The restaurant was even more magnificent and grand up close.

Golden lanterns hung from carved marble pillars, filling the wide entrance with a soft, regal glow. Inside, the restaurant looked like something out of a noble's daydream—shimmering floors, crystal chandeliers, and servers dressed in dark velvet uniforms that moved with military precision.

Indeed, they looked like they'd gone through some sort of military training with how they moved.

Raiden stood at the door with his golden crown gleaming under the light, eyes wide in pure admiration. "Oh wow… this place smells like rich people dreams!"

Kent pinched the bridge of his nose. "Needni remind you that you are one of said "rich people"?"

"Exactly," Raiden said proudly. "So I fit right in."

Captain Baren gave the doorman a polite nod, announcing their name, and soon enough, they were ushered inside with graceful bows and welcoming smiles. The Goldheart family was a great bible family after all.

The host led them to a section by the window, where sunlight spilled across polished wood tables and fine silk curtains swayed gently in the morning breeze.

"Please enjoy your stay," the host said, bowing before leaving them with a thick, gold-rimmed menu.

Raiden immediately snatched it up like a sacred relic. "Look at this! They have so many things—oh, what's sous-vide? And what's herb-crusted phoenix breast? Is that real phoenix?"

Kent didn't even look up. "Just pick something."

Baren leaned back, glancing at the menu once. "I'll have whatever you're having," he said, nodding toward Kent.

"Good choice," Kent replied, already closing his menu with calm finality. It didn't take long for him to decide. He knew what he wanted unlike a certain little brother.

Raiden, however, stared at his like it contained ancient magic. He flipped back and forth between pages, eyes sparkling, muttering under his breath, "What's the difference between golden stew and gilded stew? Why do they have two? Shouldn't one be enough?"

The waiter returned, bowing slightly. "Sirs, have you decided?"

Kent gestured toward Raiden without looking up. "He hasn't."

"I just need a few more minutes," Raiden said.

The waiter nodded and left.

Ten minutes later, he returned. "Sir?"

Raiden blinked. "Still deciding."

Twenty minutes later. "Sir?"

Raiden scratched his head. "What exactly is dragon truffle sauce? It's not made from dragons, right?"

Kent groaned and waved the man away. "Go prepare our order. We'll deal with him later."

Fifteen minutes later, two elegant plates arrived—perfectly roasted meat glazed with amber sauce, paired with a side of buttered greens and golden bread rolls.

Kent and Baren began eating quietly, enjoying the rich aroma and the subtle hum of string instruments playing somewhere in the background.

Raiden, meanwhile, was still interrogating the menu like a royal investigator.

"Waiter, what's the difference between flaming steak and infernal steak? Does one burn brighter? Or does one… burn your insides?"

The waiter smiled politely through his exhaustion. "The infernal steak is marinated in special spices that—"

"Can I have both?"

"Of course, sir."

Kent's fork stopped mid-air. "No. You can't."

Raiden frowned. "Why not?"

"Because if you keep asking questions, you'll never eat," Kent said, exhaling heavily. "You know what? I'll order for you."

Raiden perked up. "Really? Okay, big brother. Surprise me."

Kent turned to the waiter with an evil glint in his eyes. "One of everything for my little brother."

The waiter froze. "Pardon?"

Baren nearly choked on his drink. "Everything?"

Raiden blinked, unsure if he heard correctly. "Wait, everything everything?"

Kent smiled sweetly. "Every. Single. Dish. On the menu. He'll have one of every single dish."

The waiter hesitated. "That would take some time to prepare, my lord."

Kent waved dismissively. "He's got time. We've got time."

Raiden frowned. "You're kidding, right?"

Kent leaned closer, voice calm but cold. "If you don't finish it all, I'll tell Father that you wasted money on silly things."

Raiden gasped dramatically. "You wouldn't!"

Kent took another bite of his food. "Try me."

Baren sighed, hiding a grin. "You really do enjoy tormenting him, don't you?"

"It's called teaching responsibility," Kent said flatly. "He wants to be indecisive. I'll teach him how to decide."

Hearing that it was supposed to be punishment, Raiden puffed out his chest. "Ha! That's light work. I can eat anything!"

"Good," Kent said. "Because you just ordered the entire menu."

It started small. One waiter arrived with three plates.

Then another came with five.

Then another.

And another.

