After the two were seated, a waiter promptly arrived to take their order.
Since Megumi Kato wasn't familiar with abroad related cuisine, the task of choosing dishes naturally fell to Shiro Sakamaki.
He glanced over the menu with a faint smirk. The variety was impressive, though he wondered how skilled the kitchen really was.
"Let's go with Nine-Turn Large Intestine, Sea Cucumber with Scallion, Double-Crispy Pork, Eight-Treasure Duck in Gourd, Stir-Fried Wings, and... Chestnut Chicken Soup to start."
The waiter quickly jotted everything down and retreated.
"Shiro-kun really does love food. Every time I'm with you, I end up trying all sorts of dishes."
"Naturally," Shiro grinned. "There are only two things in life you should never let down—beautiful women, and great food."
He added with a playful look,
"Though... let's just forget about that raw meat sashimi from last time."
Megumi laughed softly, covering her mouth.
"I thought you were the type who never turns down a challenge."
"Usually true. But raw red meat sashimi's where I draw the line. I'm used to raw foods—sure—but our styles are pretty different."
He shrugged. He could handle drunken shrimp or blood clams—but raw beef? That was pushing it.
Then Megumi asked—casually, but with just a hint of tension in her voice:
"So... what's Shiro-kun's standard for a beautiful woman?"
Though her expression stayed calm, Shiro's keen senses picked up the faint flutter in her heartbeat.
"Hmm... for example, someone like Kato-chan?"
Megumi blinked, surprised. Her face turned pink almost instantly, her usual composure slipping.
But despite her embarrassment, there was something sweet in her smile.
"I told you before," Shiro added sincerely.
"You're a wonderful girl, so stop thinking you're not enough."
For once, her voice carried confidence, and the smile on her face shone a little brighter.
The restaurant was bustling now—every table was filled, the sounds of conversation and clinking dishes filling the room.
The first dish to arrive was the chestnut chicken soup, carried over by a curvaceous young woman in a traditional cheongsam, her long purple hair pulled back neatly.
Shiro recognized her instantly: Miyoko Hojo, the chef's daughter.
The reason she delivered the soup personally was clear—she'd wanted to see who had ordered that rare combination of dishes.
Double-Crispy Pork, Sea Cucumber with Scallion, Nine-Turn Intestine—all were complicated, classic Shandong cuisine dishes. Not something casual diners usually ordered.
Their eyes met briefly, but neither spoke. Shiro calmly looked back at her as she turned and left.
He ladled out soup for Megumi and set it in front of her.
"Let's start with something warm. The others will take longer."
"Thank you," she replied, taking small sips.
After about half an hour, the main dishes began to arrive.
First came the Double-Crispy Pork. Shiro examined a slice of belly—well-cut. He took a bite.
It was decent... but lacking.
"They went too hard on the heat. The outer texture's right, but the flavor didn't lock in."
Next came the Nine-Turn Intestine, Roasted Sea Cucumber, and Eight-Treasure Duck. All were okay—technically correct, but missing heart. Missing finesse.
Shiro took a few bites of each, then stopped. His high standards for food weren't easily met.
Megumi, however, seemed to enjoy the dishes. Her appetite was better than usual—Shandong flavors were complex and layered, and she adjusted to them easily.
Still, the portions were large, and by the end, much of the food remained.
When Miyoko Hojo returned to clear the plates, she caught sight of the leftovers and paused, a frown forming as she watched Shiro walk away.
Out on the street, Megumi looked up at him.
"Shiro-kun didn't eat much. Are you feeling alright?"
"It's not that. Just didn't suit my taste."
"But you said earlier... 'never let down good food,' remember?"
"I stand by that. But 'good' is the keyword here. These were... fine. Just not what I expected."
He sighed lightly, still analyzing the seasoning and temperature in his head.
Megumi simply watched him, quietly amused. She liked this side of him—grumbling, opinionated, weirdly passionate about flavor.
They walked aimlessly through the streets, lit by soft neon and street lamps.
Suddenly, Shiro paused mid-step.
His expression darkened for just a moment—barely noticeable, but Megumi caught it.
"Ah, it's nothing," he said quickly, covering smoothly. "Just remembered something."
In truth, one of the detection marks he'd placed in the city had just been triggered.
Something had passed through.
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