Guess who's back. Back again.
Anyway, I kind of finished my On the job training and might be able to squeeze some time to update this. I've gathered a bit of new series to add and stuff.
I hope y'all suggest a series that I might add. I'll add Mato seihei but the only one I'll add in the harem is Mira Kamiunten and maybe Fubuki Azuma and Tobera Azuma.
As for Ren, I kinda ship her with Gojo since both of them have the Honoured one vibe. Also, Ren wins if he fights Gojo by shutting down his Infinity. But that's just my perspective.
Anyway, I was considering Adding Dean and Sam but I realize Big Chuck exist and there's a lot of reality warper there 😅.
There's also Peter Parker, I'm going to give him some advice and help the poor bastard get his deserved happy ending.
Marvel Waifu, I'm considering Emma Frost and Magic but still debatable.
I'm currently writing Oogway debating against the Jedi Council. Again I am not an expert of Star wars and solely relying on wiki and chat gpt to fill the gap.
That aside, feel free to give Series you wish to see in this series.
Also, the next couple of chapters will focus on MC and his relationship with his girls before moving on to another world.
I might do more Pov of other characters to flesh them out. For example, Naruto.
Anyway, enjoy this while I reread my shit to refresh my memory.
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- Zyon -
Soon, we made our way inside the bustling anime convention, the air filled with excitement and energy.
Cosplayers were everywhere, each person bringing their favorite characters to life, and the atmosphere was lively with all sorts of colorful costumes and creative setups. It was exactly what I had expected—an explosion of fandom and passion for anime.
As we walked through the crowded halls, Hancock was clearly taking everything in, her eyes scanning the cosplayers with a mix of intrigue and confusion.
"Zyon," she said, a hint of curiosity in her voice,
"I don't understand. Why are people dressing up as me? Isn't that strange?"
I glanced at her, noticing the way she tilted her head, almost like a curious snake studying its surroundings.
"It's really not that different from fans of any celebrity or public figure. They admire you, so they want to emulate your look."
She frowned slightly, clearly still trying to wrap her head around it.
"But... I'm not a celebrity, Zyon. I'm... well, me."
I chuckled, nudging her gently.
"Hancock, you're one of the most famous characters in one of the biggest anime in history—One Piece. It's known by nearly everyone, and you, my dear, are one of the greatest beauties in the series. People want to look like you because you're iconic. It's no different than how fans of a celebrity try to copy their look—they're just showing admiration for you."
Hancock seemed to be mulling it over, her brow furrowed as she looked around, trying to process what I'd said. Before she could respond, a voice suddenly cut through the air,
"Excuse me, miss, could I take a picture with you?"
I turned to find a young man standing just a few feet away, looking at Hancock with wide, excited eyes. He had a camera in hand, clearly eager for the opportunity to snap a photo. Hancock froze for a moment, her expression unreadable as she assessed the situation.
"I'm afraid I'm not interested in pictures," she said, her tone polite but firm, her gaze not softening.
The guy, however, didn't seem to take the hint. "Oh, come on, please? You look exactly like Boa Hancock! It would mean so much to me!"
I could see Hancock's discomfort rising, her body language becoming more tense. I stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on the guy's shoulder to get his attention.
"Hey, man, she said no. You're making her uncomfortable."
The guy blinked, startled by my sudden intervention. His eyes flickered from me to Hancock, and the realization seemed to hit him. He immediately took a step back, his face flushing with embarrassment.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—" He stammered, looking between us.
I gave him a reassuring nod.
"It's alright, just respect her space, alright?"
The guy, now flustered, apologized again before quickly backing away. I turned to Hancock, who looked relieved, though there was still a hint of confusion in her eyes.
She sighed softly.
"Thank you, Zyon. I don't understand why people act that way, but I appreciate you stepping in."
I smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of my face.
"Of course. I've got your back, always. And as for the rest of them… Well, it's just admiration, nothing more. They're not doing it to upset you."
She gave a slow nod, her gaze softening a little as she took in the crowd around us once more.
