Feasting Lord in Another World

The room assigned to Dominic wasn't extravagantly opulent, but it was meticulously arranged in a traditional style, fitting for a guest bedroom.

The bed appeared exceptionally comfortable at first glance, yet Dominic had a nagging suspicion that it might prove to be deceiving.

'I need to formulate a dietary plan...'

It wasn't that he had never devised dietary plans for patients before. After initially obtaining his nutritionist license and before working at a school, he had spent approximately a year working at a hospital cafeteria. He was confident in his ability to provide dietary options, including low-sodium choices.

'But I lack experience with VIPs. This is causing me considerable stress.'

This was the issue at hand.

Dominic had always organized group meals; he had never provided personalized nutritional counseling for VIPs.

[Is it different dealing with VIPs?]

[Of course, you don't have to think about the cost of ingredients. You only need to focus on the nutritional balance. It's not a mass meal, so you don't have to worry about the cooking method either. Actually, in a cafeteria, you need to match the budget, please the chefs; it's kinda tough, right?]

[True. Then it should be easy?]

[Not entirely. The expectations for quality are different. If you spend that much money and the meal is no different from school food, you'd get fired immediately. It's like walking on a tightrope.]

One of his colleagues, who earned a six-figure salary, had provided dietary consultations for VIPs. If Dominic had known it would come to this, he would have inquired for more details, a regret that was now eating away at him.

But he couldn't dwell on regret forever.

'First of all, fatty parts are off the table. Alcohol is also obviously a no-go... I wonder if they like vegetables. Hmm.'

Sitting at a gleaming, polished mahogany desk, Dominic was about to seek assistance when he opted to leave the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Ah, you surprised me! You're still here? ... The whole time?"

"Lord has instructed me to serve you day and night."

Upon opening the door, a young knight, who appeared to be of the same age as Dominic, was standing like a statue, fully armed.

'This isn't service; it's surveillance.'

However, he couldn't voice his thoughts. After all, the law is distant, but a fist is near.

Suppressing his startled heartbeat with both hands, he spoke.

"I need to know about Lord's lifestyle and health status to plan the diet. I was thinking of meeting the attending physician or the chef in charge. Ah, I also need the opinions of the servants..."

"Impossible."

"...Excuse me?"

"Everything you mentioned is highly confidential and related to the Lord. You, as an outsider, neither need nor are allowed to know."

"But..."

"Know your place."

There was no getting through to this guy.

The knight looked like he could be the center of an idol group with his handsome face, but the cold aura he exuded made Dominic realize you can't judge a book by its cover.

"Still, I was asked to prepare a meal plan..."

"That was likely not a serious request from the Lord. Probably just a precaution. All you need to do is prepare a healthy menu and send it to the kitchen."

"...Fine."

Although not satisfied, Dominic couldn't push it further.

With Lord out of sight, annoying this blond knight served no purpose.

'Well, if anything goes wrong later, it's all his fault.'

As he was organizing his thoughts to turn around,

"How could food possibly cure any illness? Really..."

The knight must have been mumbling to himself, but in the empty hallway, Dominic couldn't help but overhear.

A thick vein popped on Dominic's forehead.

In his previous life, where male nutritionists were rare, he had often faced belittlement.

Even though he had graduated in food and nutrition and acquired his license through sleepless nights of study, the only responses he received were ignorant questions like, 'Isn’t that a job for housewives?'

Some people used to make snide comments in front of him, saying, 'Why do you need a license for something like this when you're just shuffling side dishes around?'

The treatment wasn't great either.

Was it because it was not considered an essential job? Or did they think that anyone could do it?

'I was even asked to work part-time at my last job.'

Dominic couldn't forget the face of the manager who suggested that he work as a part-time employee for just 3 hours during lunchtime, citing poor company conditions.

'Would you work a job that pays 800,000 won a month?' He wanted to fire back, but his mouth was sealed. All he could do was bow and say, 'Yes, I understand.'

Dominic felt invalidated by the words of the blonde knight, who likely meant no harm. It touched a nerve.

"Sir Knight."

'...?'

As Dominic stood up straight and met his eyes without flinching, the young knight also changed his demeanor as if acknowledging him as a conversation partner.

