Chapter 4 Mom’s Baggage Had a Food Sanitation Notebook. No Signs of a Chef’s License.

The third day.

Mamako included, everyone went to school together.

“Ugh… Like she belongs here…and she’s even sitting next to me…”

“Just until class starts! And Mr. Burly gave his permission to observe the class… But, well… If you really don’t want me here, I could go back to the inn.”

“And so, rejected by her son, Mamako sat alone in their room, her head down, looking forlorn…her heart broken by her cold-hearted son… Sniff…”

“Hey, Wise! Stop narrating! God, you’re so awful! Your personality sucks!”

“I don’t think you should make Mama sad! I feel sorry for her!”

“Mm, mm, good girl, Porta. You’re so nice. Well, taking Porta’s opinion into account, I suppose I can grant you permission to stay, Mom.”

“What the hell, Masato?! There’s a pretty big discrepancy between how you treat the two of us!”

“That’s based entirely on your relative humanity.”

And they were bickering like always.

“Ms. Mamako! Do you mind?” a male student said, coming up to her. His face was all ASCII, so it was impossible to tell who he was, but he seemed earnest enough.

He bowed his head to Mamako, held out his hand, and with his heart on his sleeve, yelled, “Mamako! When I first saw you, I knew! Would you please…be my girlfriend?”

She was already being asked out.

Mamako handled it well, calmly smiling back at him.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m honored you feel that way… But I’m afraid I’m Ma-kun’s mother, so I can’t go out with you. I’m really sorry.”

“I—I see… Sniff…”

The student ran away, furiously wiping at the fountain of tears.

Porta watched all this with astonishment. Wise furiously took notes.

“That’s the sixth person to ask you out! You’re amazing, Mama!”

“One more torpedoed. Counting written confessions, she’s on her thirteenth… The commotion yesterday clearly skyrocketed her popularity. Now then, Masato, as her son, tell us, how do you feel about your mother’s explosive popularity?”

“I wish I was dead. End of comment.”

Who wanted to see boys their own age asking their mom out? Masato averted his eyes, feigning indifference.

But that left him facing the Cleric family. They were now sitting some distance from Masato’s party…

“…” Glaaare.

The second Masato had looked their way, Medhimama fixed him with a fearsome scowl. It was unnerving, to say the least. “Urgh…” He hastily looked away, pretending he’d never looked that way at all.

“Ugh… I’m drawing a lot of aggro over here…”

“Well, duh. You blocked Medhi from making off with number one. And that old bat’s being super competitive with Mamako to boot… Reckless idiot. No way she could ever beat Mamako. You know Mamako tops the Mom Rankings!”

“Wise, that’s not true!” Mamako said, unusually stern for her. “There are no Mom Rankings. Your own mom is always number one. Everyone likes their own mom best. Even you, Wise.”

“W-well… I mean…my mom’s kinda a lost cause, but…I guess she is still my mom, so…maybe a part of me feels that way.”

“See? I knew it. You agree, right, Porta?”

“Um, well… My mom is…the one I like best, I guess,” Porta stammered. Was she just saying that to please Mamako?

“And of course, Ma-kun thinks I’m the best. Right?”

“Not at all. Last thing on my mind,” he said.

Mamako looked very sad and started chanting her psychological debuff spell.

“…That’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to me in all my life…” “Wait! Don’t do that!” Every time she pulled that card, the hero bitterly regretted it. There was no defense against it. It wreaked havoc on his heart!

But this farce aside…

When he’d heard Mamako’s speech, the first thing Masato thought was…

…Is that how Medhi feels?

Because she loved her mother, would she accept any awful treatment, believing firmly in her love?

Even though that awful treatment was making the dark emotions fester within her? Because it was her mother, she could stay with her?

Looking at Medhi sitting quietly beside her tyrant of a mother, Masato was only too aware he was sticking his nose in her business.

But before he could think on it further, Mr. Burly came in. “All right, Ma-kun. I’ll be watching from the back!” “Yeah, yeah.” Mamako retreated to the observation seats. Medhimama joined her but sat herself as far from Mamako as possible.

Morning homeroom started.

“Okay! Everyone’s here. Well, morning news time!”

Mr. Burly turned toward the chalkboard, burly fingers clutching a thin piece of chalk.

And wrote…

School Festival.

“Today is the school festival! Let’s all have a great time!”

“Yaaay! The school festival! …Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!”

“Mm? What’s the matter, Hero Masato? Hardly seems worth the over-the-top reaction.”

