Chapter 10: Enemies Bound to Meet

Azure Tide is a mid-to-high-end restaurant specializing in seafood cuisine. From its exterior to its interior décor and even the way food is handled, the establishment is imbued with the unique artistic flavor characteristic of Cervantes City. The façade of Azure Tide resembles a giant deep-sea whale, its tail raised and head lifted as if leaping from the ocean. The pale blue walls evoke both sky and sea, conjuring a sense of vastness that makes the building stand out amid the diverse architectural styles surrounding it, irresistibly drawing the eye.

Stepping inside Azure Tide is like entering an aquarium. Tanks for cultivating sea life are embedded in the walls, ceiling, and floor. Standing in the center of the restaurant, one can clearly see all manner of fish and sea creatures idly swimming within arm’s reach, giving diners the illusion of being immersed in the ocean itself.

Teresa was smitten with the restaurant’s unique charm at first glance. Her small head turned this way and that, eyes sparkling like finest emeralds—bright and transparent as top-grade green gemstones. Seeing her fascination, Pedia smiled gently and said, “Tess, let’s eat first. Afterwards, you can look around as long as you like.” Reluctantly, Teresa withdrew her gaze and joined the three others in a secluded corner. They placed their order, and while waiting for the food, Teresa’s attention was once again drawn to the blue, luminous walls. Propping her chin in her hands, she gazed at the fishes swimming freely behind the transparent panels, lost in a quiet reverie. Pedia and the others exchanged smiles, refraining from disturbing her, and pulled out the unresolved clue slips to discuss their next treasure hunt.

Though it was mealtime, the restaurant was nearly empty and remarkably quiet. Today was Autumn Festival—the Carnival, and the peak of social activities. Most of Azure Tide’s clientele were preoccupied with various social events, leaving the dining space unusually tranquil. In such a peaceful atmosphere, even the slightest commotion stood out—

“…We arrived first… Why…”
“…Sorry… Order change… Limited quota…”
“…Signing… I don’t care…”

The fragments of argument grew from faint to loud, from distant to near, until they became impossible for any diner to ignore. Following the sound, everyone saw that the commotion originated from the entrance to the kitchen. As the voices neared, two people emerged, pushing and shoving—no, it was more accurate to say one person was shoving the other. The one being pushed wore the Azure Tide staff uniform, clearly a restaurant employee, while the one doing the shoving was a well-dressed young man.

“I’m truly sorry, sir. Since you changed your order last minute, by regulation your meal must be served after the guests at Table One. This special grilled eel is the last quota of its kind right now. If you insist on ordering it, you’ll have to wait another hour,” the waiter said, protecting the tray in his hands while trying to reason with the persistent youth.

The young man, however, frowned in displeasure, adamant: “Clearly we arrived first and placed our order earlier. How can your kitchen be so disorganized? Are you looking down on me? Hurry up and bring the grilled eel to us. Otherwise, if Joans loses his temper and smashes the place, you’ll have more trouble than you bargained for!”

“Sir, I truly apologize,” replied the waiter, remaining calm despite the difficult customer. “Azure Tide has its own rules. Among the current orders for this dish, your box’s final order time was two minutes later than theirs. If we served you first, that would truly violate our policies.”

Seeing the waiter unmoved after repeated arguments, the young man’s temper flared. He stretched out a hand to snatch the tray, but before he could act, a lazy voice sounded behind him, halting his movement—

“Tattoo, what a show of force—trying to snatch a plate from a waiter just for a meal. When did you evolve into a starving ghost? Why didn’t you inform us so we could throw a celebration in your honor?”

That familiar, maddening voice nearly made Tattoo grind his teeth to dust. He instantly went into battle mode, body tense as he turned to see Achille leaning against a vacant table, wearing his trademark sunny smile—provocative as ever.

“So it’s you, Aubrion’s little sidekick. What, you can eat seafood now? Careful it doesn’t upset your stomach, kid—you’d do better to scurry home and drink milk!” Tattoo retorted without missing a beat. Clearly, this was not their first verbal skirmish.

