“This … this I, this kind of thing, this kind of thing …!”
He was supposed to be perfect at everything, but cooking seemed to be his only weakness.
The shock was so great that he was nodding off like someone who had dropped his wallet.
Leopin wondered if there was any way to restore Weiss and the soup.
He looks around the kitchen and sees something.
“Hey, why don’t you let me handle this?”
Leopin grabbed some leftover bread from the corner of the kitchen and threw it in a basket.
Weiss looked at Leopin blankly with a pale face.
Leopin, that’s black bread that the servants eat. Leopin, that’s black bread that the servants eat, and it’s tickly and dried out, so it’s leftovers that even the servants don’t eat.
“Yes, but this is better.”
Leopin went to the kitchen table and used a meat cleaver to cut up the dried out bread.
He diced the bread and topped it with the bright red soup.
“It should taste just right now.”
Weiss was the son of a prominent family of wise men, a son of the upper class, so to speak.
He was the son of a wise family, an upper class man who would never eat cheap black bread, even if it was freshly baked, as it was considered low class food.
But this time, he was different.
“Are you sure?”
Although he was skeptical, his curiosity was piqued, and he willingly ate the soup with black bread.
Then, his eyes sparkled through his glasses.
The bread is soft and tender, the soup is soaked in it, and it’s sweet and sour!
All at once, the soup from the bloody pond of hell became like wine that angels want a share of!
“That’s great, Leopin! Is this your idea, too?”
“In the favelas, they get black bread that no one eats anymore, and soak it in water and eat it.
Then I thought soup would be even better, so I tried it. …… Yes, it’s delicious!”