. If I didn't have a talent for cooking... if I hadn't read 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking', the Lord wouldn't have employed someone like me with an unknown background... what really rescued me was the Phantom Book I borrowed."
Dalian stared in silence at the chef who had a bitter expression.
Huey asked in a kind voice,
"You are aware of the reason we came to meet you, right?"
Lesley smiled.
"The return date has come, hasn't it?"
After saying so readily, she took off her apron, told a kitchen maid something before starting to lead Huey and Dalian.
"Please follow me. The Phantom Book is stored in my room... naturally, I've treated it with great care and didn't do anything that would have brought damage to the book."
"Is Mr. Graham's dinner all right?"
Huey called out to Lesley's back in bewilderment.
She smiled triumphantly and nodded.
"Yes. The dinner of the Lord is almost done. I only need to arrange the last few ingredients."
Lesley kept walking while the duo followed silently behind her.
The room of the chef was underground, not that distant from the kitchen. It was a simple room that one wouldn't expect of a renowned cook. Lesley opened the old solid wood door using an old bronze key.
Dalian muttered suddenly to her back,
"Phantom Books do choose their holders themselves."
Lesley turned around with a wary expression, but Dalian kept looking straight into her face and continued,
"If someone without the qualifications is holding a Phantom Book, then this person gets engulfed in the magical power of the book... I only know very few Phantom Book Readers that held a Phantom Book for thirteen years and didn't drown in this power."
"...Should I be proud about this?"
Lesley smiled, a bit bothered, before shaking her head.
"But I just prepared dishes like it was written in the book. Naturally, it didn't go all that well from the start. I used several years just to learn the basic techniques. But after I've learned those techniques, I just needed to obtain the best ingredients and draw out the delightfulness... I just continued to prepare the dishes written in the Phantom Book like this."
The intonation of her voice slowly weakened while she continued to mutter.
Her face lost every expression and looked empty, almost as if in a state of trance.
"...Where is the Phantom Book, Miss Lesley?"
Huey asked while looking around in the dark underground room.
"Not yet..."
Lesley said smiling artificially.
She took a bottle filled with an unfamiliar spice from a spice-shelf beside the entrance and opened the lid.
"The Lord is not yet satisfied with my cooking. I'm aware of this, for I've not yet made the 'true' cooking written in the Phantom Book...!"
"Lesley?"
Huey called out to her in a serious voice.
She turned around and shook the bottle with natural movements one could get charmed by. The weird-coloured fine powder poured down on Huey's entire body.
"What's this...?!"
Huey put himself on guard with a severe expression. However, without stopping to smile, Lesley said,
"Don't worry, Mr. Huey. This is just a spice I mixed myself. The smell will disappear late at night. But until then, please don't leave this room. If you do, you could get into some serious trouble..."
She said so while stepping back and grabbed the doorknob. She planned to lock in Huey and Dalian.
Huey reflexively took position to chase after her but then stopped, when he saw that the chef suddenly was holding a knife in her hands. He had noticed that Lesley wasn't looking at him, but at Dalian.
"What are you trying to do, Lesley?" Huey asked with a sigh.
"I shouldn't even need to say this."
Lesley slowly closed the door to the underground room.
With the dignified sound of metal, the door was locked with no mercy. The last thing that could be heard inside the darkened underground room was the bright voice of the chef.
"By all means I have to serve this cooking to the Lord! The best cooking I used thirteen years to complete!"
Her face lost every expression and looked empty, almost as if in a state of trance.
"...Where is the Phantom Book, Miss Lesley?"
Huey asked while looking around in the dark underground room.
"Not yet..."
Lesley said smiling artificially.
She took a bottle filled with an unfamiliar spice from a spice-shelf beside the entrance and opened the lid.
"The Lord is not yet satisfied with my cooking. I'm aware of this, for I've not yet made the 'true' cooking written in the Phantom Book...!"
"Lesley?"
Huey called out to her in a serious voice.
She turned around and shook the bottle with natural movements one could get charmed by. The weird-coloured fine powder poured down on Huey's entire body.
"What's this...?!"
Huey put himself on guard with a severe expression. However, without stopping to smile, Lesley said,
"Don't worry, Mr. Huey. This is just a spice I mixed myself. The smell will disappear late at night. But until then, please don't leave this room. If you do, you could get into some serious trouble..."
She said so while stepping back and grabbed the doorknob. She planned to lock in Huey and Dalian.
Huey reflexively took position to chase after her but then stopped, when he saw that the chef suddenly was holding a knife in her hands. He had noticed that Lesley wasn't looking at him, but at Dalian.
"What are you trying to do, Lesley?" Huey asked with a sigh.
"I shouldn't even need to say this."
Lesley slowly closed the door to the underground room.
With the dignified sound of metal, the door was locked with no mercy. The last thing that could be heard inside the darkened underground room was the bright voice of the chef.
"By all means I have to serve this cooking to the Lord! The best cooking I used thirteen years to complete!"
Part 5
The gourmet Graham Atkinson was currently dining.
Several plates filled with extravagant cuisine were tightly lined up on his personal dining table in his workroom.