“No, this makes no sense! You can’t have a surprise festival! That’s nuts! Festivals are…”

“Normally you pick leaders, decide on a project, make preparations, and so on. Yes, that’s all true! …However, the festival we’re about to do is not merely a celebration but also a test to measure the student’s ambition. Bear that in mind, if you would.”

“Our…ambition?”

“How passionately are you able to throw yourself into an event that pops up out of nowhere? We’ll evaluate your approach and grant points based on that. So, um…”

“Oh…I get it. Management would like us actively participating in events, then. I see. That is an urgent part of any game curriculum.”

“Mm. If events are not exciting, then they not only failed to draw in new accounts but result in a number of recent and older accounts withdrawing. Success of events directly links to the longevity of a game. For the sake of this world, stop fussing and enjoy them. Now I’ll explain the necessary conditions. Eyes up here.”

Mr. Burly wished to protect the world he lived in.

On the board, he transcribed the key information for the in-game Gioco Accademia School Festival.

The festival would open that same day. It would take place in the morning and afternoon, and there was an evening event scheduled, too.

Students would join in the event as individuals or in parties, either attending or creating their own attractions. Whatever they wished.

“The school store will provide necessary materials. If you need significant equipment for things like stalls or plays, put in a request there. The school will take care of it. But there is a limit to the building data we can provide, and the locations available are first come, first served, so the key to victory is swift action. That’s all from me! Don’t sit this one out!”

And with that, Mr. Burly turned to leave.

“…Whoops, almost forgot,” he added. “There’s another special event tomorrow, so look forward to it!”

This time, Mr. Burly really did leave…

Nope, he’s coming back again.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. There’s one more thing I forgot. Since this is the school festival, parents and guardians are welcome to participate. This should make for some excellent memories to share with your children. That’s all!”

“Huh? Wha…? Mr. Burly?! What are you…? Hey, don’t leave!”

Masato tried to argue this last point, but Mr. Burly was gone in a flash. The bastard.

Morning homeroom ended. The classroom immediately grew quite loud. All students rose to their feet, discussing party formations and festival plans with their friends, everyone getting very worked up. They had an hour to get ready. Time was of the essence.

Masato’s party was off to a great start… Well, not really. Masato was clutching his head in agony. Again.

“Even the festivals have moms involved… Why…? What’s this school even for…?”

“At this point, you just need to accept what fate has in store for you… Anyway, if you’ve got time to grumble about it, then you better start thinking about what we should do. We’ve got no time.”

“Yes… Oh, I know, Ma-kun! What about a stall? I’m a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, sounds great. I’m in.”

“Me too! I want to run a shop with Mama!”

“…Mom’s not only part of the discussion; she’s steering the whole thing… Why…? What’s the point…?”

Masato dug his fingers deeper into his hair, groaning all the while.

“If I may,” Medhimama said.

She and Medhi had come over to them.

“I happened to overhear you discussing plans for a stall. In which case…”

Medhimama snapped her finger out, pointing directly at Mamako.

“Let’s have a contest! The victor decided by which stall ends up selling more!”

“Huh? …Um… Okay…?”

Mamako halfheartedly activated a mom-off!

Mamako herself didn’t really seem to get it, but Medhimama was full speed ahead!

“…Sigh… Gawd… This toxic bitch is so obnoxious…”

Medhi’s gloomy snarl was not lost on Masato.

Medhimama’s forceful enthusiasm was really distracting, but Masato’s attention was focused on Medhi’s—“We will emerge victorious! Grrrrr!” Wow, Medhimama, shut up already. What was wrong with her? She was just exhausting.

The school provided the major equipment needed for stalls, but there were only so many available on a first come, first served basis.

Speed was vital, yet they’d wasted a bunch of time dealing with a loudmouthed old bat and submitted their application late. The result…

The setup Masato’s party received was a stall designed to look like a diner in a rustic town.

“It’s kinda like…some shop that shut down years ago.”

“More like one that’s technically still operating, but you’ve never seen anyone actually go in.”

“Um… I-it does look a little old!”

“Mommy thinks it looks cozy and relaxing.”

Their descriptions varied, but all agreed it was run-down. A shop that had clearly seen better days.

Running things out of a shop like this was just depressing… But wait, it wasn’t all bad news.

The building itself was unfortunate, but the one saving grace was the location. The party’s shop was built along the main road leading from the school gate to the school building. Everyone visiting the festival would walk past them. They’d scored a high-traffic area, and that was worth celebrating…

Or maybe not, given their surroundings.

“My, my, my. What a filthy hovel! You poor things.”

An obnoxious laugh filled the air. The owner of the stall directly across from them, Medhimama, had come to scope them out, Medhi in tow.