It was as if he was saying, 'Go ahead and say what you want to say.'

"Would you change your mind if I actually improved the Lord's condition with just this food?"

"What?"

"A meal may be just a meal for someone, but for another, it could be a life-changing meal."

"You're right. To the hungry, a piece of bread is irreplaceable. I didn't mean to mock them; I was just saying that food cannot be medicine."

His tone softened, but he still didn’t think food could heal.

'This world seems to lack basic knowledge in nutrition.'

Dominic realized that he had never heard about carbs, fats, or calories in this life. The level of education among those around him had been low, but it seemed that this lack of knowledge was widespread.

"Anyway, I intend to follow the Lord's orders and do my best. Do not interfere."

"Your tone seems to have become rude."

"No, it hasn't."

"Tsk."

Dominic’s tone had indeed lost its polite edge. There was a noticeable tension.

'Why am I being so submissive? He's just a knight. I am a guest of the Lord.'

Despite being under 24-hour surveillance, he was technically a guest of the Lord.

"I'm going to the kitchen."

"That's not possible."

"Then please ask the Lord. If it's just your personal decision, I won't comply."

"What?"

"I’m following the Lord's orders, as I mentioned. I intend to do my best."

The knight pondered for a moment but soon nodded, straightening his posture.

"I told you, don’t regret it."

"Of course. Shall we go?"

"...?"

"You need to guide me. How would I know what's where?"

"It's on the first floor, to the far left."

Dominic quickly returned to the room to grab a pen and paper for notes. It was a bit cumbersome, but it couldn't be helped.

"Repeating myself, going to the kitchen will be futile."

"Yes, yes."

"The chefs won't share their recipes, even at knifepoint. You won't learn much."

"Oh, that's a big problem."

The knight seemed genuinely concerned, but Dominic responded with a lackluster tone.

'What is he trying to do? Tsk, got myself into a troublesome situation.'

Somewhat offended by Dominic's attitude, the blonde knight internally clicked his tongue.

He seemed to have some reputation, but he looked no older than him, probably just a village chief from a small town.

It was hard to believe that this person could hold the key to curing the Lord's illness, which even the famous healers in the vicinity had failed to treat.

Moreover, this young village chief pointed out that the cause of the master's illness was food.

'Surely it was fatty meat, right? Then there must be a problem with the chef's recipe. Could it be poison?... No, if it were poison, it wouldn't have gone unnoticed. So is this person just a scam artist?'

If Dominic had heard the knight's thoughts, he would have beaten his chest in frustration.

The young knight still couldn't understand that perfectly good food could harm the body.

"Quack doctor?"

"Ah, no, you misunderstand, chef."

Pushing the knight's confusion aside, the first person Dominic encountered as he went to the kitchen was that very chef who had been grilling the tripe.

"I thought the young village chief got into trouble because you were taken by the knights."

"Isn't the fact that I'm safe proof that I'm not a quack doctor?"

"Well, true. But why are you here?"

The misunderstanding was cleared up in an instant.

"I've been tasked with overseeing the Lord's diet for a while."

However, the kitchen's atmosphere instantly turned icy at Dominic's words.

They thought this young guy had stolen their position.

"Don't misunderstand! The chef's position remains the same! I'm simply responsible for determining which ingredients suit the Lord and which do not."

"...Really?"

"Aye, don’t misunderstand. I'm your assistant, in charge of, what’s it called, ingredient management."

"Hmm, under me?"

"Yes, let’s put it that way."

"Good, then there's no problem!"

Finally, the chef took his knife out of the cutting board.

'Kitchen politics are the same everywhere, ugh!'

If he had asked for the recipe of all the food the Lord has eaten so far, or said he would personally prepare and serve the food, he would have been beaten senseless.

A command from above is a command, and kitchen order is kitchen order, as the rule goes.

"But ingredients that don’t suit the Lord, what are those? Do such things exist?"

At the chef's words, Dominic grinned.

"Of course. People have different constitutions, after all."

Not only the chef but also the blonde knight, who had been standing with his arms crossed as if uninterested, seemed to take a sneaky glance.