The main dish was an unfamiliar meat dish. The freshly cooked and sliced meat had to be dipped in the specially made sauce. The sauce was superbly refined using countless different herbs and spices and its fragrance engulfed the entire room in a fascinating aroma.
Graham's appearance was fulfilled with bliss like never before.
Each time he led the silver fork to his mouth, the word of praise "Wonderful" escaped him.
The chef herself was taking on the role of the waitress, wearing a gorgeous apron.
When she noticed the figures entering the room, she restfully raised her face.
And a light expression of surprise floated over her features.
The visitors of the workroom were a party of two. A young man wearing a frock coat and a black-swathed girl.
The girl was holding a massive book in her arms. The colour of the cover of the book had already faded to a brown tint. It was a manuscript written on parchment. However, except for this no change whatsoever could be seen on their appearance.
The odour of the special mixture of spices was still rising from the body of the young man.
"I'm surprised you managed to arrive here unharmed... a great number of people was supposed to be in the big hall, but didn't you get attacked by them?"
The chef Lesley asked in a calm voice.
Huey shook his head with a wry smile.
"We had those gentlemen sleep for a little while."
"...sleep?"
"'Hazār Afsān', a collection of tales compiled in ancient Persia---"
Huey said taking a peek at the book in Dalian's arms.
"The tyrannic Islamic king Shahryār is said to have slept for thousand and one days after having gotten it read aloud to him. It's the book that was later also used as the manuscript of 'One Thousand and One Nights' and makes the ones that hear the stories of it fall asleep. However, it's not supposed to exist any more since it has been burned when the Mongolian army raided Baghdad."
"The Phantom Books that shouldn't exist in this world... right? But where on earth did you get this...?"
Lesley smiled amazed.
"I suppose this was a foolish question... you are the owners of the Bibliotheca of Dantalian. The Princess of the Phantom Bibliotheca containing 900666 Phantom Books and its gatekeeper---"
The chef reached for the wagon with the dishes and picked up a book.
The era couldn't be determined, but it was quite an old book. The words "The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking" were engraved on its cover. Embracing this book tightly, she said in a kind voice,
"My father was a cook, too. He worked at this mansion thirteen years ago... but his cuisine couldn't satisfy the Lord, no, my father just accidentally used injured ingredients once and was fired just because of that. As a consequence, he died shortly after."
"...so you're here for revenge?"
Huey said, keeping a straight face.
"Yes, that was my plan... at the beginning."
Lesley nodded pleasantly.
"I thought about modifying the cooking or mixing poison into it. However, the Lord would never accept the cooking of some subordinate cook, and if there was something mixed in the cooking, he would surely notice it. I realised that I couldn't harm the Lord as long as I didn't master the art of cookery."
Huey listened without disrupting her.
Graham continued to silently eat his dinner. His silverware could be heard resounding in the room.
"From then on I was absorbed in reading the Phantom Book I'd borrowed and spent day and night polishing my skills. Thanks to this, the kitchen has been entrusted to me and before I knew it, I've earned a reputation as a cook. Then I noticed. The Lord was completely right in firing an incompetent cook - in other words, my father."
Lesley smiled brightly with a triumphant look.
"And most of all, I began to seek for the best cooking myself. But the journey was fraught with difficulties. 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' contained many hints to achieve this goal, but the recipe for the best cooking itself wasn't written in it."
Lesley put the book away silently.
She looked contently down to her cookery lined up on the dining table.
"However... at last it has been accomplished tonight. I've made the best cooking."
A sense of fulfillment was contained in her low voice, the kind that only people who have finished a masterpiece have.
"Wonderful..."
Graham mumbled with a full mouth.
"Wonderful... This is the cooking I've been seeking for. More... Let me eat more."
The silverware of the gourmet made woeful circles over the empty plate.
Lesley gripped her favourite knife, opened the lid of the container and vividly cut up fresh pieces of meat. She placed them on the plate with fluid movements and ladled a perfect serving of sauce over it.
Lastly, she served it soundlessly to her employer.
"The teachings of 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' were simple. Drawing the taste out of the best raw materials without hurting them. For this, I've polished my techniques and learned how to cook living beings without letting them feel pain. But this wasn't enough."
Lesley said, with a melancholic face.
"It doesn't suffice to just make sure they don't suffer. Rather, they have to find it pleasant. The secret for the best cooking was to let the raw materials feel the greatest of pleasures so they would be fulfilled with pleasurable substances while cooking them."
"...The greatest of pleasures?"
Huey asked calmly back.
"It's gourmet food."
Lesley laughed, looking a bit triumphant.
"Gourmet food is an enjoyment limited to humans. And just imagine the insurmountable delight that the person that took gourmet food to the extremes feels, when he comes across the perfect cooking. The brain at the instant when it's fulfilled with pleasurable substances is the best ingredient in this world."
She put down the knife on the wagon and thoroughly washed her hands in a water bowl. Then she dried them with a brand new towel and again took the Phantom Book in her hands.
"I'll return this book as I don't need it any more-"
Dalian easefully walked to her and accepted the Phantom Book.
Huey gazed wordlessly at her back.
"...I liked your fried bread."
At length, Dalian said so in a slightly sad voice. Lesley inclined her head doubtfully, but Dalian continued,
"Even without the best ingredients, it was a most fulfilled taste."
