Everyone in the restaurant stopped talking and looked at Felix, who was still holding the half-eaten pie and looking more and more scared with regrets. The regret is that he paid a good amount of money just to get the pie's taste.

He said quietly, "No... I paid a lot of money for this pie because it looks so good."

The spoon said, "Well, dingus, you paid for a mistake that can blow up an entire restaurant! A pie like that deserves to be used as a weapon!"

What the spoon said was nonsense that even Greg needed to think about what he meant, "I know this reference from somewhere else... a pie that can be used as a weapon because it can cause an explosion..."

"Take this as a lesson, and become a better person to never go to a street vendor's stall again. They look cheap, yes, but is the taste even worth it!?"

Greg felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. There was a real, unforced smile on his face. The spoon seemed completely silly, as if it were excessive, and it would likely cause diplomatic issues if anyone important ever asked for its opinion.

He began to laugh. Not the polite chuckle he'd been forcing since the dungeon, but real, honest laughter that came from deep inside him.

Marina looked up at him in shock and happiness. Then she started laughing, and Bork joined in, and Felix, even though he was hurt, and Lylia was trying very hard not to smile.

The silliness was back. The mess was back. And maybe, Greg was starting to come back, as well as his usual self from the first time he was reincarnated.

A customer close by cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but could the spoon give me a score on my soup? Now I'm really interested because of your score on that pie."

"Mine too!" someone else yelled.

"And my bread!"

"Can it give drinks a score?"

Lylia gave Greg a look that stressed that this was his fault and he was going to help her deal with it. Greg shrugged and smiled. "You asked for quality assurance."

"I asked for a regular spoon that would let me know if my food was burning! And of course you're going to do the classic Greg thing you always did back then, now that's my Greg alright."

"You mean my Greg." Marina gives her a smug smile that makes Lylia feel annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Lylia crossed her arms.

Greg said, "As always from the blacksmith who refuses to forge weapons! I don't make normal things, and I thought we had made that clear by now."

The Critic's Spoon spoke up, sensing a chance to make things worse. "I am open to more ratings. But I have to warn you that I will be honest, and being honest can hurt."

"If you can't handle the truth about what you eat, I suggest you leave now to protect your weak ego before it's too late."

"And of course if I'm going into swearing mode, then that means you fucked up! Better not make me angry like a chef who always calls you 'donkey' or 'idiot sandwich!'"

What the spoon said was that it made no one leave. If anything, more people pushed forward, eager to have the most snobbish spoon in the world judge their food.

Lylia said to herself, "This is going to be a long day for my restaurant."

Marina wiped her eyes and said, "This is going to be the best day."

"Greg, I'm sorry for everything mean I ever said about your strange things. This spoon is a gift to all people, like it's the messiah."

"Calling it a messiah is exaggerating, and look at Felix over there." Greg pointed out that it called Felix's lunch a crime of war.

"Hahaha! Then, how about calling it a mysterious present?!"

"Whatever floats your boat, I guess..."

As the restaurant descended into organized chaos, with The Critic's Spoon judging and rating every dish that came near it, Greg stood back and watched. People were laughing, arguing, and gasping at especially bad ratings.

Overall, they were having a great time being insulted by cutlery. It was ridiculous and silly, like it was the kind of peaceful chaos he had been trying to make when he first said he wouldn't make weapons.

Marina put her hand in his and leaned against his shoulder. She said softly, "You're smiling, like a real smile with sincerity! I missed that."

Greg said, "I missed it too."

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"Thanks for coming back to your usual self."

Greg held her hand and watched as The Critic's Spoon said that someone's bread roll was "a seven out of ten, but only because I appreciate the effort that went into achieving such perfect mediocrity."

He said honestly, "I'm not all the way back yet, but I'm getting there with some process."

Marina said, "That's all anyone can ask for."

Felix was arguing with the spoon from across the room about whether his pie was really that awful. The spoon claimed that Felix's pie was indeed bad and that he should be ashamed for questioning its judgment.

Bork was betting on what score different foods would get. Seraphine was still writing down what she saw, and her face showed that she was genuinely interested in science. Elwen was drawing the scene in an attempt to capture the chaos on paper.

And even though Lylia had said she didn't want to, she was really using the spoon to help her change her recipes. It appears that the brutal honesty was helpful if you could get over how rude it was.

"I think the Brotherhood of Peace needs a new motto," Marina said after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"We make bonds, not weapons. But maybe we should also say something about making chaos. Let's be honest, that's what we're really good at."

Greg laughed. "That's not the message we want to send because it can potentially cause a huge misunderstanding!"

"Why noooot~? Chaos has kept us alive this long."

"What she said was right." The Critic's Spoon picked that moment to say that someone's choice of wine with their meal was "an affront to taste itself, and I'm including the meal in that assessment. This made everyone laugh and protest even more."

"Okay, fine," Greg said, watching what was happening. "I believe we'll be okay."

"Better than okay," Marina said. "We're going to be famous. In the strangest way possible."

"That's already been going on for a whole year, by the way..."

"Then this time, let's make it stranger."

Greg kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer to shut her up, and then he felt more at peace than he had in weeks. The workshop was a mess, his creations were silly, and his girlfriend was actively pushing him to make things worse.

It was wonderful that it felt like home. And this time, Greg decided not to question things. Instead, he would embrace the journey and see what unfolded next in the chaos.

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