Late evening.
Not a single customer in the restaurant today—not even a fly.
It was only thanks to the money I'd saved up that I hadn't gone bankrupt already; if not for that, I would have closed down long ago.
Well, it wasn't like I'd opened the place to make money anyway.
I was confident in the taste.
In my previous life, I had been a chef who received a Michelin star and four Gourmet Ribbons.
Every restaurant I worked at was featured on TV gourmet shows, and the customers came in a never-ending stream.
But because I neglected my health and devoted myself entirely to work every day, I died a hollow death.
Cause of death: acute myocardial infarction due to overwork.
So this time, I wanted to run a restaurant for my own satisfaction.
One where a truly small number of regular customers would come and enjoy themselves,
a place where I could demonstrate my culinary philosophy to my heart's content and heal.
Ring, ring—
Just as I was about to start cleaning up the ingredients and close the shop, I heard the bell.
A customer? Finally, a customer?
"…."
For some reason, a woman with her hair and clothes completely drenched.
It was strange—it didn't seem to be raining outside.
Her long hair, like wet seaweed, covered her entire face.
Her jawline was slender and her skin was pale; she seemed quite beautiful.
"Are you here to eat?"
"…Yes."
"Please sit wherever you're comfortable."
Most likely, this customer was today's first and last.
"Have you decided on the menu? What can I get you?"
I asked the woman seated at the counter.
"…Warm home cooking…"
"Pardon?"
"Warm home cooking like my mom used to make…"
It was a strange order.
But I didn't particularly want to tell her, "Please choose from the menu," again.
Seeing her head completely soaked, it seemed like she had some kind of story.
Warm home cooking like mom used to make, huh.
The first things that came to mind were kimchi jjigae and doenjang jjigae.
But a mother's home-cooked meal in this world wasn't like that.
A bland stew made by roughly throwing in vegetables and tough meat, with bread as hard as stone.
That was what came to mind when you said "mom's home cooking" here.
This was a restaurant.
No matter what, I couldn't serve customers bad food.
As long as it was warm and made with care, anything would be fine.
After all, "mom's home cooking" isn't about the type of dish.
I went into the kitchen and started cooking.
Snap! Fwoosh!
With a snap of my right hand, fire ignited beneath the pot.
I immediately put water in the pot and stir-fried vegetables and meat.
I seasoned it with homemade tomato paste and chicken stock, and dissolved a little flour to adjust the thickness.
I cooked rice, and tossed together a salad with a refreshing yuja marmalade dressing.
The meat stew set was completed quickly.
It looked like an ordinary menu item you could eat at any inn.
But cooking wasn't about flashiness.
Good ingredients, precise doneness, and perfect balance in seasoning.
Even an ordinary dish could be made delicious in countless ways.
"Your order is ready."
I set the stew, rice, and salad on a tray and placed them before the woman.
I also poured her a glass of non-alcoholic ale so the food would go down smoothly.
The woman, who had been silently staring at the food, quietly picked up her spoon.
I deliberately stepped back a bit and watched her eat.
I hoped she would like the food.
The spoon entered the steaming stew.
And slowly, with one hand, she pushed back the hair covering her face and took a bite.
"…!"
The woman's eyes went wide.
And the speed at which she scooped stew into her mouth with her spoon noticeably increased.
I watched the guest eating the stew with relish, feeling deeply satisfied.
It seemed the food was indeed to her liking.
After the meal, I asked.
"Was the meal to your satisfaction?"
The woman's expression had brightened considerably.
When she first entered the shop, her wet hair had made her face hard to see.
"Yes… this is the first time I've had stew this delicious."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"It was really warm… and strangely, it made me think of my mother."
Stew itself was a common food in this world.
But moving someone with such common food was also a skill.
The woman had emptied every last bit of food and was smiling.
It had been a while since I'd served a customer and satisfied them; I'd sleep well tonight.
Just as I was thinking that.
"Thank you… I'm truly fortunate to have eaten food like this."
The woman's body began to gradually turn transparent.
With her eyes closed and a smile on her face.
"Um… miss?"
"Thank you… thank you…."
Slurrp….
The woman's voice gradually faded.
Her increasingly transparent body disappeared completely at some point, becoming invisible.
"A ghost…?"
I stared blankly at the spot where the customer had vanished and muttered.
I thought she seemed to have a story, but to think she wasn't among the living.
The stew bowl had been completely emptied.
She had eaten all the side dishes too.
