My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

It didn't even rush. The mimic simply continued working, and chatting with people who leaned in close enough to admire Balen's technique.

"Pepper? I hardly even know her," it said warmly, laughing.

Marron felt lucky because she had worked with Balen back in Meadowbrook. While the mimic copied his generous spirit and warm smile, there were some things it couldn't replicate. Like the determination Balen felt when he promised to protect Meadowbrook until Marron returned.

Or the quite hope he had when he told her, "If you do join the Culinary Guild, tell them I sent you!"

I'll make sure to tell Guildmaster Halloway you sent me, Balen. After all this is done.

"Time!"

The participants stepped back from their stations, hands raised. The crowd applauded, the sound echoing off the marble walls. Serving assistants hurried forward to transfer the finished dishes to the judges' table.

Marron's heart hammered as the mimic's plate was set before her. Up close, it was even more perfect. The fish glistened with a lacquer-like sheen. The vegetables formed a precise rainbow of colors. The sauce formed delicate swirls that could have been painted by an artist's brush.

"Magnificent presentation," Halloway said loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "Truly masterful."

The mimic beamed with borrowed pride, accepting the praise as its due.

Doesn't it think this is all too strange? It's like it has no idea what a real cooking contest would be like. Even Earth's cooking shows are more exciting than this.

Marron picked up her fork with steady hands. She could feel the weight of every eye in the hall, the expectation crackling through the air like electricity. This was the moment. Everything depended on what she tasted.

She cut a small piece of fish and vegetable, making sure to get some sauce with each bite. She lifted it to her mouth, aware that this single taste would determine whether they caught their monster or let it slip away into the night.

It tasted like a symphony played by robots. Salt, sugar, acid, and fat: every note was perfectly balanced. The fish was tender and the vegetables still had a hint of crispiness. Even the sauce went well with the food.

But it was completely soulless.

I cook following recipes, but even I have a story behind my dishes.

In her previous life, Marron tasted thousands of dishes. Streetfood made with love by overworked vendors. Overpriced cuisine made by egotistic chefs. Home cooking backed by generations of family tradition.

Every dish told a story about the person who made it—their background, their mood, their relationship with food and the people they were feeding.

This dish was just technique without purpose. It was beautiful and hollow, like a painted shell. And while it tasted just fine at first bite, the more Marron chewed, the more it tasted like sawdust.

She set down her fork and stood, her chair scraping against the marble floor with a sound like breaking glass.

"That's not him," she said, her voice carrying clearly through the sudden silence.

The crowd stirred in confusion. Murmurs rippled through the hall as people tried to understand what was happening. The mimic's face flickered—just for an instant—as if struggling to maintain its mask.

"What are you talking about?" it said in Balen's voice, but there was something sharp underneath the confusion. "Marron, are you feeling alright?"

Halloway didn't hesitate. His hand slammed down on the hidden trigger beneath the table, and the guild mages snapped their prepared wards into brutal life.

A circle of blue fire erupted around the mimic's feet, the flames reaching higher than a person's head. The mimic's borrowed face transformed from calm into shock and rage.

"My disguiiiiise was PERFECT! How could yooOOu hAaavE SeEeeEEn through mEEEEE?"

Its voice sounded like talons scraping against glass, and its features began to change. Balen's skin sloughed away like wax, and its teeth sharpened into needle points. Up close, Marron saw that the Mimic had no eyes--just empty holes.

Even if the entire guild had been in on it, people still scrambled and screamed. Chairs were overturned and dishes crashed to the floor. The mimic clawed at the burning wards, trying to escape.

"Bind it!" Halloway roared over the chaos.

The mages stepped forward, their hands waving in a complex pattern. Slowly, Marron saw pure light being formed into a cage, trapping the creature. It was like looking at a monster being shoved into a trap--its form bulged out from the bars between the magical cage.

The mimic seethed with rage and it shrieked like a wraith. Everyone in the hall flinched, even as it was safely contained.

Gradually, the creature's struggles weakened as the mages completed the binding.

Silence fell over the atrium like a heavy blanket, broken only by the quiet sobbing of someone in the crowd and the crackle of dying ward-flames.

Marron's legs nearly gave out beneath her. Lucy wrapped comforting tendrils around her wrist as the full weight of what they'd just accomplished settled over her. They'd done it. They'd caught the monster that had been walking among them, stealing their trust, planning who knew what terrible things.

Halloway rose from his chair, his face carved from stone. "Take it to the deep cells," he commanded the mages. "Triple the binding wards. We'll deal with it properly once the crowd is cleared."

As the mages dragged their prisoner away, Halloway turned to address the stunned onlookers. "The exhibition is concluded," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "Please exit in an orderly fashion. Guild security will escort you out."

But Marron barely heard him. She slumped back into her chair, Lucy's worried tendrils patting her face, and tried to process what had just happened.

For the first time, she truly understood what they'd been facing. It stole techniques and recipes, but even more than that: it stole trust.

After today, she would question every familiar face and gesture her fellow guild mates made.

And this was right after being accepted to the guild.

The mimic had nearly fooled them all.

At least the Balen I cooked with in Meadowbrook was real.

In Whetvale, his stolen face had walked among them. The mimic hoarded his recipes like a selfish dragon, and Marron didn't even know if Balen retained any memories of the dishes he made.

"You did well," Halloway said quietly, settling back into his chair as the last of the crowd filed out. "Your instincts saved us all."

She just nodded, not trusting her voice. Marron passed her first test as an official guild member.

But it felt like a hollow victory.

Because while Savoria was focused on food and fun, magic and monsters were also rampant.

She had to find a way to protect herself.

And that was a lesson she would never forget.