In this moment Lesley breathed up, almost like she remembered something long forgotten, and her expression froze.
But this was just for a moment.
The young chef nodded immediately as if nothing had happened and applied her attention again to Graham.
Huey and Dalian turned their backs and silently left the workroom.
"Aah... more... let me eat more..."
The gourmet murmured in an enraptured voice. The words changed to the groan of an animal in the middle and couldn't be heard well any more. Even so Lesley smiled brightly.
"Please be at ease, my Lord. There's still plenty."
Putting the freshly cut up meat on the plate, she held it out to the man waiting for her.
Then she gently closed the lid of the container containing the valuable ingredient. This container had once been the skull of the man called Graham Atkinson.
The gourmet, famous in the capital, led a piece of his own freshly cut up brain with relish to his mouth and, with a blissful mien, --- smiled.
The gourmet Graham Atkinson was currently dining.
Several plates filled with extravagant cuisine were tightly lined up on his personal dining table in his workroom.
The main dish was an unfamiliar meat dish. The freshly cooked and sliced meat had to be dipped in the specially made sauce. The sauce was superbly refined using countless different herbs and spices and its fragrance engulfed the entire room in a fascinating aroma.
Graham's appearance was fulfilled with bliss like never before.
Each time he led the silver fork to his mouth, the word of praise "Wonderful" escaped him.
The chef herself was taking on the role of the waitress, wearing a gorgeous apron.
When she noticed the figures entering the room, she restfully raised her face.
And a light expression of surprise floated over her features.
The visitors of the workroom were a party of two. A young man wearing a frock coat and a black-swathed girl.
The girl was holding a massive book in her arms. The colour of the cover of the book had already faded to a brown tint. It was a manuscript written on parchment. However, except for this no change whatsoever could be seen on their appearance.
The odour of the special mixture of spices was still rising from the body of the young man.
"I'm surprised you managed to arrive here unharmed... a great number of people was supposed to be in the big hall, but didn't you get attacked by them?"
The chef Lesley asked in a calm voice.
Huey shook his head with a wry smile.
"We had those gentlemen sleep for a little while."
"...sleep?"
"'Hazār Afsān', a collection of tales compiled in ancient Persia---"
Huey said taking a peek at the book in Dalian's arms.
"The tyrannic Islamic king Shahryār is said to have slept for thousand and one days after having gotten it read aloud to him. It's the book that was later also used as the manuscript of 'One Thousand and One Nights' and makes the ones that hear the stories of it fall asleep. However, it's not supposed to exist any more since it has been burned when the Mongolian army raided Baghdad."
"The Phantom Books that shouldn't exist in this world... right? But where on earth did you get this...?"
Lesley smiled amazed.
"I suppose this was a foolish question... you are the owners of the Bibliotheca of Dantalian. The Princess of the Phantom Bibliotheca containing 900666 Phantom Books and its gatekeeper---"
The chef reached for the wagon with the dishes and picked up a book.
The era couldn't be determined, but it was quite an old book. The words "The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking" were engraved on its cover. Embracing this book tightly, she said in a kind voice,
"My father was a cook, too. He worked at this mansion thirteen years ago... but his cuisine couldn't satisfy the Lord, no, my father just accidentally used injured ingredients once and was fired just because of that. As a consequence, he died shortly after."
"...so you're here for revenge?"
Huey said, keeping a straight face.
"Yes, that was my plan... at the beginning."
Lesley nodded pleasantly.
"I thought about modifying the cooking or mixing poison into it. However, the Lord would never accept the cooking of some subordinate cook, and if there was something mixed in the cooking, he would surely notice it. I realised that I couldn't harm the Lord as long as I didn't master the art of cookery."
Huey listened without disrupting her.
Graham continued to silently eat his dinner. His silverware could be heard resounding in the room.
"From then on I was absorbed in reading the Phantom Book I'd borrowed and spent day and night polishing my skills. Thanks to this, the kitchen has been entrusted to me and before I knew it, I've earned a reputation as a cook. Then I noticed. The Lord was completely right in firing an incompetent cook - in other words, my father."
Lesley smiled brightly with a triumphant look.
"And most of all, I began to seek for the best cooking myself. But the journey was fraught with difficulties. 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' contained many hints to achieve this goal, but the recipe for the best cooking itself wasn't written in it."
Lesley put the book away silently.
She looked contently down to her cookery lined up on the dining table.
"However... at last it has been accomplished tonight. I've made the best cooking."
A sense of fulfillment was contained in her low voice, the kind that only people who have finished a masterpiece have.
"Wonderful..."
Graham mumbled with a full mouth.
"Wonderful... This is the cooking I've been seeking for. More... Let me eat more."
The silverware of the gourmet made woeful circles over the empty plate.
Lesley gripped her favourite knife, opened the lid of the container and vividly cut up fresh pieces of meat. She placed them on the plate with fluid movements and ladled a perfect serving of sauce over it.
Lastly, she served it soundlessly to her employer.
"The teachings of 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' were simple. Drawing the taste out of the best raw materials without hurting them. For this, I've polished my techniques and learned how to cook living beings without letting them feel pain. But this wasn't enough."
Lesley said, with a melancholic face.