"I suppose I'm starting to understand. Still... it's a bit overwhelming."
"Yeah, it can be," I said, grinning playfully.
"But don't worry, you look amazing, Hancock. Nobody could pull off that look quite like you."
Her lips twitched into a small, pleased smile, her eyes meeting mine.
"And don't worry, no one's getting too close. I've got this." We continued walking, and as the crowd continued to buzz around us.
Eventually, Rias spotted the section where they sold manga and immediately made a beeline for it, her excitement almost contagious. I couldn't help but smile as I watched her eagerly browse the shelves, her eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store.
Just as I was about to follow her, I noticed Hancock staring intently at something. There was a strange tension in the air, and when I turned to see what had caught her attention, my eyes widened in horror.
It was a table stacked with Doujinshi—not just any, but ones featuring her.
Hancock's expression darkened instantly. Her cheeks burned red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment washing over her as she clenched her fists. Slowly, she turned to face me, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through steel.
"Zyon," she said, her voice low and dangerously calm.
"May I end the person responsible for this?"
I wryly smiled, raising my hands in a placating gesture.
"Now, now, let's not commit murder at a convention."
Her eyes narrowed.
"This is unacceptable! How dare they create such indecent images of me!"
I let out an awkward chuckle, trying my best to calm her down.
"It's, uh… a thing in this world. Popular characters—especially ones as beautiful as you—tend to get a lot of fan-made content."
She huffed, still fuming but at least not immediately going on a rampage. I gently placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
"Just ignore them. It's not really you and I know you more than them."
She glanced back at the explicit doujinshi, still visibly irritated, but at least she wasn't ready to destroy the entire booth. That was progress… right?
Hancock turned to me, her face tinged with a soft blush. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice carrying a mix of flirtation and uncertainty.
"Zyon… would you… like to do something similar?"
My mind short-circuited.
Did she just—?
I felt my face heat up, my usual composure cracking as I struggled to process her words. She was still looking at me, eyes filled with both curiosity and a hint of mischief.
I swallowed hard, forcing a smirk to hide my excitement.
"Well… I wouldn't say no."
Hancock blinked, her blush deepening as she studied my reaction. For a moment, she seemed to be lost in thought, her lips slightly parted as if she were considering something seriously.
I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but I decided it was safer not to pry. Instead, I cleared my throat and tried to steer us away from dangerous territory.
"A-Anyway, we should probably check on Rias."
Hancock took one last glance at the doujinshi before nodding, and we made our way through the crowd.
When we found Rias, she immediately perked up, holding a stack of newly bought manga in her arms.
"There you two are! What took you so—" She paused when she saw my slightly flushed face and Hancock's still-simmering frustration.
She narrowed her eyes.
"What happened?"
I awkwardly scratched the back of my head.
"Uh… Hancock found an explicit doujinshi about herself."
Rias froze, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. A deep blush spread across her face as she glanced at Hancock, who was still clearly bothered.
"T-That's… wow." Rias cleared her throat, fidgeting slightly.
"I don't even know how I'd react if I found one about me…"
Hancock crossed her arms, still pouting.
"It's an insult. The idea of my body being drawn in such a way—" She cut herself off, shooting me a quick glance before looking away.
"…is frustrating."
Rias gave her a sympathetic look, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I get it. But at the same time… it also means you're one of the most beloved characters in One Piece."
Rias you're not helping!
Hancock let out a small huff, still clearly dissatisfied, but at least she wasn't fuming anymore.
I, on the other hand, was still processing the fact that Hancock had basically just propositioned me… and that I hadn't exactly said no.
We continued walking around, taking photos and buying merch, fully immersed in the lively atmosphere of the convention. The three of us had fun, enjoying the energy of the event and the excitement of seeing so many passionate fans.
Then, as we turned a corner, I suddenly stopped.
My eyes landed on a massive poster hanging above one of the booths. The image was vibrant and full of life, showcasing a girl with dazzling starry eyes, a radiant smile, and an almost ethereal presence.