They had the sort of fancy café you’d find in the heart of any major metropolis. An artistically engineered design fitted with natural-looking fake plants, all excessively polished with a sun-drenched wooden patio out front.

“Ugh… How is theirs so much better…?”

“Ohhh-ho-ho-ho! It looks like our victory is guaranteed before we’ve even begun! Customers will flock to our stall in droves! You’ll be left twiddling your thumbs, watching them forlornly! Ohhh-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

Having delivered this final blow, Medhimama withdrew into her shop.

But the moment she turned her back on them, Medhi came over, bowing her head apologetically.

“Sorry, Masato. She can be so rude…”

“Uh, oh, don’t worry about it,” Masato said. “You don’t need to apologize for her. We’re cool.”

Reassured, she turned to leave.

“Oh, wait… Hey, Medhi,” Masato said, stopping her. There was something bothering him.

“Yes? What is it?”

“About yesterday. Outside, after the pool class…you sort of went, uh…berserk? That’s what it looked like to me anyway… Is that…?”

Masato wasn’t really sure how to ask this.

Medhi flinched. For the tiniest moment, he saw a tense look on her face.

Then, “Oh? I don’t know what you mean.”

She gave him an adorable little head tilt. Like she genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. “I need to get back, though. Good luck!” “Oh, um…” But Medhi was already gone.

Did she just run away? It sure felt like it…but well, neither one of them were comfortable discussing the subject openly, so maybe he should leave her alone for now. It really bothered him, but maybe best not to push things.

They had to get the shop ready anyway.

Masato put that all behind him and stared at their pitiful stall.

“What do we do about this…?” he asked.

“Dunno if there’s anything we can do,” Wise said. “We’re gonna be operating out of a real dive. Nothing we can do about it, so we just gotta make the best of it.”

“Yes! We just have to make this the best dive we can! …It doesn’t matter how old the shop looks! What matters is how we treat customers!”

“Porta, you’re so right. Customer service is everything. So, Ma-kun…”

“Yeah, I get it. Just gotta make the best of it. All of us, together.”

Together.

The very idea threatened to plunge him into despair. He struggled to keep his head up.

…But Mom’s involved…

That thought kept coming back to smack him again, but he did his best to force it out of his brain. To empty his mind.

The party went inside to start getting ready.

The interior was as shabby as the exterior. Cheap tables and chairs, a messy, dirty-looking kitchen behind the counter. Everything was dimly lit and run-down. This was what they had to work with.

“We don’t have much time, so let’s split the tasks up. As far as the food we’re gonna serve, Mom’s the best cook, so we’ll leave it all up to you. Let us know what you need.”

“Got it. Leave it to Mommy!”

“And if we need anything, let’s have Porta make them. Plates and whatever else. Is that okay with you, Porta?”

“Yes! I’ve got you covered!”

“So Wise and I will have to clean the place. Nothing we can do about how shabby it is, but let’s at least make it sanitary.”

“Yeah, yeah, I figured. It’s a chore, but it’s gotta get done. I dunno if cleaning this mess will really make much of a difference, though…”

“Fair… Just thought I’d like to try to brighten the place up somehow. If we can at least make it a little less gloomy-looking…”

The shop was downright claustrophobic. Masato looked around, searching for inspiration.

“Oh, I know! I have an idea!” Mamako said.

Everyone looked at her. “Wise, lend me your ear.” “Mm? What?” She whispered to Wise for a minute. Masato couldn’t make out what she was saying.

Wise pulled out her magic tome and began chanting a spell.

“…Spara la magia per mirare… Bomba Sfera! And! Bomba Sfera!”

Wise activated chain cast. Two exploding spheres appeared.

Each hit a wall. K​a​-​b​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​m. The walls were totally blown away.

Much better. Great view of the outside… Wait.

“What?! Wise, what the hell?!”

“I just did what Mamako told me to do.”

“She told you to…? Mom! What were you thinking?!”

“Now we’ve got some outside light coming in, and there’s a lovely breeze!”

“Yeah, sure, but… Argh! We’re drawing a crowd! And everyone can see inside!”

A number of students were gathering outside the shop, drawn by the sound of the explosion. Who could blame them? They were peering into the shop, making Masato feel like he was in a zoo…

And then Mamako did it again.

“Oh, I know! Mommy has another idea!”

“Nope. We’ve had enough ideas outta you. Please just don’t do anything else.”

“Oh, don’t say that. Hear me out first, okay? You see…” Mamako took Masato’s arm, leaning over, and whispered in his ear.

When he heard her idea, Masato…

“​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​Huh?”

…was so stunned it was all he could do to blink at her.

He genuinely, completely, from the bottom of his heart had no idea what to say.

