"Whenever the dinner bell rings, it's time to serve."
jingle--
Tommy wakes up from a nightmare. The small room less than five steps long and wide was filled with filthy air. He stepped over the smelly bedpan, and the food was placed on the grid in front of the iron door of the room:
It was a viscous mush of eggs, grains, offal, cabbage and onions, mixed with some feathery leafy vegetables he didn't recognize.
Tommy picked up the bowl and drank it all. It was bland with just a hint of salt and no seasoning. To be honest, it was much more nutritious than what he usually ate, but it didn't feel like food.
More like, animal feed…
He licked his lips, remembering the day. He could no longer remember which day this was, and the ball radiating light and heat in his memory gradually became blurred in the dark time.
"Crunch——"
Dinner time was over and the door opened. The iron gate was surrounded by more iron gates, and all the children who came out were children of similar age to him. Most of them had the same fear in their eyes as his, while some had numb calm.
Tommy had only seen such a look in the barn.
Everyone stood in a row, washing their cheeks and hair in the sink. No one directed, no one spoke, just the terrible sound of water rushing.
"Private communication between servants is prohibited."
Tommy had seen some bold kids trying to communicate secretly, but he never saw them again.
From then on, he learned to remain silent.
After washing, an adult wearing a mask will lead them to their respective work places. Tommy's job is to bring the dishes prepared by the kitchen to the table:
A pair of pale, bloodless hands stretched out from behind the cold iron grille window and placed the dinner plate covered with a metal dinner cover on it. That was the main dish he was about to serve.
"There is only one main course."
Tommy carefully picked up the plate and held it flat to stand still, fearing it would shake a little. He didn't want to know what would happen if he knocked over the plate.
"Whenever the dinner bell rings, it's time to serve."
jingle--
The restaurant was so cold that it didn't look like a restaurant. The only source of light was the red candles dotted on the long dining table, like flowing pieces of meat.
In the darkness, diners wore ornate ball masks, exposing only their lips below their noses. Every eye was on him, hungry.
Although there was a hard marble floor under his feet, Tommy felt as if he was stepping on a swamp with every step he took, and he would sink into it if he wasn't careful.
"Only the most distinguished guests will receive the main course."
Finally, Tommy placed the dinner plate in front of the guests at the head table. The man was wearing a gorgeous silk ceremonial robe, and his figure was slightly stout, but he could not conceal his evil aura.
Tommy respectfully opened the lid, revealing a fragrant steak. The man waved his hand unceremoniously, indicating that he could go.
His work was done for now. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and quickened his pace to leave, but suddenly a loud shout came from behind him:
"What's going on?!"
The sound of the knife and fork hitting the table was very harsh. He turned around quickly and saw the man tearing off his napkin and throwing his mask under the table. There was still a piece of bloody steak on his fork.
"Call your boss over, call Mr. Juice over." The man said in a commanding tone.
"Mr. Juice is the owner of the club, and no employee is allowed to disobey his orders."
Tommy knew he couldn't disobey, but he had no idea where his boss was. He wanted to open his mouth to defend, but the long silence made him forget how to speak.
"I came all the way back here just to eat this kind of garbage?!" The man walked towards him angrily.
A figure in a white robe stood out from the shadows, and the face under the mask was as soft as a woman:
"You should not take off your mask in public, Mr. Geralds."
"Who cares? Everyone here knows me."
Jaros shook the cloak of his ceremonial robe angrily, like an anxious moth:
"I turned down the meeting and prepared good wine. Is this the kind of courtesy I got?"
"I admit that the club does have some ill-considered aspects. But I hope you can understand our intention-the best ingredients are usually reserved for the dinner. If we bring out the feast now, you will be at the dinner table." It will only make you more disappointed."
"Haha, you still know how to speak..."
Jaros sneered and walked back to the table and drank the red wine in the glass:
"So be it. I hope you won't disappoint me then."
"Please walk slowly. I apologize for the poor reception." Mr. Juice bent his back almost at a right angle and bowed.
It wasn't until Jaros' figure completely disappeared into the darkness that Mr. Juice looked at him and whispered softly:
"Okay, it's okay. Your name is Tommy, right."
"Yes, it is."
It took Tommy a long time to realize that the other person was talking to him, and he responded quickly.
He actually knows my name? !
“I remember every employee’s name.”
As if he guessed what Tommy was thinking, Mr. Juice showed a charming smile:
"By the way, Tommy, I'm afraid I have to arrange a task for you. A position in the kitchen has just been vacated, and today's dinner cannot be missed. Wouldn't you be willing to do this little favor for me?"
"Of course...of course I will."
Tommy knows that he has no room for rejection. If he wants to survive, he must first please Mr. Juice and win his trust.
"The master is the chef of the club. You are not allowed to communicate with him or accept food from him."
"You're Tommy, right? It doesn't matter if you don't know how to cook. Everyone starts by washing vegetables. Go and wash the basket of potatoes. You'll need them tonight."
The master is the owner of those pale hands. His entire body was shaved clean, and his scalp was as smooth as marble.
Washing potatoes is not difficult. Tommy also washed potatoes at home and was very skilled at it. He moved the basket full of potatoes to the sink and scrubbed the skin hard with his rough hands——
Suddenly, a strange slimy feeling covered his palms. Tommy stretched his hand out of the sink, and his fingers were covered with strands of hair.
Where did this hair come from? The master has no hair on his body...
He finally understood where the kitchen helper had gone and what the dish he had served before was.
"Ingredients must be washed beforehand."