Her long, flowing hair shimmered under the convention lights, and her expression carried that signature mix of playfulness and mystery—an allure that could captivate thousands with a single glance.
She was an idol. And not just any idol.
She was someone I once knew. Someone I loved even now.
Ai Hoshino.
For a brief moment, memories rushed back—her laughter, her voice, the way she effortlessly commanded the stage like she was born to shine. But just as quickly as the nostalgia came, I pushed it aside, a small smile forming on my lips.
"Looks like she's back in the spotlight," I murmured before turning away, leaving the past where it belonged.
"Zyon?" Rias called, noticing my pause.
I shook my head slightly, brushing off whatever emotions had surfaced.
"Nothing," I said, giving the poster one last glance before walking ahead.
========
- Zyon -
I was doing my usual routine…once again the restaurant was empty and quiet. Claire sat in the corner keeping watch while Kie and Hancock checked the place for any spot that needed cleaning.
Until the doorbell rang and a new customer arrived. It was three people, two young women and one elderly man who reminded me of Hayato. They appear curious with one who was a fair-skinned girl with short, silver hair that has a longer left hair strand where it initially reaches the bottom of her chin. She seems rather excited while the other girl appears more…arrogant?
She has purple-pinkish eyes and long, honey-blonde hair that flows just above her lower back. Her side bangs partially cross her cheeks and go down all the way to her neck.
I welcomed them as they took their seats, offering a polite smile while asking for their order. The elderly man looked at me with a sharp yet curious gaze before asking.
"Are you the owner?"
I nodded.
"Yes, and also the chef."
At that, the honey-blonde girl beside him turned toward her grandfather with uncertainty in her golden eyes.
"Are you sure about this, Grandfather? This place is completely unheard of."
Her words made me frown slightly. Was she doubting my skills?
Before I could say anything, the short-haired girl beside her chuckled and playfully nudged the blonde.
"Come on, Erina, trust Grandfather's judgment for once."
So, her name was Erina.
The old man stroked his beard, studying me for a moment before finally speaking.
"Prepare the best dish you can make. Something you take pride in."
I paused, my instincts telling me that this wasn't an ordinary request. His presence alone carried an air of experience—one that belonged to someone who had spent years in the culinary world. A professional.
Understanding the weight of his words, I nodded and gave a confident reply.
"Please wait a moment."
With that, I turned and headed straight to the kitchen, ready to show them exactly what I was capable of.
I took a deep breath and focused, my hands moving with practiced ease as I gathered the ingredients. Hancock and Kie watched curiously from the side, sensing the shift in my demeanor.
I decided to make a dish that carried deep meaning to me—one that brought comfort and warmth, a meal I often ate in my past life. It wasn't extravagant or complex, but it was something special, something made with love.
I started by preparing the rice, washing it carefully until the water ran clear before setting it to cook. As the grains softened, I moved to the stove, heating a pan with just the right amount of oil. The gentle sizzle filled the air as I sautéed finely chopped onions, their fragrance blending with the rich aroma of garlic.
Next came the protein—tender pieces of chicken, marinated in a simple yet flavorful blend of soy sauce, a dash of mirin, and a hint of ginger. As they seared to golden perfection, I added broth, allowing the flavors to meld into something heartwarming.
While the dish simmered, I carefully cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them lightly before pouring them over the bubbling mixture. The eggs slowly set, creating delicate ribbons that intertwined with the sauce.
Finally, I plated everything over the steaming rice, garnishing with freshly chopped scallions and a sprinkle of nori for added depth.
I stepped back, gazing at the meal with a quiet sense of nostalgia. This wasn't just food—it was a piece of my past, a memory of warmth and love from the family I once had.
My dish was finished. I brought the food and they instantly smelled the rich aroma of the food. Erina hesitated while the white haired girl excitedly tasted it along with her grandfather.
"Mhmmmh~❤️ Hyaah~❤️"
The white haired girl moaned as if she was having an orgasm while The old man unexpectedly stripped! What the hell!?
"...uhmm…did you put anything weird in their food?" Kie asked and nervously asked to see the display before them.