The festival was about to start. He didn’t have time to think it over.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the school grounds.

“Your attention, please! The first annual Gioco Accademia School Festival begins…now!”

This signaled both the opening of the festival and the start of the fight.

When she heard the announcement, a smug smile spread across Medhimama’s lips.

“It begins,” she said.

She was in the owner’s office on the second floor of her fancy café.

Lounging on a couch, elegantly filing her nails, passing the time in comfort. And utter confidence.

Naturally. She’d already done all there was to do. Her plans were flawless.

“The shop itself is perfect. Our location is ideal. The sweets and drinks we’re serving are top-class items purchased at the finest shop in town. And more than anything, the most beautiful student in class, my daughter, is our waitress. We will be outdone on nothing!”

Indeed. They would not lose. Victory was the only outcome. This was a battle they were destined to win. Perhaps that was a little dull, but nonetheless, she felt fantastic.

“Now then, I should go take a look. As the owner, I must say hello from time to time. Ohhh-ho-ho-ho. I imagine I’ll be showered with compliments.”

The festival had only just begun, but she was sure the shop would be packed with customers. How could it not be?

She hoped she would have enough room to walk through the crowd.

Medhimama went downstairs and found…

“…Huh?”

…the shop was completely empty. The fancy luxury chairs and tables were all lined up with no one sitting in them. “How? How? How?!” She looked again, and again, but there were zero customers here.

“Th-this isn’t…”

The shocking sight made her dizzy, and she swayed, but she managed to stay on her feet.

What was going on here? She wanted to start screaming but controlled herself.

“R-right. The festival’s only just begun. Perhaps it’s too soon to start getting upset.”

Yes. That must be it. She’d come to check on things too quickly. The gates had only just opened, and the guests hadn’t made it this far back yet. What else?

Medhimama told herself all this and settled down at a table. Making it look like she was a customer… Actually, no, not really. She simply wished to observe.

Then the shop door opened. The shop’s very first customer! Medhimama hopped to her feet… No, that wasn’t it.

“I’m back.”

At the door was Medhi, wearing a waitress outfit. Dressed beautifully, in an outfit that would surely defeat all competition, she moved with elegance, bowing politely to the shop interior.

She noticed her mother sitting there.

“Oh, Mother. What brings you here?”

“O-oh, just checking in. Where did you go?”

“I went to scope out Masato’s shop.”

“Oh, really? It seems like the festival hasn’t drawn much of a crowd yet, and even if it did, hardly anyone would visit that shop. I don’t see what good scouting them would…”

“No, that’s not true at all. It is still early, but their shop is packed.”

“…Huh?”

Medhimama couldn’t believe her ears. Packed?

No. No, no, no, no. That couldn’t be. It made no sense. How could that be?

But…but if it was true…

“Don’t be ridiculous! There’s no way they…” Medhimama said, flying out the door. “Wha…?!” she gasped, unable to believe her eyes.

Across the street…were a hundred people lined up to eat at a diner. Above the door was a sign that read MOTHER’S BACK.

Masato and Wise had their hands full dealing with the crowd. They were getting desperate.

“Excuse me! Please don’t block the entrance! Form an orderly line! Please!”

“Anyone who doesn’t listen will get a lecture from Mamako… Wait, no, that’s just a reward for these… J-just line up like we say! Keep the doors clear! Being able to see inside the shop from the street is, like, one of the shop’s selling points!”

The crowd proved fairly obedient, forming a neat line. What well-mannered NPCs. Definitely made in Japan. Cultures that habitually form lines never forget to program that behavior.

Now everyone passing could see inside.

The Mother’s Back diner had a see-through design, with no walls on either side.

The seats inside the shop were lined up like a classroom, with all diners facing the same direction. All seats were already full.

All the diners’ eyes were on the kitchen, and Mamako inside.

She was chopping vegetables on a cutting board, keeping an eye on the pot on the stove.

Masato had grown up seeing her like this. Watching his mother’s back as she got dinner ready.

Every now and then she’d turn around, smile, and speak to the crowd.

“It’s almost ready, so you all be good little boys and girls and wait just a little longer!”

Yep, there’d been many a day she spoke to him like that. And naturally…

““““Okaaay! We’ll waaaait!”””” the diners replied with gusto.

Their actual ages had no bearing. All the diners were children to her. And as children, manners dictated that they draw out the vowels. It was an iron-clad rule.

Advanced diners managed to add a note of petulant exasperation to it that was extremely toddler-like.

Mother’s Back was a concept diner that revolved around the idea of mom cooking for you. It had proven extremely popular with oversized children everywhere.