"It doesn't suffice to just make sure they don't suffer. Rather, they have to find it pleasant. The secret for the best cooking was to let the raw materials feel the greatest of pleasures so they would be fulfilled with pleasurable substances while cooking them."
"...The greatest of pleasures?"
Huey asked calmly back.
"It's gourmet food."
Lesley laughed, looking a bit triumphant.
"Gourmet food is an enjoyment limited to humans. And just imagine the insurmountable delight that the person that took gourmet food to the extremes feels, when he comes across the perfect cooking. The brain at the instant when it's fulfilled with pleasurable substances is the best ingredient in this world."
She put down the knife on the wagon and thoroughly washed her hands in a water bowl. Then she dried them with a brand new towel and again took the Phantom Book in her hands.
"I'll return this book as I don't need it any more-"
Dalian easefully walked to her and accepted the Phantom Book.
Huey gazed wordlessly at her back.
"...I liked your fried bread."
At length, Dalian said so in a slightly sad voice. Lesley inclined her head doubtfully, but Dalian continued,
"Even without the best ingredients, it was a most fulfilled taste."
In this moment Lesley breathed up, almost like she remembered something long forgotten, and her expression froze.
But this was just for a moment.
The young chef nodded immediately as if nothing had happened and applied her attention again to Graham.
Huey and Dalian turned their backs and silently left the workroom.
"Aah... more... let me eat more..."
The gourmet murmured in an enraptured voice. The words changed to the groan of an animal in the middle and couldn't be heard well any more. Even so Lesley smiled brightly.
"Please be at ease, my Lord. There's still plenty."
Putting the freshly cut up meat on the plate, she held it out to the man waiting for her.
Then she gently closed the lid of the container containing the valuable ingredient. This container had once been the skull of the man called Graham Atkinson.
The gourmet, famous in the capital, led a piece of his own freshly cut up brain with relish to his mouth and, with a blissful mien, --- smiled.
Huey kept quiet for a while and gazed at the bearded face of the host. Then he lost his focus and breathed out,
"Err... Can you tell me more about this?"
The host sighed deeply.
"A servant of the Ashwells witnessed it. How this beast killed the whole family, and in the end, escaped through the window after it ate a bit of them."
"For real...?"
Huey asked back, perplexed. The host nodded deeply,
"Well... The servant collapsed right after the police arrived and the thing about it being bigger than a cow probably is not true. But I also don't think it's all a lie, since there actually were corpses eroded by a beast. And there were also strands of hair and footprints."
"I see..."
Huey dropped his gaze to the newspaper. The contents of it were clearly substantiating the host's words.
"So the people gathered here are planning to hunt the beast?"
Huey asked, gazing at the main street, which one could see from the entrance of the pub.
There were about 4, 5 dogs, which looked like hunting dogs, fastened carelessly to the street light. And the long and narrow luggage several guests of the pub were carrying, were probably their hunting guns.
The host continued in an indifferent voice.
"Vengeance for the Lord... a lot of people got support from him, you see. Especially the townspeople involved with this damn provoking Hurston family..."
"Hurston family?"
Huey inclined his head once again. This name wasn't written in the newspaper.
The host nosed displeasedly.
"Didn't you notice when you arrived? This ****ing big fertilizer factory."
"If you're talking about the building I could see from the window in the train..."
"Yeah, that's it. The city council member Roy Hurston is managing this factory, but this damn greenhorn fired about 500 workers half a year ago - unilateral, just because he brought in a new machine!"
"Dismissal? But what happened to the workers...?"
Huey asked in a serious voice. The host shrugged his shoulders bluntly,
"See, there's no other industry company in this town. It was awful. When they were on the edge of hanging themselves or becoming criminals, Mr. Ashwell came and rescued them."
"Rescued them....?"
"It's called 'class-action'. He stirred up the press and caused an uproar with this. It seems like he even got back support of the noble and wealthy people of the capital. Thanks to this, that Hurston greenhorn got severely criticized in court. Everyone was delighted when he won the lawsuit right in the first instance."
"I see," Huey nodded. Ashwell surely could be called a hero.
"And now the former employees want to avenge him...?"
"They seem to be planning to go on a mountain hunt together with the hunters and ex-servicemen that gathered from nearby. Some of them want to strike it rich by capturing this mysterious beast alive... I was sure that you'd also belong to this bunch. I mean, you've also been a soldier, right?"
"No... I was just a pilot."
Huey shook his head with a smile.
The host looked wonderingly at Huey.
"Hmm... If you're not aiming for the beast, then why did you come to this town...?"
Huey lightly stiffened his cheeks and nodded.
"Well... I have an appointment with an acquaintance of an acquaintance. This bread, I'll be taking this with me, all right?"
"U, Uuh...?"
Huey hurriedly wrapped up some fried bread in oil paper and walked away. The host gazed in wonder at him for a while. Huey pretended to not notice this and returned with fast steps to his table.
Dalian was already on watch for him with a bitter expression, embracing the sugar pot.
"You are late! How long does it take you to get some bread, you lame duck?"
Even before Huey could sit down, Dalian started berating him. Huey made a tired face and said,
"...let's go, Dalian."
The girl looked up, befuddled, and held out her hands covered with protectors.