With Tattoo distracted, the clever waiter swiftly carried the tray away, delivering the disputed grilled eel to Teresa’s table. This only provoked Tattoo further; he narrowed his eyes, coldly watching Pedia, the others, and Achille, his gaze unfriendly. Achille, meanwhile, only smiled more brightly.

At Pedia’s invitation, Teresa picked up her fork and took the first bite, savoring the delicious seafood while keeping her eyes peeled on Achille’s confrontation.

“Big brother, who is that? Seems he doesn’t get along with Achille.”

Pedia was peeling a prawn and replied without looking up, “An old rival. Don’t worry, it’s just a war of words—they won’t fight.”

“Oh~” Teresa answered lengthily, stuffing her mouth with fragrant grilled eel, relishing the controversial delicacy.

Good food brings joy. Once the flavor lingered on her lips, Teresa squinted with delight and cheerfully asked, “Big brother, how many rivals do you have? We’ve run into three today alone. Is your life always full of such disputes?”

No sooner had she spoken than Pedia tapped her lightly in admonishment, explaining, “Tattoo is Joans’ right hand. It’s all just bravado, nothing as combative as you imagine. Focus on your meal.”

Teresa rolled her eyes and pouted, shaking her head before returning to her food under Ives’s teasing gaze. She hadn’t eaten for long before four or five youths poured out from the box entrance—fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years old. Teresa stole a glance and saw that Joans, now out of his martial gear and dressed as a noble, cut a striking, somewhat androgynous figure.

At Joans’s appearance, Pedia and Ives rose immediately. Teresa looked up at Pedia, but his gesture told her to keep eating—he wanted her to stay out of it. Knowing she would only be a hindrance if she followed, Teresa sat quietly, dining while observing the undercurrents among the youths.

“Pedia, Ives, it’s been a while,” Joans greeted them with a flawless smile.

Pedia merely nodded coolly, Ives responded with his characteristic warmth, and Achille slipped back to Teresa’s side, settling down to eat.

“Hey, Achille, aren’t you lacking in brotherly love? You just ran back here and left them to deal with that?” Teresa prodded Achille’s arm with her fork, a gesture that lacked ladylike decorum but was friendly and playful.

“They’ve never thought much of me, the ‘little sidekick.’ Why bother joining the crowd? I’m hungry!” Achille’s words carried a mix of emotions—discontent at being overlooked, a hint of schadenfreude. It was hard to pin down his true feelings.

Teresa chewed thoughtfully, watching Achille, uncertain of his attitude.

At their table, the two youngsters ate quietly, while Pedia and Ives, now half-sated, engaged in verbal sparring with Joans. Old rivals all, their conversation was subdued, lacking the fiery tension of Achille and Tattoo’s earlier confrontation—

“Tattoo is usually efficient. So long without news—it turns out he ran into ‘old friends.’” As he spoke, Joans glanced at each of the group, his smile flawless.

“Friends is too strong a word,” Pedia replied calmly. “At most, old classmates.”

“Old classmates, old friends—it’s all the same,” Joans replied, his expression unreadable. “Four years together, and our tastes have grown more alike. I wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.”

“Good things are universally admired—it’s human nature.” Pedia kept silent, but Ives picked up the thread, his social smile as gentle as a spring breeze. Joans’s smile, by contrast, always carried a chill—a testament to the mysterious power of temperament.

“Sadly, good things are always limited—and naturally belong to the capable!” His words rang out, powerful and layered with meaning, casting a strange silence over the restaurant.

As the tension mounted, a stout, slightly overweight middle-aged man approached with steady steps, grinning as he inserted himself between the two factions. He bowed to all, then apologized to Joans: “Mr. Hack, I’m terribly sorry. The kitchen’s delay has held up your meal. The beef-grilled eel you ordered is now ready in the kitchen. To make amends, the chef has prepared several specialties for your tasting—I hope you’ll enjoy them.” This was the manager of Azure Tide—a businessman who, in Cervantes City, was not without influence. With his intervention, neither Joans nor Pedia would continue to escalate the tension in the restaurant, and the conflict quietly subsided.