They were so busy that Masato and Wise were already worn-out.

“Sigh… This is already a mess.”

“Y-yeah… I always thought all boys had a bit of an Oedipus complex, but I didn’t think it would be this effective… This is nuts…”

“Mom’s idea paid off… Argh… I’m glad the shop’s doing well, but I’m suuuper not comfortable with this at the same time…”

“Ohhh, I get it. You’re her kid, so you don’t like having Mamako be everybody’s mom. She’s making you jealous. Pfft.”

“She is not! That’s not it!”

“Heh-heh-heh, so you say, but deep down…”

“Um, Masato! Wise!” Porta called, scurrying around. “If you’re done wrangling the line, could you please come help? I can’t handle all this myself!”

“Whoops, our star server’s starting to panic. Better go rescue her.”

Masato didn’t have time to deny Wise’s teasing now. Porta had been left to take all the orders herself. He quickly went to help.

He filled a bunch of water glasses, put them on a tray, and started passing them out. “Still need water here!” “Oh, yeah, coming right up!” “Can I get a refill?” “Sure! On my way!” He was soon running back and forth.

Then the food started coming out, and he had to deliver that.

“Ready! Mommy’s special omelet rice. Can you take it out?”

“Got it! …Um, what table ordered that…?”

“Yo, hurry that up! Mom’s food is getting cold!”

“R-right! On my way! …Sorry to keep you waiting!”

“Wait, this isn’t right! I didn’t order this!”

“What?! S-s-sorry!”

Argh, already so busy his eyes were spinning. And the harder he worked, the more people got mad at him. What the hell? He was ready to cry.

He looked around for help, but Mamako was focused on cooking, and Porta and Wise were being run as ragged as Masato, so there was no one else to pick up the slack. They needed more hands.

Just then…

“Oh, I know! Mommy just had a good idea.”

“Another one? What now…?”

“Hee-hee. Leave this to Mommy!”

Mamako called out to the diners.

“Are there any good little boys or girls who want to help Mommy out? I’d just love it if you gave me a hand.”

We’re busy, so help us. She was straight up asking the customers to help. “Hey! Mom!” That seemed like poor form. They’d never go for something like… They did.

“Oh, I’ll help! I’m helping Mooommmy!”

“H-hey, wait! I’m gonna help Mommy! I’ll pass out chopsticks!”

“Hee-hee. You’re such good children! Thank you!”

The children were thrilled to help.

“I—I want to help, too! I’ll help serve the food! Oh, Hero Masato. Can I take that tray from you?”

“Um, sure, thanks… Wait, Mr. Burly?”

Including one very familiar diner, the children clamored to help Mom out, snatching the work away from the servers.

Masato’s party had nothing left to do. The three of them stood there, looking at the crowd of overgrown children.

“…Masato, you know what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, probably. But let’s not say it aloud. They are our customers.”

“I—I think they’re all really nice! That’s all!”

Porta was right. It was definitely not appropriate to call them creepy.

Nice was a much better word for it.

At the entrance to Mother’s Back, someone was peering inside.

Medhimama. Medhi by her side.

“Tch, why? What is going on? How is it so popular?”

“Um, Mother,” Medhi said, anxious, “everyone’s looking at us. I don’t think we should peep like…”

“You be quiet! They’ll notice us!” Medhimama brushed her off, biting her nails. This was mortifying.

She looked back at her own shop. They had no customers at all, just the sound of crickets. It was enough to make her want to cry.

The difference was clear. At this rate, she was going to lose. She had to do something.

“…Oh, I know. I know just the thing.”

Medhimama’s smile turned sinister, and she raised her staff.

Suddenly…

“Augh! What the…?!”

A cry rang out over the bustle of Mamako’s children.

“What? What’s wrong?” Masato said, hurrying over. He did work here, after all.

There was a Mysterious Object X sitting in front of a male customer, all blobby and slimy and brownish, reddish purple.

“Whoa… What is that…?”

“That’s what I wanna know! I was about to eat, and it turned into this! Are you serving this to customers? …I oughta sue! You owe me damages for this! I demand compensation! It’s the least you can do for me, right?”

“U-um, well…”

“How much can you pay me right now? I mean, I might just spread word about this around. And you don’t want that, do you? Huh?”

This customer had quickly turned from a child into a blackmailer. What now?

Then Mamako heard the commotion and came flying out of the kitchen. She ran over to the angry customer and started bowing her head.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe this happened!”

Mamako bowed her head again and again, apologizing desperately.

