The people of the Central Plains are quite famous for their love of duck.
Isn’t it the same in reality?
Since the Chinese side has quite developed duck dishes.
Actually, even from my perspective, among the meat dishes of the Central Plains, duck was the best.
Pork, beef, or chicken all fell far short when compared to modern-day quality.
The meat itself was different.
I wonder if it was a breed issue or because only old hens were caught, but even the most common chicken meat was incredibly dry and tough.
The only meat in China that I remember feeling somewhat similar to modern meats was duck.
Unlike the Central Plains where ducks are favored, in the Divine River region where the New Religion is established, lamb is held in the highest regard.
As the New Religion is an especially wealthy region, they have everything, but their position was clear: lamb was superior.
Next came pork.
The New Religion’s pork was at a fairly edible level, unlike the pork from the Central Plains.
Thus, while the New Religion doesn’t treat ducks with much regard, there was a woman who called out for duck amidst everyone else praising lamb—this was none other than the Heavenly Demon.
Our Heavenly Demon, who looked entirely like a foreigner, loved duck even more than the people of the Central Plains.
Shotgun Mom, the head chef of Flame, is a veteran with expertise in meat dishes.
Be it pork, beef, or chicken, anything she cooks becomes an instant hit—an all-around meat specialist.
How could I possibly turn to cultivating soft-bodied martial arts for dieting?
There’s a reason behind everything.
Throughout this time, I’ve never seen Heavenly Yoo-a smile so brightly while sharing meals with Shotgun Mom.
Yoo-a is someone who remained unfazed even in front of divine foods like the famous braised pork belly, yet she reacted so intensely to merely a slightly greasy roasted chickpea snack.
Her extreme preference for ducks leaves me sighing without end.
“Wouldn’t this dish pair perfectly with a glass of wine?”
“…Wine? Do you like wine?”
“Yes, I only drink wine.”
“Ah, really? What kind do you primarily…?”
“Hmm, Château Latour?”
“Is that a Bordeaux wine by any chance?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Damn. Even her wine preference aligns.
As the strategic point between the East and the West, the Divine River region—home to the New Religion—is a place abundant in Western culture.
Even Western wines flowed into the New Religion territory in considerable quantities.
Our Heavenly Demon, who didn’t enjoy any of the alcohol from the Central Plains, only indulged in this wine.
In particular, our lady favored the wine produced from the Bourgogne region of the Fleuria Empire, which equates to the Bordeaux region of this world.
There was an attempt to make wine locally in the Divine River region since grapes grew there, but she gave up, stating it wasn’t the flavor she desired.
Since then, our trade with the Fleuria Empire has continued indefinitely.
If that connection breaks, there would be no way to acquire the wine that satisfies her tastes.
Yet, it turns out that Heavenly Yoo-a also enjoys wine, especially the Bordeaux variety, making my chest tight.
Could this really be a coincidence?
Of course, most women do like wine.
It’s hard to pinpoint what exactly draws someone to French cuisine, but generally, they favor it.
However, when so many coincidences stack up, it’s hard to believe it’s all chance.
Certainly, up until now, I’ve been fine with the situation.
But the most absurd part is that ever since Heavenly Yoo-a arrived, the movements of the people at the company have become strangely altered.
Even today’s incident is a case in point.
Our Shotgun Mom, in a rare move, served a special meal exclusively for Heavenly Yoo-a.
Even though Heavenly Yoo-a is the company’s main star, it’s still odd to prepare special meals just for her.
Shotgun Mom, whose life motto is “just eat what’s given,” actually prepared a perfect special meal?
How does she know her eating habits so well as to prepare such a precisely suitable special treat?
And then there are the guards.
Until Heavenly Yoo-a arrived, our guard friends were acting quite casually.
Especially at the pool—it was quite a spectacle.
One female guard, with an open personality, even took off her top and enjoyed swimming.
What kind of organization allows this, but the male guards, who seemed quite accustomed to such antics, simply clicked their tongues as if they saw something they shouldn’t have, without seriously stopping her.
Thanks to this, I had my share of eye candy.
Slavic female guard Selly, despite her sharp-angled face, had an absolutely fantastic figure.
I confirmed this firsthand during my own swim. Wow.
It was then that I realized how different races really do make a difference.
When she even gave me a wink, I half wondered if it was a green light.
In reality, it was somewhat understandable since the guards stationed here were mostly skilled individuals from elite special forces across various countries.
Surprisingly, even Selly, who looked like someone who’d strip off her top, was involved in relevant professions.
With only thirty of them in this relatively small building (by their standards) and deployed to Korea where firearms can’t even be used, there wasn’t much actual work for them here.
Frankly, about the only thing they have to do is stop stalkers from invading the company, and for that, they were far too high-level.
However, something peculiar happened after Heavenly Yoo-a moved into the company.
Always lurking around Heavenly Yoo-a were a few guards.
Even when I was rehearsing lines with her, their presence could be felt.
Especially during my early morning exercise sessions, this became quite intense, and they occasionally sent warnings my way.
It was as if they were telling me to back off immediately, but since I also had a purpose, I ignored them steadfastly.
What is all this about?
There’s definitely something going on.
“Hey, buddy. Let’s have a chat.”
“Huh? Me?”