Until Raiden's entire side of the table disappeared beneath an avalanche of fine dishes — roasted meat, buttered chicken wings, seaweed soup, golden pastries, sapphire dumplings, ruby-frosted cake, and twelve types of meat whose names Raiden couldn't even pronounce.

Customers from nearby tables turned to look. Some even stood to see what was happening.

Raiden stared at the mountain of food, mouth half open. "...I think I might've made a mistake."

Kent smiled serenely. "Then I suppose I'll have to write Father a letter."

Raiden straightened immediately. "No! I'm finishing it! Every. Single. Bite."

Baren raised an eyebrow. "You're going to regret that."

Raiden smirked. "Not if I have a plan."

Kent leaned back. "Oh no. He's planning again."

While his brother and the captain resumed eating, Raiden quietly reached into his mind and summoned his Skill Draw System.

The familiar grid appeared before his inner eye — glowing lines of light forming the menu of all his obtainable skills.

"Let's see…" he muttered under his breath, pretending to sip his drink. "Something to help me eat a lot… stamina, digestion, maybe an eating technique?"

He scrolled through the E-class section, then D-class, before his eyes landed on one name that made his heart skip.

[Devourer] — D-Class Skill

[Description: Grants the user the ability to consume and process vast quantities of edible matter without discomfort or limit. Increases energy conversion rate by 150%.]

Raiden's grin widened. "Perfect."

He checked his balance. He still had enough SP left from his last training missions.

"Thirteen points. Easy."

Without hesitation, he purchased the skill.

A sharp rush of warmth surged through his body. His stomach tingled faintly, like his insides had just stretched and fortified themselves.

The waiter walked by again, pausing as he saw Raiden's still untouched mountain of food. "Would you like me to pack some of these to—"

Raiden picked up his fork with newfound determination. "No need. I'm just getting started."

Kent raised an eyebrow. "Are you seriously going to eat all that?"

Raiden grinned. "Watch me."

Baren leaned his elbow on the table, clearly amused. "This, I have to see."

Raiden started slow — carefully cutting into the first steak, savoring the flavor like a proper noble.

Then he moved to the next plate.

And the next.

And then, something changed. His appetite, once human, grew monstrous.

Every bite fueled him, every swallow felt effortless. It was as though his stomach had become a bottomless well.

Kent stopped eating halfway through his meal, watching in disbelief as Raiden demolished plate after plate.

"...That's not natural," Kent muttered.

Baren just stared, fork frozen midair. "How is he— He's not even slowing down!"

Raiden looked up, mouth full but eyes triumphant. "Told you—light work."

Kent pressed a hand to his face. "He's going to explode."

Raiden ignored him and kept eating, switching between dishes like a machine. The waiters, who had been watching from afar, now whispered to each other in awe and mild horror.

"This little lord is… remarkable," one muttered.

"Or cursed," another whispered.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Raiden slammed his fork down and exhaled deeply. The table was bare—clean plates stacked like trophies in front of him.

Kent's jaw dropped. "You actually finished it."

Baren whistled softly. "Remind me never to challenge you at the dinner table."

Raiden leaned back in his chair, hands on his bloated but oddly comfortable stomach. "Told you I could do it."

Kent narrowed his eyes. "How?"

Raiden grinned faintly. "Let's just say… I've been training."

"Training?"

"Yup."

Baren smirked. "Whatever you did, don't tell your father. He'll think you've gone mad. That skill should remain hidden."

Raiden just smiled wider, the faint glow of the Devourer skill fading behind his eyes.

A nearby nobleman, who'd been watching in shock, started clapping slowly.

Others followed, some laughing, others shaking their heads in disbelief.

The waiter returned, trying not to gape at the pile of empty dishes. "Would you… like dessert, my lord?"

Raiden smiled faintly. "Maybe just one or all."

Kent groaned audibly. "He's unstoppable."

Once again, he'd failed to teach his brother any lesson and instead, had learnt one. "You're scary."

Baren chuckled. "No, he's something worse. He's motivated."

Raiden leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as the waiter hurried off again.

Inside, his system flickered faintly — the Devourer skill pulsing like a satisfied beast. He'd actually done it. Another small victory for the self-proclaimed king.

He couldn't wait to tell Sir Leonard.

Or maybe he'd better not. The man would probably make him run laps for it.

Raiden smiled to himself, half proud, half horrified at what he'd just accomplished.

"Next time," he muttered under his breath, "I'm ordering two of everything."

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