In the process, her supersize portions began bouncing up and down. “Whoa… W-wow…” The man opened his mouth to complain, but his eyes were glued to her chest…

And a diner nearby muttered, “Hey, wait… Is this part of the show? If you’re lucky enough to get a failed dish, Mommy Mamako will show up with some extra-jiggly dessert?”

“Mommy jiggle… How avant-garde! That stimulates my pioneering soul! And I do mean stimulates!”

“I must blaze this new trail! Give me another dish! Let it be a failure, please!”

Well, that was one way to interpret events. And one way to react to them.

The would-be blackmailer found himself the target of a number of envious glares.

“I-I’m not angry!” he said, going back to the good-boy routine. “I could never be mad at you!”

He took a firm grip on his spoon and with a blissful smile began eating the Mysterious Object X. “Oh, yummy! It looks weird, but it tastes great!” Apparently, the food only looked weird. As weird as this dude’s mind.

The tension in the shop dissipated, reverting to the original mood, with Mamako cooking and the children happily helping. With the customers ordering extra helpings, hoping to hit the jackpot, sales actually improved. Business was booming.

Masato watched for a few minutes, then went back to where Wise and Porta were sitting, eating their own meals.

“Nice one, Masato!”

“Masato, well done!”

“Thanks, thanks. But all I did was get yelled at. Mom ended up handling it for me again. Problem is…”

“Yep, that was definitely sabotage.”

“I think she used magic to change what the food looked like! I’m so mad!”

“Yep… Should we say something?”

To stop this from getting any worse, it might be better to handle it quickly. As much as he wanted a rest, Masato turned and headed out of the shop.

Outside…

“Ngggh! Th-this calls for my last resort! Medhi!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Go change into your swimsuit! Then burst into Mamako’s shop in your swimsuit and do a sexy dance in front of her customers! Quickly!”

“Yes, Moth— No, wait. Why do I have to…?!”

“You in a swimsuit will be the bait to lure them into my shop! You’re the most beautiful girl here, and there’s no way they’ll be able to resist you! If you insist, I’ll even allow you to do that suggestive pose.”

“I wasn’t even going to ask for that!”

“Oh, stop griping and do what I say! This is an order!”

“B-but…”

When Medhimama got this competitive, she thought nothing of forcing Medhi into impossible tasks.

Even for the sake of victory, demanding racy moves from your daughter was hardly appropriate. In fact, it was extremely inappropriate. It wasn’t that Masato was opposed to seeing that…but he figured he should probably step in.

Trying not to add fuel to the fire (likely an impossible task), Masato spoke softly.

“Um, thanks for stopping by! But we do ask that you refrain from creating a fuss outside the shop.”

“What?! This hardly qualifies as a fuss! Enough with your baseless accusations!”

Medhimama reacted like a rabid dog.

But when she realized it was Masato, her attitude changed immediately. She puffed herself up, trying to act like everything was going great. Pride really is something.

“O-oh, Masato. How aaare you? Fancy meeting you here.”

“Where else would I be? I’m fine, though, thanks for asking.”

“So? What do you want?”

“Um, well… About that… You see…”

Face-to-face, it was hard to directly voice his complaint. Even though he was in the right, actually saying it out loud wasn’t easy. He considered dropping it entirely.

Behind him, Wise called, “Say it!” She gave him a push. “Masato! Do your best!” Porta cried, earnestly cheering him on.

And Medhi was watching him closely. Like she wanted his help.

This was not a battle he could pull out of.

“…Um, Medhimama,” Masato began, “I think that’s about enough.”

“Enough? Enough of what?”

“Everything. Competitions, making Medhi to do the impossible… I really wish you’d drop all of it. Please.”

Masato bowed his head, making it a request. Earnestly, seriously, fervently pleading with her.

“Never,” Medhimama snapped. “Competitions are no game. Once entered, you must tackle them with all your might and continue doing so until victory is decided. Dropping out partway is out of the question. There’s no point unless a clear victor is decided.”

“I think the victor is already pretty obvious… Just look at our relative customer counts.”

“Th-this contest isn’t decided by which shop is more popular! That’s just… That’s a problem with the shop! Nothing to do with us! Not a problem for us at all!”

“But the contest is decided by who sells the most…”

“Shut up! The point is! We should be competing in a more direct fashion! Receive public evaluations by a number of people, find some way to make victory clear, make this contest fair and square! That would be better for everyone!”

“Ehhhh…”

They’d clearly be evaluated enough. And look who was complaining about fair and square. Masato was too disgusted to bother pointing it out, though.

Just then…

“Your attention, please!” called a student walking nearby. “I’m a festival admin. It’s time for the beauty contest! Participants needed! Nominate yourself or another—we don’t care!”