“Yes. Could you come with me for a moment?”
Just as my thoughts were growing deeper, the guards came looking for me.
Rick, a blonde middle-aged man who acted as the leader of the guards, was at the front, with other guards following.
Though it was confusing, I followed out of curiosity to hear what they had to say.
“We’d like you to adjust your early morning exercise schedule.”
“Morning? Why?”
“Well, how should I say this… It’s a bit of a delicate situation for us. If you could just avoid that time, it would help a lot. Is that a problem?”
Rick was the man who guided me around when I first visited.
He’s silent and emanates charisma, and all the guards seemed to genuinely follow him, so I’ve maintained a decent relationship with him.
We’ve even gotten comfortable chatting.
This Rick now asked me to change my early morning exercise session.
It seems their hints are finally turning into concrete actions.
“Is this because of Yoo-a?”
“Well…regrettably, yes. We have our own situation to consider.”
Of course. That’s right.
Heavenly Yoo-a’s morning exercises attire isn’t exactly conducive to a quiet atmosphere.
There’s minimal exposure, but that made it even more awkward.
If the guards are tasked with protecting her at such proximity, my lingering presence during her workouts must’ve been irritating to them constantly.
“That seems like something I should say. I also have my own concerns, so I don’t think I can accommodate this for now.”
As much as I’d like to help Rick by following his request, I still have things to observe, so changing the schedule isn’t feasible right now.
Of course, it’s not for the sake of appreciating Heavenly Yoo-a’s figure, which is itself a form of art.
While I don’t dislike the sight of it, there’s currently something more important.
Fact is, I’ve been comparing the fluid body movement arts that Heavenly Yoo-a practices to what I’ve learned.
Since she only repeats one out of the four fluid movement arts, I needed to confirm the others.
Also, I needed some time to gauge where she learned it and how proficient she is, so changing the schedule wouldn’t be ideal.
“Huh, is that so? That’s troubling.”
With my response, Rick shook his head, looking troubled.
Rick seems like someone with good judgment, so he doesn’t seem inclined to pressure me.
Still, when a group gathers, there will always be a few troublemakers.
A black man among those behind Rick complained loudly.
“Captain, why waste time on such trivial matters? Hey dumb monkey, stop arguing and just do as you’re told. Asking you to have the gym free for two hours in the early morning isn’t too much, right? Honestly, we’ve been quite patient.”
“Heh~ this is getting interesting, God-damn nigga. What are you gonna do if I don’t comply?”
“Holy crap, this little bastard.”
These kinds of guys never get it.
My head already hurts because of all the things I’ve been worrying about lately, but looks like I need to teach this guy a lesson.
Watching these men’s antics, I vaguely remembered something nostalgic from the past: the habitual nude training sessions of the Heavenly Demon and the old memories of guarding the training room felt a bit touching, but that guy’s “dumb monkey” comment crossed the line a bit.
It’s true, they can be like this.
Judging from the general atmosphere, it seems they don’t even have the concept of racial discrimination. However, they naturally absorb manners when they’re disciplined.
The black guard, who’s all worked up, and the others trying to calm him down.
I offered them a suggestion they wouldn’t enjoy.
“Talking like this all day won’t get us anywhere. Hey, let’s step into the ring. If you win, I’ll leave the gym available in the morning. And if I win, you’ll answer one of my questions.”
“Stop calling me nigga, you little bastard.”
“Nigga? No, it’s ‘you,’ you bastard. Hmph. So, are you in or not?”
The black guard looks to Rick for approval.
After thinking for a moment, Rick slowly nodded.
Though letting a member of the talent spar is certainly troublesome, it seems that excluding me from Heavenly Yoo-a’s morning exercises outweighs the risk for him.
After all, if you’re a guard, that judgment is correct.
What happens afterward can be dealt with later.
“Hey, you keep looking for monkeys when…”
“Gah.”
“Am I…”
“Choke!”
“Good? Bad?”
“C-ough…”
“Recently, whenever I see something black, I get hives. Let’s keep it light, alright?”
“…”
“Also, remember there’s an Eastern guard in your team too. Let’s think before we act.”
The black guard, who boasts quite agile movements worthy of the Special Forces and M, fell to me too easily.
After evading his relentless kicks, I massaged parts that wouldn’t visibly hurt too much, mainly his ribs and stomach.
I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and letting this out feels like a great release.
“Alright, Rick. Can I exercise my right as the victor now?”
“Hmm… Alright. What do you want to know?”
Even though he had his subordinate fight in a risky situation, the situation has turned strangely against him, leaving Rick looking uneasy.
But it seems he’s willing to honor his word. Since I don’t intend to ask something too sensitive that would make Rick uncomfortable, I started with the basics.
Though I don’t intend to ask Rick anything too challenging and make things difficult for him.
“Did the guards know about Yoo-a beforehand?”
“…Yes.”
“Then, what about the chef from the restaurant, the Kitchen Master?”
“…Yes. I think I’ve answered all I can.”
“Understood, thank you.”
“And apologize to that guy from earlier, alright. Though…”
“That’s fine. I insulted him too.”
Yeah, whether it’s monkey or nigga, it doesn’t matter right now.
The guards have known Heavenly Yoo-a for a long time.
Meaning that she isn’t just a typical star of our company.
