Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 690

Chapter 690 155.1 - Case of a breakfast

Meanwhile, Astron strolled into the Emberheart kitchen with his usual composed air, taking in the pristine countertops and sleek design. He wasn't surprised to see the space was immaculate-untouched, even. It was clear that no one here had ever truly cooked a meal.

'Figures, he thought. Considering the fact that, Irina was that kind of a girl, he could understand it.

'Hmm?"

Yet just then, to his surprise, he saw that the fridge was stocked. Fresh vegetables, neatly packaged cuts of meat, an array of sauces and spices-all of it was there, ready to be used. It was almost too perfect, as though someone had gone out of their way to ensure it looked well-prepared, even if it had never been touched.

"This wasn't just stocked by her staff, he noted, a flicker of curiosity passing through his mind. His curl of mouth widened slightly as he began pulling out ingredients- eggs, bread, some fresh herbs, and a bit of cheese. It didn't matter why the fridge was stocked; what mattered was that he had the tools he needed.

As he moved efficiently through the kitchen, his thoughts wandered briefly back to Phantom's Land. The memory of Irina and Sylvie sitting uselessly by the fire as he prepared their meals brought a quiet chuckle to his lips. He could still remember Irina's defiant glare as she begrudgingly ate the food he'd made, clearly hating that she had to rely on him.

'She hated it then,' he thought, cracking an egg into a bowl with practiced ease. 'But I wonder if she'll admit she's looking forward to it now.'

He had been seeing quite a lot of amusing things recently, and it appeared that this one was one of those.

******

Back in her room, Irina stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and clinging lightly to her shoulders. The heat of the water had washed away the grime and tension from last night, leaving her feeling refreshed. She wrapped a towel around herself, pausing for a moment as she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Her cheeks were still faintly pink, though whether it was from the heat of the shower or the lingering embarrassment from earlier, she wasn't sure.

'He better not mess this up, she thought, her competitive streak flaring as she dried herself off and began getting dressed. The memory of Phantom's Land returned unbidden, and she found herself smiling faintly as she recalled the taste of the food Astron had made back then.

As Trina finished drying her hair and began getting dressed, a faint, tantalizing aroma

wafted into her room. Her movements stilled, her senses sharpening as the scent grew stronger. It was unmistakable-the scent of something cooking, something fresh and

warm.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she turned her head toward the partially open door. 'The door... I didn't close it?' she realized, her cheeks flushing slightly at her carelessness. But that thought was quickly overshadowed by recognition.

'Wait... this scent... isn't this..."

Her heart skipped a beat as the realization struck her. He's making-?Her mind raced to put a name to the dish.

'Fried herb patties."

The simple, unassuming meal was something she rarely had the opportunity to enjoy. It was a dish loved by common folks-crispy and golden on the outside, with a savory filling of finely chopped herbs, spices, and a hint of melted cheese. It was hearty and unpretentious, the kind of food that didn't belong in high-end restaurants or the refined meals served at the academy.

Irina had tasted it only three times in her life, and each of those moments was etched deeply into her memory.

The first time was during a rare outing with "him" even before she had been admitted to the academy.

Irina remembered sneaking a bite of the street vendor's patties, her eyes widening at the explosion of flavor.

'Ah....'

And as those memories were brought back, she naturally remembered about a certain someone as well.

The second time was far more personal. She had been with "him", as well - certain someone from her childhood who had a knack for dragging her out of her comfort

zone.

They'd sneaked away to explore a bustling village market, and he had insisted on buying the patties for her. She could still remember the way he'd grinned at her as she reluctantly took the first bite, only to devour the rest in minutes. It was one of the few times she'd allowed herself to let go, to enjoy something without the weight of expectations pressing down on her.

The third and final time was shortly after his absence. She had been alone, wandering through the same market, hoping to find a taste of that fleeting happiness again. She'd bought the patties herself, but they hadn't tasted the same. The warmth, the laughter --it was missing. And though the flavor had been there, the memory left a bittersweet ache in her chest.

And now... now that same aroma was filling her senses once again, pulling her back through time.

Her breath hitched as she tightened the sash of her robe, and she stepped quickly toward the door. 'Really....This is driving me crazy....

Irina tugged at the sash of her robe, her steps quick and purposeful as she headed toward the kitchen. Her thoughts swirled with a mix of frustration and unease. 'I don't want to think about those memories,' she told herself firmly. 'They don't bring anything good.'

Yet no matter how hard she tried to suppress them, the feelings lingered. The laughter, the warmth, the sense of fleeting freedom-they gnawed at the edges of her mind, refusing to be buried.