Speak of the devil. “You there!” “Eeek!” Medhimama pounced on them.

“You said something about a beauty contest? Is that true?!” Grrr.

“Y-yes! Recruiting entrants now! Open to all! Even as an advertisement for your stall! Come on and join!”

“Then Medhi will be representing our stall! Masato, put someone from your stall up, too! We’ll have a contest between our shops’ star staff!”

“No, wait, you can’t just decide that for—!” Masato tried to stop her, but…

“Fine,” Wise said, popping up out of nowhere. “Let’s do this! Let’s find out who has the best waitress!”

You could search the whole world over and find no one else who thought Wise was their stall’s star waitress.

But if she wanted to do this, why not let her?

The beauty contest was held in the special hall set up on the school grounds.

The student serving as MC grabbed the mic with a flourish, calling out to the gathered crowd.

“Thank you for waiting! The main event of this school festival, the school beauty contest, is about to begin! Put your hands together!”

“Yay!” “Come on!” “Get started!” “We’re here for the girls, not you!” The crowd was vocal and excited. And quite large.

“It’s gonna be extra painful when Wise self-destructs here… Poor girl.”

“I—I hope she doesn’t! I think she deserves number one!”

“What nonsense. Medhi will clearly emerge victorious. Oh-ho-ho!”

Medhimama certainly seemed confident, but well, she was probably justified in that. Masato offered up a silent prayer for Wise… At least make it quick. Don’t let Wise suffer. If that’s even possible.

So.

“First, I’ll explain how this contest will be scored. This beauty contest is not decided by a panel of judges or by formal voting but by the volume of the audience’s response! Maybe some of you are thinking, ‘By the volume? Isn’t that a little subjective?’ But don’t worry! We have specialized equipment to measure the volume accurately! Look here!”

The backstage staff pushed a cart out onto the stage.

It had a large panel on it labeled CHEER MEASURING DEVICE.

“The volume measured will be displayed digitally on this panel! Measurements will be in decibels, and that number will be the entrant’s score! Their rankings will be decided by volume alone! Which means…you guessed it! Even if only one person supports them, if they cheer loud enough, they might push their choice to victory! Isn’t that a lovely system?”

Scores in decibels. Maybe that was a good idea. Much better than everything being decided on the whim of some judges anyway.

On the other hand, if the audience didn’t have your back, nobody would cheer at all. You’d be left standing forlornly in front of a silent crowd. He wasn’t saying who, but he already felt sorry for her.

But with that, they were starting.

“Well, let’s introduce the lovely ladies who have entered! Entry number one…Medhi, the Cleric! Come on out!”

“Okay! Thank you very much!” Medhi said, sounding a little nervous.

She came running out onstage, wearing her waitress uniform. Hugging a menu tightly to her magnificent chest, her frills all flouncing. The audience was already buzzing.

Once Medhi reached the center of the stage, she bowed before the mic stand…

…a little too hastily. She bopped her head on the mic.

“Ow… S-sorry! Oooh…that’s so embarrassing…”

Medhi turned bright red all the way to her ears. She hid her face behind the menu. A moment later…

““““C​-​c​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​t​e​!””””

An explosion of moe raced across the crowd. It was deafening.

The volume was measured, and the score lit up. Ninety decibels.

The same volume as a bulldozer from five yards away. Unbearably loud.

“Whoa! Kicking things off with a huge score! The Cleric Medhi is very popular!”

“Th-thank you! Thank you very much! Um… I’m working at a café on the main street! I hope to see you all there! I’ll be waiting! Pardon me!”

Medhi was too embarrassed to stay put. She rattled off at top speed and beat a hasty retreat toward the back of the stage…but stumbled along the way. The crowd seemed even more enthusiastic about this.

Seeing her daughter showered with cheers definitely put her mother in a good mood. “Well done, Medhi! Flawless! Victory is yours!” Like she’d already won.

The MC seemed to be getting worked up himself.

“Well, she was certainly a wonderfully clumsy waitress! Thank you very much! Moving right along! Entry number two, come on out!”

“Thanks! I’m class president number two! I’m an NPC student, so I don’t have a name! But most everyone else is the same, so I don’t really care!”

She got a laugh with this self-deprecating remark, and with that, a parade of entrants came through.

They were all NPC students, with hastily slapped together ASCII faces, which made it tough to call any of them cute, exactly…but there were, like, seven of them.

The NPC entrances all got between fifty decibels (the volume of an exhaust fan from a yard away) to seventy decibels (the volume of a cicada from two yards away). Not bad, considering.

And at last, after all that buildup, it was her turn.