"What are you talking about? I will be eating this fried bread now. Hurry up and hand it over."
"The family of your acquaintance seems to be pretty unpopular in this town... if they find out that our destination is the house of the Hurston's, then they'd probably cause quite an uproar."
Saying so, Huey started to put together their luggage. Seeing this, Dalian panicked. While standing up hurriedly, she reached out her hands and said,
"Hey Huey, why are you stowing the bread away? I've not put sugar on it yet. Huey!"
"It also seems better if we not search for a carriage nearby. It can't be helped... We'll have to walk for a bit."
"Hey! What are you doing? Let go of my hands. Where are you touching me? How lewd!"
Huey took the kicking and struggling little girl, almost like luggage, under his arms and left the shop.
Beholding the sugar pot left on the table woefully, Dalian muttered in a tearful voice,
"Sugar..."
"Err... Can you tell me more about this?"
The host sighed deeply.
"A servant of the Ashwells witnessed it. How this beast killed the whole family, and in the end, escaped through the window after it ate a bit of them."
"For real...?"
Huey asked back, perplexed. The host nodded deeply,
"Well... The servant collapsed right after the police arrived and the thing about it being bigger than a cow probably is not true. But I also don't think it's all a lie, since there actually were corpses eroded by a beast. And there were also strands of hair and footprints."
"I see..."
Huey dropped his gaze to the newspaper. The contents of it were clearly substantiating the host's words.
"So the people gathered here are planning to hunt the beast?"
Huey asked, gazing at the main street, which one could see from the entrance of the pub.
There were about 4, 5 dogs, which looked like hunting dogs, fastened carelessly to the street light. And the long and narrow luggage several guests of the pub were carrying, were probably their hunting guns.
The host continued in an indifferent voice.
"Vengeance for the Lord... a lot of people got support from him, you see. Especially the townspeople involved with this damn provoking Hurston family..."
"Hurston family?"
Huey inclined his head once again. This name wasn't written in the newspaper.
The host nosed displeasedly.
"Didn't you notice when you arrived? This ****ing big fertilizer factory."
"If you're talking about the building I could see from the window in the train..."
"Yeah, that's it. The city council member Roy Hurston is managing this factory, but this damn greenhorn fired about 500 workers half a year ago - unilateral, just because he brought in a new machine!"
"Dismissal? But what happened to the workers...?"
Huey asked in a serious voice. The host shrugged his shoulders bluntly,
"See, there's no other industry company in this town. It was awful. When they were on the edge of hanging themselves or becoming criminals, Mr. Ashwell came and rescued them."
"Rescued them....?"
"It's called 'class-action'. He stirred up the press and caused an uproar with this. It seems like he even got back support of the noble and wealthy people of the capital. Thanks to this, that Hurston greenhorn got severely criticized in court. Everyone was delighted when he won the lawsuit right in the first instance."
"I see," Huey nodded. Ashwell surely could be called a hero.
"And now the former employees want to avenge him...?"
"They seem to be planning to go on a mountain hunt together with the hunters and ex-servicemen that gathered from nearby. Some of them want to strike it rich by capturing this mysterious beast alive... I was sure that you'd also belong to this bunch. I mean, you've also been a soldier, right?"
"No... I was just a pilot."
Huey shook his head with a smile.
The host looked wonderingly at Huey.
"Hmm... If you're not aiming for the beast, then why did you come to this town...?"
Huey lightly stiffened his cheeks and nodded.
"Well... I have an appointment with an acquaintance of an acquaintance. This bread, I'll be taking this with me, all right?"
"U, Uuh...?"
Huey hurriedly wrapped up some fried bread in oil paper and walked away. The host gazed in wonder at him for a while. Huey pretended to not notice this and returned with fast steps to his table.
Dalian was already on watch for him with a bitter expression, embracing the sugar pot.
"You are late! How long does it take you to get some bread, you lame duck?"
Even before Huey could sit down, Dalian started berating him. Huey made a tired face and said,
"...let's go, Dalian."
The girl looked up, befuddled, and held out her hands covered with protectors.
"What are you talking about? I will be eating this fried bread now. Hurry up and hand it over."
"The family of your acquaintance seems to be pretty unpopular in this town... if they find out that our destination is the house of the Hurston's, then they'd probably cause quite an uproar."
Saying so, Huey started to put together their luggage. Seeing this, Dalian panicked. While standing up hurriedly, she reached out her hands and said,
"Hey Huey, why are you stowing the bread away? I've not put sugar on it yet. Huey!"
"It also seems better if we not search for a carriage nearby. It can't be helped... We'll have to walk for a bit."
"Hey! What are you doing? Let go of my hands. Where are you touching me? How lewd!"
Huey took the kicking and struggling little girl, almost like luggage, under his arms and left the shop.
Beholding the sugar pot left on the table woefully, Dalian muttered in a tearful voice,
"Sugar..."
"Of course. There isn't anyone else with the qualifications."
Roy said so, without hesitation. It was no bluff. He was full of pure confidence.
He suddenly narrowed his eyes in displeasure.
Two men, looking like guests, were walking on a corridor in the mansion. Roy had noticed that. The two of them were wearing the same type of coat and radiated a kind of authority.
