Loid had survived bomb threats, biochemical warfare, and a cartel's tiger pit (twice).
NT: It's Sarcasm
But nothing in his extensive tactical training had prepared him for The Great Eden Fathers' Barbecue.
[New Mission: Operation "Grill & Gain Intel."]
[Primary Objective: Infiltrate Desmond's Inner Circle.]
[Secondary Objective: Don't Burn the Sausages. Or Your Cover.]
It started with a polite, handwritten note sent via Eden Academy's "Parent Engagement Society."Decorative gold lettering. Delicate calligraphy. The subtle, smiling threat of upper-class obligation.
You are cordially invited to the Annual Eden Fathers' Barbecue.
Attire: Casual Authority.
Meats will be judged.So will you.
Anya read it aloud like a royal decree.
"Barbecue of the faaaathers!"
Yor looked up from polishing a throwing pin. "Should I help season anything?"
"I think this is… strictly paternal," Loid said, already regretting every decision that brought him here.
"Can I come too?" Anya asked.
"No."
"But what if you get lost in the smoke and sadness?"
"I'll leave breadcrumbs."
Event Location: Eden Faculty Courtyard.
The air was thick with meat, smoke, and testosterone.
Fathers stood around grills like generals at war, each guarding his sacred slab of steak with a pair of tongs and a haunted past. Aprons flapped in the breeze—some emblazoned with family crests, others with ominous slogans like "GRILL OR BE GRILLED."
Loid adjusted his own apron. It was plain, black, and perfectly folded.
He would not be outdone.
[Mission Update: Key Targets Identified – Elite Fathers Group "The Char Assembly."]
[Status: Closed Circle. Access Gated by Mutual Respect, Expensive Rib Rubs, and a History of Successful Brooding.]
Among them: Desmond's Inner Circle.
Politicians. Strategists. Financial moguls.
And at the center of it all, flipping ribs with robotic precision:
Donovan Desmond himself.
Loid approached slowly, letting the scent of mesquite do the opening work.
"Mind if I join the flame?" he said smoothly, spatula in hand.
One man—a heavyset banker with angry eyebrows—snorted. "Hope you brought your own wood."
"I did." He unzipped a bag.
Inside: A perfectly packed bundle of applewood chips pre-soaked in a blend of citrus and vinegar.
Desmond raised a brow.
[Char Assembly Member #3: Mildly Impressed.]
[Loid's Grill Credibility: 16%. Goal to Enter Circle: 60%.]
Loid's steak sizzled.
The banker flipped his with all the subtlety of a hydraulic crane.
Another man tried to one-up him with a "whiskey barrel smoke ring" technique that required goggles and a fire extinguisher.
Desmond, silent and precise, added no seasoning to his meat.
Just salt. Like a man who trusted nothing and no one.
[System Advice: Match Simplicity. Counter with a Reverse-Sear + Citrus Glaze Finish.]
Loid did exactly that.
The sizzle was glorious. Several fathers turned. The smell hit the air like a declaration of subtle dominance.
Desmond spoke.
"…Interesting choice. Citrusy."
"It balances the wood," Loid said. "But I don't overpower the meat. Good ingredients speak for themselves."
A long pause.
Then—
Desmond nodded.
Loid had just passed The Meat Test.
[Achievement Unlocked: Grilling With the Enemy.]
[Desmond Inner Circle Access: 61% – Casual Conversations Enabled.]
The conversation turned slow and deliberate.
Stocks. Foreign policy. School curriculum.
Then Desmond turned to Loid and asked:
"And what does your daughter hope to become?"
Loid didn't blink.
"She wants to be a spy," he said honestly.
A silence settled like falling ash.
Then Desmond chuckled.
"Aren't they all," he muttered.
[Desmond Suspicion Level: 0%. You Are Now Seen As Just Another Exhausted Parent With Dangerous Hobbies.]
An hour later, the judging began.
Loid's steak? Second place.
Desmond's steak? First.
The banker's steak? Still bleeding and possibly sentient.
But Loid didn't care about the score.
He'd gotten what he came for.
A contact point. A thread. A future conversation.
Operation Strix just moved one level deeper.
Back home, Anya launched herself at him like a tactical pillow.
"DID YOU GRILL THE ENEMY?!"
"I infiltrated," he said, sitting heavily on the couch. "Made contact. Didn't die."
"Sounds like a win," Yor said, sipping tea.
"Can I be in the next mission?" Anya asked. "I wanna be Steak Bait!"
"…We'll talk about it."
[Bond Increase: Family – +2. Operation Strix Progress – +10%. System Note: Your apron now carries the scent of success and smoked paprika.]
That night, Loid hung the second-place steak ribbon inside the cupboard behind the plates.
Not because he cared.
But because Anya said it made her "feel safer knowing Papa is good at meat-based diplomacy."
And somehow…
That made it worth it.
---
NT: The supposed heart of iron fell so quickly? Wow, I didn't expect that.