I don't know where the food went since she was a ghost, but….
Was she a ghost who simply wanted to eat one last warm, sincere meal?
So she ate warm food that reminded her of her mother and passed on….
Ah, so moving.
Everything's fine, everything's fine, but….
"You should pay before you leave."
I quietly began to chant a magic spell.
* * *
Grand Mage Klaus.
A master of elemental magic.
The one who first established the mana micro-control method known as "Meta Control."
That was me.
A magic talent so insane that I was truly called a genius.
Having gained fame as a Grand Mage, I had worked as an adventurer for 15 years.
My final achievement was sealing the Abyssal Rift that could have destroyed the world, together with my comrades.
With that, I, Grand Mage Klaus, announced my retirement.
And so I opened a restaurant with the money I had earned during my adventurer days.
The restaurant's name was .
It held the literal meaning of taking your time and enjoying the meal.
It was my resolve to never serve tasteless food meant only to fill the stomach.
"Huu… huuuu… I… I was wroooong…!"
And now, before me, the ghost woman with the wet hair was kneeling and receiving punishment.
I had been happy that a customer came after so long, but to think she was a dine-and-dash ghost.
The ghost, who had finished her meal deliciously, thanked me, and was trying to silently slip away as if passing on, had not known.
That I was Grand Mage Klaus, who could even bind spirits.
"It is only natural to pay the proper price for a satisfying meal."
"What kind of restaurant in the world takes money from a ghost?!"
"And is it normal for a ghost to scrape the bowl clean and devour every last bite?"
"Ugh…."
The ghost woman puffed up her cheeks and looked up at me with a face full of dissatisfaction.
When she first entered the shop, she had been drenched in all sorts of moodiness like a woman with a story,
but now she was nothing more than a difficult customer throwing a tantrum to get food for free.
Though I was scolding her while holding her with magic, I actually had no intention of collecting the full price of the food.
I simply couldn't tolerate her being satisfied with my cooking yet showing no sincerity whatsoever.
I already had more money than I knew what to do with.
So it didn't have to be money.
If she paid a sincere price in any form, I was willing to forgive her.
"What's your name?"
"…Aris."
"You look young. How did you end up like this?"
The ghost Aris had long hair.
And it was soaked through like wet seaweed.
Ghosts in this world were no big deal.
When a living being died with lingering regrets, a spirit remained in the exact appearance it had at death.
That was why, in necromancy, ghosts were also called "afterimages of life."
"I drowned. In a lake."
"So that's why your head is constantly soaked like wet seaweed."
"I want to dry it too, but it won't dry, this thing."
Aris grabbed a handful of her wet hair and squeezed out the water.
The droplets that fell onto the wooden floor immediately evaporated and vanished.
Because she had drowned, her soaked body had become a part of her ghostly self.
"Well… anyway, how do you plan to pay for the meal?"
"Are you really going to collect it?"
"Of course I'm going to collect it for real. If I weren't going to collect, I wouldn't have caught you. And straighten your hands."
The ghost Aris with her soaked-seaweed hair made a tearful face and raised both hands high again.
But of course, a ghost wouldn't have money.
Then what should I receive as payment?
"Hmm…."
Looking at her closely, she was quite a beauty.
Perhaps because she hadn't eaten or grown properly, she was a bit lacking in volume, but she was cute.
And her long hair like eternally wet seaweed, which I kept looking at, seemed to have its own charm too.
Isn't there something strangely stimulating about seeing a woman who just stepped out of the shower?
Come to think of it, my restaurant had far too few customers.
I had wanted to do relaxed business focused on regular customers, which was why I had opened the shop in such a remote place.
But things had gotten so bad that instead of regular business, I was lucky to get one customer about once a week.
I was already confident in the taste of my food.
Then what my restaurant lacked was….
"Work here."
"Huh?"
"You have no money and no way to pay for the food. Then you have no choice but to pay with your body."
"Um, I'm a ghost? I don't even have a physical body?"
"I'll maintain one for you with magic."
Though she made a flustered face and tried to protest weakly, it was no use.
I am Grand Mage Klaus.
A ghost lacking a physical body is not a problem at all.
"Beef stew set meal, 300 lira. I'll deduct 30 lira per day."
"That's expensive…!"
"It's obvious, since I'm practically employing someone who'll be almost no help. Or pay up properly."
"Uuuuu…."
She had no choice.
And so, I ended up temporarily hiring a ghost employee.
* * *