"...I don't think so?" Why did they react like that?
Erina finally took a bite and her reaction was the same!
"I believe Zyon-sama simply has divine cooking skill." Hancock complimented nodding to herself.
Soon, the elderly man, his expression serious yet appreciative, turned to me. His eyes were piercing as he considered the dish carefully, no doubt evaluating each component with the precision of a professional chef. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"Your dish…" he began, his voice measured and firm.
"It is simple, yes, but the balance of flavors is impeccable. The rice is tender, the chicken perfectly cooked, and the broth has a depth that is rare to find in such a dish. I can see the care you put into it, and that speaks volumes."
He took a deep breath, clearly weighing his next words.
"However…" he continued, a hint of a smile forming at the corner of his lips.
"The dish could benefit from just a touch more seasoning, perhaps a hint more acidity to balance the richness. But that's a minor thing. Overall, this is a dish made with skill and heart."
I nodded, grateful for his feedback. He didn't sugarcoat things, but I respected his opinion. His words held weight, and I'd take them to heart for the future.
The white-haired girl beside him beamed, her face still flushed with the intensity of her reaction. She took another bite, almost savoring it as if she were in a trance.
"This is incredible!" she exclaimed, her voice breathless.
"I've never tasted anything quite like it. It's so comforting, so… full of love. I could eat this every day!"
I smiled, grateful for her enthusiastic praise. It was always rewarding to know that my food had made an impression.
Erina, on the other hand, sat in silence, her golden eyes focused on the dish in front of her. She seemed lost in thought, her lips pursed as she mulled over the meal. I waited, sensing her hesitation.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Erina took a small bite. She chewed slowly, her gaze never leaving the plate. For a moment, I thought she wasn't going to say anything. But then, she set her utensils down, her expression unreadable.
"This dish is…" she started, her voice cool and controlled.
"Better than I expected."
She didn't seem one to give compliments lightly, but there was a subtle change in her tone that made it clear she appreciated the dish. She wasn't about to admit it openly, but I could tell she was impressed.
I smiled at her, trying to ease the tension.
"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty."
She nodded, her usual composed demeanor returning.
Hancock, watching the scene unfold, couldn't help but smile herself.
"I told you, Zyon, your cooking is divine."
I chuckled, grateful for her support.
"Thank you all for your kind words," I said, bowing slightly.
"It means a lot to me."
The old man, still in his thoughtful state, stood up, offering a respectful nod.
"You've done well, Zyon. I can see why your establishment is becoming known. Keep refining your craft, and I'm sure you'll only grow stronger."
I bowed once more, feeling a sense of pride swell within me.
"I will. Thank you for the advice." Then the old man stroked his beard.
"Say, are you interested in becoming a culinary teacher?" The old man asked and I shook my head.
"I don't mind helping but I'd rather stay in my restaurant."
Hearing this, the old man didn't press further and simply smiled.
"A shame, but I can see that you are more suited here than pursuing the path of a high-class chef. However, I have a proposition for you," he said, his gaze sharp yet respectful.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'm listening."
"Before that, allow me to introduce myself. I am Senzaemon Nakiri, the Director of Tōtsuki Culinary Academy, and these two are my granddaughters, Alice and Erina." He gestured towards the prideful blonde beside him.
Erina, huh?
Nakiri… That name instantly triggered something in my mind. Could it be? No, it had to be a coincidence. Nakiri clan is one of The Five Principles clan, but they were known for their combat and strategic expertise, not cooking. Still, the connection made me wary.
"I would like to ask if you would be willing to visit our school? Perhaps even judge the students."
I blinked, processing his words.
It appears that Tōtsuki was one of the most prestigious culinary academies in the world—legends were born there. For someone like Senzaemon, an expert who had likely seen thousands of incredible chefs, to offer me such an invitation… It meant something.
My dish had truly impressed him.
The thought of stepping into that kind of environment was both exciting and unnerving. I had built a peaceful life here, away from unnecessary competition, yet now, an opportunity was presenting itself.
Could I really turn it down?