"Excuse me. It seems the Police have come again."
Roy said so, glancing at them with evil eyes. Huey seemed suspicious.
"Police?"
"To obtain information. Recently there was an incident of a lawyer's family getting massacred. There is a bunch that is slandering us with their unfounded rumours."
Huey looked at him sceptically.
"It seems the man that got murdered fought against you at court, right?"
"Right. It's a real bother. Thanks to this we're now suspected even after he was bitten to death. See, there are even absurd rumours of a giant beast at the scene of the crime..."
Roy didn't seem to care much and smirked.
"Well, we let them investigate the mansion until they've got enough. However much they search, I don't think they'll find a monster wolf of the size of a cow."
Roy left with these words and Huey gazed for a while after him silently. Then, at once, he seemed to have recalled something and turned around to the black-dressed girl.
Dalian was taking a break from reading and absent-mindedly stared at a flower bed.
The fence was decorated with lovely ornaments and the tendrils of blue roses in bloom were twined around it.
"Blue roses...? Very pretty."
Huey spoke to Dalian after having watched her admiring the roses as if it was something out of the common.
"Do you know the blue rose's meaning in the language of flowers, Huey?"
Dalian opened her mouth and said so bluntly without moving a muscle. Huey shook his head,
"No, can you tell me?"
"Unattainable goal... or attaining the impossible."
"...attaining the impossible?"
"Blue pigments do not exist in roses to begin with. Whatever cultivar you combine, it is, strictly speaking, impossible to create a blue rose."
Roy said so, without hesitation. It was no bluff. He was full of pure confidence.
He suddenly narrowed his eyes in displeasure.
Two men, looking like guests, were walking on a corridor in the mansion. Roy had noticed that. The two of them were wearing the same type of coat and radiated a kind of authority.
"Excuse me. It seems the Police have come again."
Roy said so, glancing at them with evil eyes. Huey seemed suspicious.
"Police?"
"To obtain information. Recently there was an incident of a lawyer's family getting massacred. There is a bunch that is slandering us with their unfounded rumours."
Huey looked at him sceptically.
"It seems the man that got murdered fought against you at court, right?"
"Right. It's a real bother. Thanks to this we're now suspected even after he was bitten to death. See, there are even absurd rumours of a giant beast at the scene of the crime..."
Roy didn't seem to care much and smirked.
"Well, we let them investigate the mansion until they've got enough. However much they search, I don't think they'll find a monster wolf of the size of a cow."
Roy left with these words and Huey gazed for a while after him silently. Then, at once, he seemed to have recalled something and turned around to the black-dressed girl.
Dalian was taking a break from reading and absent-mindedly stared at a flower bed.
The fence was decorated with lovely ornaments and the tendrils of blue roses in bloom were twined around it.
"Blue roses...? Very pretty."
Huey spoke to Dalian after having watched her admiring the roses as if it was something out of the common.
"Do you know the blue rose's meaning in the language of flowers, Huey?"
Dalian opened her mouth and said so bluntly without moving a muscle. Huey shook his head,
"No, can you tell me?"
"Unattainable goal... or attaining the impossible."
"...attaining the impossible?"
"Blue pigments do not exist in roses to begin with. Whatever cultivar you combine, it is, strictly speaking, impossible to create a blue rose."
"Impossible you say... but what's this then?"
Huey touched the roses, surprised. Admittedly the colour was unusual, but they were definitely roses. Layers of lovely petals and thorns on the tendrils.
Dalian nodded restfully.
"They are roses. However, their genes were recombined and the function of another plant was implanted that produces blue pigments. It's an artificial rose---"
"The genes...? It's possible to do this...?"
"It's impossible with the knowledge and technology of the current age. But if there is something that can grant this knowledge to mankind---"
"The Phantom Books that should not exist in this world... I guess?"
Huey sighed deeply.
"Correct. This is the forbidden knowledge the owner of 'The Pedigree of All Creation' can obtain."
Dalian murmured so, and cast down her eyes.
Huey seemed to have noticed something and raised his face.
"Dalian... if someone with this knowledge is able to produce such roses, can he also create monsters that shouldn't originally exist? For example, an improved hunting dog of the size of a cow and resembling a wolf. This would be..."
"Correct. Probably..."
Dalian answered as quickly as a shot. Apparently, she thought the same thing.
Huey touched the roses, surprised. Admittedly the colour was unusual, but they were definitely roses. Layers of lovely petals and thorns on the tendrils.
Dalian nodded restfully.
"They are roses. However, their genes were recombined and the function of another plant was implanted that produces blue pigments. It's an artificial rose---"
"The genes...? It's possible to do this...?"
"It's impossible with the knowledge and technology of the current age. But if there is something that can grant this knowledge to mankind---"
"The Phantom Books that should not exist in this world... I guess?"
Huey sighed deeply.
"Correct. This is the forbidden knowledge the owner of 'The Pedigree of All Creation' can obtain."
Dalian murmured so, and cast down her eyes.
Huey seemed to have noticed something and raised his face.
"Dalian... if someone with this knowledge is able to produce such roses, can he also create monsters that shouldn't originally exist? For example, an improved hunting dog of the size of a cow and resembling a wolf. This would be..."
