Arslan entered the dormitory. The previous evening he had evacuated Evan from there. The girls had managed to do something that, according to current psychology, was impossible.
They had pulled someone back from the edge of the abyss who was already in the fourth phase of meat erosion and actively seeking to be eaten. According to Dr. Florentine's words, this was the first such case in history.
That was a good beginning, but it did not solve the problem. There was a great deal of work ahead of Evan, and success was not certain. The threat, however, was very real.
He decided to first talk about the current situation with the girls.
When he crossed the threshold, he instinctively furrowed his brows. The living room presented a picture of total devastation.
The tablecloth was covered in sauce stains and thrown somewhere into a corner. Plates and bowls lay scattered across the floor next to empty wine bottles.
Two chairs were overturned. A candlestick rolled across the floor.
Callisa lay on the kitchen island with her cheek stuck in sauce. Frida was draped over an armchair like a dirty shirt. Right next to her hand lay an empty bottle. Aiko was under the table, clutching a bowl that had held potatoes. Morona leaned against the sofa, her antennae hanging limply.
Normally he would have thought it was just an ordinary student party, but he knew the background of this particular case too well not to figure out exactly what had happened here.
After he had taken Evan away, the girls had lost control. They had started eating the sides dipped in the sauce. Apparently after a few bites they had lost control completely and the tasting had turned into a frenzied devouring combined with heavy drinking.
He sighed.
Just then the girls began to wake up. They groaned and moaned from a massive hangover.
"Director… my head…"
Callisa tried to get up, but it came with difficulty.
"Evan…" She looked around in panic. "Did we…?"
"No. Evan is with me."
The vixen exhaled in relief.
"I still need to have a serious talk with you, however."
Callisa swallowed hard with fear. She felt herself trembling.
Evan was waking up. Memories were returning to him. He felt awful and was angry with himself… for many reasons.
He had laid himself on the plate for the girls, and they had almost eaten him. If not for Morona, he would already be in the stomachs of his girlfriends. She had reminded him of what he had wanted before he arrived in Carnivory.
He had wanted to be a cook.
That had allowed him to get off the plate, but it gave him no peace. Some part of his mind complained that such a good date had been interrupted. Another screamed that he had hurt the girls. A third said he would have hurt them even more if he had forced them to live with the knowledge that they were the ones who had eaten him. A fourth spoke of improvement and living with the girls.
His head resembled a huge blender in which all these thoughts constantly clashed.
He tried to open his mouth, but could not. There was a gag in his mouth. He tried to move his hands. They were bound. Same with his legs. He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a kitchen counter in some unknown kitchen. He howled into the gag.
"All right, time to begin."
He heard the director's voice. He turned. The director stood there in a chef's coat. With him were two lioness girls.
"The guest list is set. He will be pleased."
Evan looked around. He saw a spit over glowing embers and preheated ovens. On the tables stood bottles of oil and spices.
"Yes, these are all the people he liked. It's a shame to lose such a good one, but it has already reached the point of no return. Now the only thing left is to show him the greatest possible respect."
As Evan looked at all of this, waves of arousal and fear flooded his mind. Did the director want to cook him?
Arslan looked at the card.
"Yes, this will be a good farewell."
"You're right, Master. It's a shame we won't be roasting him whole."
Whole?! Did Dyro really want to roast him?!
"I have decided that the head will be preserved as a memorial. Thanks to him the council learned a great deal. The rest we will serve in several ways."
He set the paper aside and looked at Evan with sadness, almost apologetically.
"There's no point in prolonging this. Take him to the block."
Both lionesses lifted Evan and laid him on a massive chopping block. A moment later Arslan approached him. In his hand he held a large cleaver. Instantly Evan felt the director's large hand press him against the wood.
"I'm sorry, Evan. This will only take a moment."
Arslan began to raise his arm.
It was true!
This time he was really going to die and be eaten!
Part of him was proud. He would be cooked by a recognized master chef. Then he jerked. He was going to die! The girls would cry for him. He thought of all the moments they could have spent together and what he could have cooked.
He tried to struggle free, but the grip was too strong.
The cleaver began its downward path.
He closed his eyes.
The cleaver struck… the wood a few centimeters from his face.
With wide-open eyes he stared at his own reflection.
"I'm sorry, Evan, but I had to do that."
Evan looked at him accusingly. Arslan's assistants sat Evan on the stump. The director looked into his eyes.
"I had to check whether there is still a will to live in you, or whether the meat erosion has already destroyed everything. I'll be honest. You're in bad shape."
The boy murmured into the gag.
"However, you can still be helped. We need to have a serious talk."
He removed the gag. Evan coughed several times.
"The girls told me everything. Do you want to become a cook?"
"Yes." He tried to say it as firmly as possible.
"I can become your master."
Evan smiled. Arslan furrowed his brows.
"I'll be honest. This may help you, but it is not some magical cure. Putting on a chef's coat will not make your problem suddenly disappear. It will place new problems in front of you."
Evan put on a surprised expression. Arslan held up a finger.
"First. As I already told you, the environment of professional chefs is a strongly elitist community. If you want to enter it, you must pass a test before the judges."
Evan nodded. Arslan held up a second finger.
"Second and most important. It will not separate you from meat. On the contrary. Until now you were in the roasting pan. Now you must stand over the roasting pan."
Evan froze for a moment.
"I see you understand. That's good."
Evan looked into his eyes.
"No. There is no other way. As a cook you will have constant contact with meat. You will receive living ingredients arriving at the restaurant, slaughter them and cook them. Even cooks who prepare food for herbivores are required to do something like that. You won't face that on the test, but within a few weeks you will."
Evan swallowed. Arslan held up a third finger.
"Third. I already told you about this, but after the apprenticeship period and training you will face an exam before the chefs' council. Do you remember what I told you then?"
Evan's eyes widened. He remembered.
"You will have to take care of a meat orphan for two weeks, and then cook it and serve it to the jury."
"I think you understand what I want to say. But that's not the end. You can be my student, but I also want something."
Evan listened intently.
"I will take you under my patronage. That should ensure your safety."
Evan nodded. He remembered how the girls had caught Shawn. They had been ready to cook him, but the collar had completely stopped their impulses.
"We also have to look the most dangerous thing in the eye. Evan, if you manage to become a cook, will you be able to stay above the surface?"
He thought and slowly turned his head. Being a cook was practically the only thing that now separated him from returning to the plate. Even now that option was appearing in his head.
"No," he muttered.
"I think so too."
He looked at him with a terrifying and completely serious gaze.
"Evan, I want you to think carefully about whether you even want to enter this path. You must be aware that you will be killing. If you don't feel up to it or can't handle it… then you will return to the plate and I will be the one who cooks you."
Evan looked at the director.
"This isn't about hunger or ambition, but about respect. I will do it so that you leave peacefully, and I will invite your girls and those you indicate."
"I understand."
He lowered his head. Arslan stood up.
"You have until tomorrow morning to make your decision. You are not returning to the dormitory today. You will spend the night at my place."
Evan had initially expected an ordinary room, but he was given something that looked like a prison cell. A bed with a thin mattress, a sink and a toilet.
"This is the pantry for living ingredients. I would like you to spend the night here."
"I understand."
Evan went inside and lay down on the bed. The door closed behind him. He spent the entire time thinking. When he fell asleep, he slept lightly and restlessly.