Chapter 181: Welcome Dinner

"Glad to have you with us," John said, offering a faint smile. He stood up from the chair and stretched his arms. "Now that the heavy talk is out of the way, you guys look like you haven’t eaten a decent meal in months. Hospital nutrient drips can only do so much."

Kenji’s eyes lit up instantly. "Wait, food? Real food? Not those bland protein shakes the nurse gave me?"

"Real food," John laughed. "Get cleaned up and change into some fresh clothes. Richter, have the medical staff sign off on their short leave for the private mess hall."

"Already handled, Commander," Richter said with a crisp nod.

An hour later, the sun had dipped low over the skyline of Smith.

The evening glow flooded through the panoramic glass windows of the senior staff dining lounge, located on the top floor of the naval administration complex. Out on the paved avenues below, civilian cars and military utility vehicles cruised under bright halogen streetlights. Neon signs flickered across high-rise storefronts. It felt alive, modern, and completely disconnected from the muddy feudal battlefields of the continent.

Ayanokoji and Miyuki walked into the private room wearing soft gray cotton hoodies and sweatpants provided by the quartermaster. Kenji followed right beside them, moving surprisingly well on a pair of lightweight aluminum crutches with his fiberglass cast swinging over the polished tiles. Rin walked alongside them, humming a small tune as she pulled out chairs.

"Take a seat anywhere," John said, already seated comfortably at the head of the long polished oak table.

He was dressed in a casual black crewneck and cargo trousers, looking entirely like the teenager he was rather than the Supreme Commander of an entire modern military force. Beside the buffet counter, a full team of Navy culinary specialists and civilian base contractors stood by in crisp white chef coats, ready to serve.

"Are we having a banquet?" Miyuki asked, blinking in surprise as she took a seat. "I thought you’d just give us whatever the base cafeteria had."

"The mess personnel insisted on putting together something special once they heard we had three recovering guests from Earth," John replied with a grin. "You three have spent nearly a year chewing on this world’s food. I think a food from our home might hit different and gets you to recover fast."

The kitchen staff stepped forward, lifting polished silver cloches from multiple large platters.

A warm, dense cloud of steam burst into the air, instantly filling the room with an incredible wave of contrasting, mouthwatering aromas.

The three Japanese teenagers froze in place.

"No way..." Kenji whispered, his jaw dropping so low it almost touched the tablecloth. "Are you kidding me?!"

Miyuki clasped both hands over her mouth, her eyes instantly watering. "This is..."

Even Ayanokoji’s stoic, unreadable face broke. His eyes widened, his chest rising and falling as he stared at the table in complete, stunned silence.

Spread out across the table was a massive, combined feast—an authentic Japanese full-course spread placed right alongside a full-blown American fast-food and comfort-food spread.

On the Japanese side sat individual ceramic bowls of glistening, steaming white short-grain rice, topped with a light sprinkle of roasted black sesame seeds. Beside them were bowls of deep amber miso soup filled with cubes of silken tofu, rehydrated wakame seaweed, and freshly chopped green onions.

In the center sat a long platter of freshly grilled salmon teriyaki, its skin charred crisp and glazed with a thick, sweet-savory mirin reduction. Next to it was a mountain of chicken karaage—golden-brown, bite-sized fried chicken thighs that smelled heavily of ginger, soy sauce, and garlic, served with lemon wedges and a generous swirl of Kewpie mayonnaise. Rounding out the Japanese courses were small side bowls of sweet rolled tamagoyaki, chilled sesame spinach, and crunchy yellow pickled daikon.

And right next to it was the unmistakable, glorious taste of America.

In the middle of the table sat towering red-and-orange boxes of Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen fried chicken. Golden, craggy, ultra-crispy bone-in chicken thighs and spicy tenders sat piled high, venting the sharp, peppery aroma of Cajun spices. Beside them were mountains of piping hot Cajun fries dusted in red seasoning, tubs of rich mashed potatoes smothered in savory spiced gravy, warm and buttery Popeyes buttermilk biscuits that flaked at the touch, and containers of sweet honey and blackened ranch dipping sauce. To finish the spread, there were two dozen Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts sitting in open boxes, their sugar coatings glistening under the warm chandeliers.

"It’s similar to the ones you fed me and Miyuki," Ayanokoji commented. "We are in an entirely different world. The Japanese food... and Popeyes?! You have actual American fast food chains here?"

"The capital island has an entire functioning overseas military base and civilian infrastructure," John explained, leaning back and picking up a pair of wooden chopsticks. "So you can say that we bring America into this world."

John slid glasses of chilled iced green tea toward Miyuki and Ayanokoji, while popping the tabs on cold cans of Dr Pepper and Coca-Cola for Kenji and himself.

"Dig in," John smiled. "Consider it your welcome-to-the-team dinner."

Kenji didn’t wait another second. He abandoned his crutches against the table leg, slammed his hands together, and bowed his head low over his plate.

"Itadakimasu!" he shouted.

He reached straight for a massive piece of Popeyes spicy fried chicken, ripped off a huge bite, and crunched down.

CRUNCH.

The deafening, shattering crisp of the battered crust echoed in the room. Scalding, savory juice seasoned with cayenne pepper, garlic, and buttermilk flooded his mouth. Kenji closed his eyes, let out a muffled groan of absolute ecstasy, and immediately reached for a warm biscuit, stuffing half of it into his cheek.

Before he could even swallow, a tear leaked from his eye and rolled down his cheek, splashing onto his paper napkin.

"It’s... it’s so damn good..." Kenji sobbed around a massive mouthful of fried chicken and buttery biscuit. "It actually crunches! It’s spicy! It’s real food!"

Miyuki let out a soft laugh through her tears. She picked up her small ceramic bowl with both hands and took a gentle sip of the hot miso soup. The salty, rich dashi warmth spread through her chest.

"It’s delicious, John," Miyuki said, wiping her cheek with a napkin before picking up a piece of the sweet tamagoyaki. "Thank you. Truly. I never thought I’d taste real Japanese food again when we turned you down or saw American doughnuts."

"Try the Cajun fries too," Rin urged, smiling as she dipped a french fry into a tub of blackened ranch and popped it into her mouth.

Ayanokoji picked up a piece of the grilled salmon with his chopsticks. The fish was tender, savory, and flaky, melting smoothly against his tongue alongside the sweet glaze. He followed it with a spoonful of warm white rice.

For the first time since being summoned into this chaotic world, he didn’t feel like a weapon. He didn’t feel like a tool being evaluated for its lethal efficiency. He was just a high school kid sitting at a dinner table with people his own age, eating hot food under electric lights.

He swallowed, set his chopsticks down on the ceramic rest, and looked across the table at John.

"John," Ayanokoji spoke up, his tone serious but respectful.

John paused, putting down a chicken tender. "Yeah?"

"The other summoned heroes who retreated with Viona," Ayanokoji said, his dark eyes locked onto John’s. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Well, to have them defect on my side of course," John said.

"Viona’s armbands control them," Ayanokoji explained. "They can’t refuse an order."

"We won’t slaughter them," John cut in, his voice calm and firm. "We’re already preparing a psychological warfare package. Once we find out where Viona is, we are going to strike so hard she won’t be able to command your classmates."

Kenji swallowed a mouthful of biscuit, his eyes brightening. "I see, that’s good to hear."

"Take your time and heal up first," John said with a grin, gesturing toward the laden table. "We have plenty of food to finish tonight. Tomorrow, it’ll be us hunting Viona again."