"Correct. Probably..."
Dalian answered as quickly as a shot. Apparently, she thought the same thing.
"The one having a motive is the older brother, Roy. But does such a busy person have the time to tame such a monster...? To begin with, how to raise a beast of a cow's size unseen? And where to hide it? Locking it up would be too conspicuous."
"So... do you think the Hurston family has nothing to do with the beast of Ashwell, Dalian?"
Huey muttered in a somehow taken aback voice.
Dalian kept silent for a while, but then answered,
"We will talk about this later, Huey."
She said so suddenly, in an urging voice.
One could see sweat appearing on her smooth doll-like face. Seemingly feeling danger, Dalian turned around, embracing her book,
"Grh... the escape route has been blocked."
She distorted her well-formed lips and moaned weakly.
Dogs were obstructing her path.
They were puppies on a level even smaller than the ones Chez took with him before. Two similar spaniels were drawing near from both sides, wagging their short tails.
The black-dressed girl backed off slowly, but tripped over the edge of the flower bed and fell face up.
The puppies seemed to misunderstand this as a signal to play and jumped joyfully towards her.
"Hey, what are you doing? Stop it... Ah! This place is no good. Don't lick there... the book, no, the book is no good! Incorrect!"
Dalian's cries resounded in the garden at evening.
Part 5
Late at night. Huey and Dalian were guided to an annex of the mansion.
The building was made of old limestone and made one feel the history of the Hurston family. This dark gray building seemed to be the current residence of the present head Boyd.
"Ah, you've come..."
Boyd saw Dalian arriving and muttered so contentedly.
Other than he, only the brothers Chez and Roy were in the old man's workroom. There were no butlers, nor were there any servants.
"Thank you for waiting."
The black-dressed girl proclaimed calmly.
She was carrying an old book under her arm.
But it was not one of the books she freely took out from the mansion. A leather cover that had grown stale. The binding was splendidly decorated with gold. And then the crest engraved into the book. 'The Pedigree of All Creation' - this was its title.
"Ooh... this is exactly... like then..."
The old man reached out his bony hands but then desisted from doing so and stopped his movements.
Phantom Books grant their readers access to forbidden knowledge. But if someone is possessing one of them for a too long a time, it will bring various distortions to this world. This tendency is even more severe when someone other than the proper owner is taking it into the hands. He knows about this. The old man is not the owner of the Phantom Book any more.
"Grandfather... the inheritance of the status of the present head is all well and good, but wouldn't it be better to call a public notary? And why on earth in such a room...?"
Roy spoke in a lightly irritated voice. He was probably unpleased about not knowing his grandfather's real intention.
However, the old man ignored Roy's question,
"May you open this door, Sir Disward?"
Huey grabbed for the knob of the door inside the workroom as commanded.
The thick metallic door opened with a creaking sound. Beyond was a stairway leading to the underground.
"What is this...?!"
One could hear Roy's gasp. Also Chez was opening his eyes wide.
The stairs didn't reach so wide. The room wasn't completely underground, but rather was like a secret chamber of which one half was buried in the ground. Compared to the other rooms of the mansion, this one was about half of their size.
On one side of the windowless room, unfamiliar chemicals were tidily lined up.
The room was filled with countless experimenting utensils like test tubes and microscopes. It looked more like the laboratory of a hospital or university, than the workroom of a gentry family.
Roy groaned when he looked around in the room while walking down the stairs with an oil lamp in his hand.
"I never would have guessed that there's such an establishment under the annex... what is all this, Grandfather?"
"A room built using the knowledge granted by the 'The Pedigree of All Creation'... it's a room for forbidden secret ceremonies."
Boyd Hurston answered with a faint smile.
Chez was the one carrying the old man. He lifted his grandfather up together with the wheelchair and walked down the stairs carefully. He was stronger than he looked with his slender body.
"Nostalgic...isn't it...? Roy, Chez..."
The old man said so, cryptically. The two brothers looked at each other sceptically.
"It's the place you two were brought forth!"
"The place we were brought forth...? What do you mean, grandfather?"
Roy glared offended at the old man.
The old man cackled,
"Our family is in contact with the Royal Family through their dog kennel... you know that, right...?"
"Yes, of course. This is because the dogs raised by us are exceptional."
Roy puffed up with pride. "Mhm", the old man nodded.
"We weren't only instructed... to breed dogs..."
"...that is to say...?"
"It's about a secret contract concluded during the... epoch of the former Queen... it was right after the war at the peninsula in the last century. It has been already more than sixty years ago..."
Late at night. Huey and Dalian were guided to an annex of the mansion.
The building was made of old limestone and made one feel the history of the Hurston family. This dark gray building seemed to be the current residence of the present head Boyd.
"Ah, you've come..."
Boyd saw Dalian arriving and muttered so contentedly.
Other than he, only the brothers Chez and Roy were in the old man's workroom. There were no butlers, nor were there any servants.
"Thank you for waiting."
The black-dressed girl proclaimed calmly.
She was carrying an old book under her arm.
But it was not one of the books she freely took out from the mansion. A leather cover that had grown stale. The binding was splendidly decorated with gold. And then the crest engraved into the book. 'The Pedigree of All Creation' - this was its title.