“Well, that sure was exciting! Let’s keep the party going! Entry number nine! The Sage Wise! Come on out!”

“Ha-ha! At last, time for the victor to shine!”

Here we go. The self-destruction expert, here to show us how it’s done. Masato clapped quietly, keeping his eyes peeled.

Wise came out in her usual outfit, an apron over it. She skipped to the center of the stage.

And when she bowed before the mic, she hit her head on it.

“Yowch! Aw, sorry! I’m such a klutz! Tee-hee!”

I’m not even kidding. She actually did that.

The result…

“““​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​…​Sigh…”””

The entire audience sighed in unison.

The volume measured was only twenty decibels. The same as leaves rustling in a breeze. That’s it.

Porta was doing her best to cheer for Wise all by herself. “Yaaay! Wiiiise!” But Masato quietly reached out and stopped her. She was just making it worse.

Masato’s heart ached for his fallen companion, but Medhimama was delighted.

“Well, that clinches it,” she murmured. “Ohhh-ho-ho-ho!”

“Yeah, it does. I can’t argue that.”

At the very least, Wise’s defeat didn’t seem to have caused a stir. The contest hall was dead quiet.

The only noise was up onstage.

“Huh?! What’s with that reaction? You all liked it when Medhi did it! You like this sort of crap, right? Why aren’t you cheering?”

“Thank you very much, Sage Wise. Please go away now.”

“Hold up, even the MC is acting bored?! And that last bit was rude!”

Wise was chased off to the end of the row of entrants at the back of the stage.

The MC took a beat to recover and turned to continue.

“Um… I’d love to try to recover the mood by introducing our next contestant, but…we actually only had these nine entrants, so…that’s all there is…”

He bowed apologetically to a chorus of boos. “What? You’re kidding!” “We can’t end like that!” “You can’t end on a downer!” Anger raged. Wise had left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. People were ready to riot.

The MC desperately tried to placate the crowd, saying, “I know! I feel the same way! We can’t let it end like this! Which means…we’re calling for last-minute entrants! Don’t care if you nominate yourself or someone else! Just come on up to the stage! Please!”

“Oh, then I don’t mind if I do!”

You already know who responded. It was Mamako.

The moment he realized this, Masato buried his head in his knees. There was no way this could possibly end well from his perspective.

Mamako was wearing an apron and holding a pot with both hands. She carried it up the stairs at the side of the stage and went over to Wise.

“Er, um, Mamako? …What’s up?”

“Well, I didn’t have enough burners at the shop, so I couldn’t warm up the miso soup. So I thought I’d ask you to use your fire magic. Do you mind?”

“Oh, um, sure. That’s easy enough. But…if you’re here, who’s in the shop?”

“We don’t need to worry about that! Shiraaase came to check in on us, and she agreed to watch it for us. Shiraaase’s a mom, too, so it’s okay.”

Masato pictured a nun in an apron standing in the kitchen, totally calm, saying, “Let me infooorm you that your food will soon be ready.”

“Are you kidding?! She’ll destroy the place! You’d better get back before the shop closes down for good!”

Wise quickly chanted a spell, Fuoco Fiamma, generating a flame on her hand. “Thanks, that’s such a help!” Mamako said, holding the pot over the flame. They stood there a minute.

The miso soup was soon simmering.

“Well? That seem about right?”

“Yes, thank you. I appreciate it. Now, then… Oh, look, there’s a microphone! I should at least plug our shop!”

Holding the piping-hot soup pot to one side, Mamako leaned into the mic.

“Hello, everyone! The miso soup is ready! It’s really hot, so I’ll make sure to blow on it for you! Come have some!”

Instantly…

“““Y​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​E​A​H​H​H​H​! A girl who can cook? So c​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​t​e​!”””

The audience was downright bellowing. The noise shook the earth.

She was hardly of an age where you’d call her a “girl” or “cute,” but with her baby face, everyone just assumed Mamako was a student here.

The number on the panel showed 120 decibels. Like standing near a jet engine. A volume that could cause hearing damage.

The MC saw these results and announced, “Wow, that decides it! It’s all over, folks! The victor is Mamako! Congratulations!”

“O-oh?”

The winner of the beauty contest was Mamako. She was officially Miss Gioco Accademia.

She was a Mrs., not a Miss, but oh well.

The shocking last-minute twist had left Medhimama practically catatonic.

And the festival itself drew to a close…

It was evening. The group stood by the gates of the school.

The festival had ended, and the students were headed home.

“Arghhhh! …I can’t believe it! What the hell?! This is ridiculous!”

Medhimama was ranting like a woman possessed. She slammed her staff into the ground. The gem shattered, and the staff broke in two.