"I am a Chef," Liam replied, his eyes tracking the unconscious assassin on the floor. "And a Vanguard. If they want to label me a ’player,’ they should check my stats. My Charisma is average. My Stamina, however..." he smirked, breathing deeply into her neck.

That sent a shiver down her spine,

He let the sentence hang. Not on purpose, he’d been about to say his Stamina was his highest stat and that people consistently undervalued endurance builds, which was a legitimate tactical complaint he’d had since the start.

But Elizabeth’s grip on his shirt tightened. Her knuckles pressed into his chest, five small points of contact burning through the fabric. The flush on her face deepened from pink to red, crawling down her neck and disappearing beneath her armour collar.

He breathed in. Strawberry and steel, closer now. The muscle along his jaw flexed.

"Your stamina, what?" she said flatly, alluringly and dangerously.

"My stamina’s off the charts," he murmured, his hand sliding up her back, fingers digging into the leather straps of her gear. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together in the cramped room, the heat of her flush radiating through his shirt. God, she was fire under that cool exterior.

"And in this game, that’s the stat everyone underestimates until it’s too late." His hand found its way up her back, fingers tracing the rough texture of the leather straps that held her gear in place. He yanked her closer. The intensity of his gaze held hers captive as he let his statement hang in the air, a silent promise wrapped in a warm, Elizabeth’s cool facade cracked as a soft gasp escaped her lips, her breath hot and ragged against Liam’s neck. Liam felt her pulse hammer wildly where their hips ground together, her arousal evident in the damp warmth radiating from between her thighs. He hauled her flush against him, his free hand tangling in her hair to tilt her head back, exposing the elegant line of her throat.hroat.

Suddenly, a loud THUD echoed from the rafters.

A female figure in dark leather, masked and armed, fell headfirst from the ceiling, crashing onto the kitchen table before sliding onto the floor in a heap. She was unconscious, her nose bleeding, her eyes rolled back.

The silence after the assassin’s crash was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic ’tick tiss’ of Liam’s stove cooling down.

Elizabeth was still arched back under his arm, her pulse thundering against his skin. She stared up at him, her lips parted, waiting for the "Stamina" comment to turn into something else. Her world was spinning, her arousal battling with the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Liam, however, was looking at the unconscious girl on the floor with the same intensity he’d used to study the Serpent’s fat marbling.

"The Dragon-Slayer Aura must have a localised stun effect," Liam noted, his voice returning to that deep, clinical rumble. He didn’t let go of Elizabeth immediately. His grip was still firm, still dominant, but the predatory heat in his eyes had shifted back to "Analyse Mode."

He finally took a bite of the Omurice from his spoon, chewing slowly as he stared at the intruder. "Relatable, sometimes I feel like fainting when the seasoning is just right, too."

Elizabeth’s face went from a heated flush to a stunned, twitching mask of disbelief. "You... you were talking about build stats?"

"What else would I be talking about?" Liam asked. He reached out with the spoon, holding a perfect, golden bite toward her. "Eat your hands are shaking your glucose levels are dropping from the combat adrenaline."

Elizabeth wanted to scream. She wanted to bite him. But the aroma of the egg was a physical force, a siren song for her feline instincts. She leaned in, snapping the bite off the spoon with a ferocity that almost took his thumb off.

The moment the [Divine Serpent Omurice] hit her tongue, the world went quiet. It wasn’t just food; it was an explosion of mana that flooded her system like high-octane egg fuel.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

Elizabeth has consumed [Divine Serpent Omurice].

Effect: Permanent Agility +5. All ’Fatigue’ debuffs cleared.

Status: [Blood-Bonded Favour] — Her loyalty to the Chef has deepened. (Warning: Side effects include localised jealousy and sudden cravings.

"Oh my god," Elizabeth whispered, her tail giving a sudden, involuntary fluff. The anger drained out of her, replaced by a warm, honey-like glow that settled in her bones. "Liam... this is..."

"Optimal," Liam finished.

He finally released her, stepping over to the unconscious assassin. He grabbed the girl by the back of her leather collar, hoisting her up with one hand like a discarded sack of flour.

"She’s from that Ruby Eyed Guild," Liam said, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a crimson trinket on her belt. "A Shadow walker level 40. They didn’t send a warrior to face me; they sent a thief to steal the ingredients."

He looked back at Elizabeth, who was currently licking a stray drop of iridescent yolk from her lip. Liam’s nostrils flared, his [Boiler] heat spiking for a fraction of a second before he slammed his mental shutters closed.

"Go get dressed," Liam commanded, his voice dropping into that "Alpha" register that brooked no argument. "I’m going to wake her up. I want to know why they think they can enter my kitchen without an invitation and if she doesn’t have a good explanation..."

He looked at his heavy meat cleaver resting on the counter.

"...I’ve been looking for someone to test the ’Durability’ of the Serpent Scale leather skin on. A Level 40 Rogue should have just enough HP to survive the calibration."

[SYSTEM TOOLTIP: THE ALPHA’S KITCHEN]

[Condition]: Elizabeth is officially ’Addicted’ to your cooking. [Status]: The assassin is waking up, and she has 2 HP and a very confused heart rate.

[Liam’s Internal Logic]:

Stamina is definitely my best stat.

The assassin’s leather gear looks like a high-tier crafting material. Maybe I can salvage some.

Elizabeth’s tail is 15% fluffier when she’s fed, noted.

[Goddess Hestia’s Note]: "HE STOPPED?! Liam, you beautiful, oblivious brick! The ’Stamina’ bait just tripled our subscription revenue! Don’t kill the assassin yet; if she’s Level 40, she’s expensive. Let’s see if we can turn her into a ’Sous-Chef’ (or a maid)!