"Ooh... this is exactly... like then..."
The old man reached out his bony hands but then desisted from doing so and stopped his movements.
Phantom Books grant their readers access to forbidden knowledge. But if someone is possessing one of them for a too long a time, it will bring various distortions to this world. This tendency is even more severe when someone other than the proper owner is taking it into the hands. He knows about this. The old man is not the owner of the Phantom Book any more.
"Grandfather... the inheritance of the status of the present head is all well and good, but wouldn't it be better to call a public notary? And why on earth in such a room...?"
Roy spoke in a lightly irritated voice. He was probably unpleased about not knowing his grandfather's real intention.
However, the old man ignored Roy's question,
"May you open this door, Sir Disward?"
Huey grabbed for the knob of the door inside the workroom as commanded.
The thick metallic door opened with a creaking sound. Beyond was a stairway leading to the underground.
"What is this...?!"
One could hear Roy's gasp. Also Chez was opening his eyes wide.
The stairs didn't reach so wide. The room wasn't completely underground, but rather was like a secret chamber of which one half was buried in the ground. Compared to the other rooms of the mansion, this one was about half of their size.
On one side of the windowless room, unfamiliar chemicals were tidily lined up.
The room was filled with countless experimenting utensils like test tubes and microscopes. It looked more like the laboratory of a hospital or university, than the workroom of a gentry family.
Roy groaned when he looked around in the room while walking down the stairs with an oil lamp in his hand.
"I never would have guessed that there's such an establishment under the annex... what is all this, Grandfather?"
"A room built using the knowledge granted by the 'The Pedigree of All Creation'... it's a room for forbidden secret ceremonies."
Boyd Hurston answered with a faint smile.
Chez was the one carrying the old man. He lifted his grandfather up together with the wheelchair and walked down the stairs carefully. He was stronger than he looked with his slender body.
"Nostalgic...isn't it...? Roy, Chez..."
The old man said so, cryptically. The two brothers looked at each other sceptically.
"It's the place you two were brought forth!"
"The place we were brought forth...? What do you mean, grandfather?"
Roy glared offended at the old man.
The old man cackled,
"Our family is in contact with the Royal Family through their dog kennel... you know that, right...?"
"Yes, of course. This is because the dogs raised by us are exceptional."
Roy puffed up with pride. "Mhm", the old man nodded.
"We weren't only instructed... to breed dogs..."
"...that is to say...?"
"It's about a secret contract concluded during the... epoch of the former Queen... it was right after the war at the peninsula in the last century. It has been already more than sixty years ago..."
The long monologue of the old man ended. Then,
"Wonderful...!"
Roy extended his arms and looked up to the ceiling. His whole body was shivering in deep emotion.
"So this is I, Roy Hurston! An improved new kind of human, born as a superior species...!"
However, the old man interrupted him with his hoarse voice.
"Oh no... Roy... it's not you."
Roy was still looking up to the ceiling, but a puzzled expression spread over his face.
"...what?"
"You didn't inherit... the new characteristic... I seeked for..."
Upon the cold words of his grandfather, Roy's appearance became nervous.
"What are you saying... Grandfather?! Aren't these superior abilities of mine the proof of a new kind of human?"
Roy drew nervously closer, but the old man didn't even think of answering him any more.
"The one appropriate for being the head of the Hurston family... my successor... is you... Chez."
The old man turned around. The face of the usually timidly smiling young man who pushed the wheelchair stiffened.
Roy was beside himself and pointed at his younger brother,
"How absurd... Grandfather, are you telling me I am inferior to someone like Chez?! There's no way such an absurd thing could be!"
"You're... merely a common human who's a bit clever. You aren't something along the lines of a new kind of human."
The old man spoke mercilessly.
"Roy... you're just a failed product."
Roy was dazed and stood stock still there.
"Failed work... I am... just a failed product...?!"
Roy muttered the harsh words of his grandfather and went on retreating to the wall.
Underway, his leg got caught in a rack, he fell down, got buried in test tubes and bottles of chemicals, and finally sank down to the floor. After he gazed, dumbfounded, at the old man, he started to weep.
The fact that the brother he once looked down upon, snatched away the status as head of the family, knocked him down to such an extent.
Chez averted his gaze from his brother and glared rebukingly at the old man instead.
"Please wait, Grandfather. There's no way I'm suitable for the..."
"Don't play dumb... it's futile, Chez... I know you better... than anyone other. The characteristic of the new mankind I was seeking for by crossbreeding is the ability you're trying to hide so desperately..."
Chez' back quaked heavily. Hugging his own shoulder in fright, he stepped one step back. The old man reached out his hand as if to tempt him,
"Well then, Chez... now accept the Phantom Book... and then spread your kindred over the entire country! This is your role. It's an honour granted to you by us, the Hurston family!"
"No..."
Chez interrupted his excited grandfather in a timid voice.
"Chez?"
The old man opened his mouth, surprised.
"I do not desire such things like a Phantom Book or forbidden knowledge... this is just playing with life and death!"
"What...? What are you saying, Chez? You, the one and only success..."
"Success and failure in existence...? You don't have the right to decide over that. And even more so, you don't have the right to forsake a failed work like trash."
Chez ground his teeth.
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