A few hours ago.
In the Gun Factory, inside a small warehouse that had been temporarily converted into a studio.
It was simply divided into two parts by wooden boards. One part was a pure workspace, where Lorne drew blueprints and handcrafted firearms.
The other part was a makeshift living area, stacked with some basic daily necessities, a few changes of clothes, and even a small gas stove and a set of basic kitchenware.
After all, he sometimes had to discuss business in his office, and it was inappropriate to pile these personal items there.
What made Lorne feel incredibly surprised and delighted today was that he had actually found rice in the market. God knows how excited he was when he saw that familiar white grain.
It turned out that there was rice in Backlund; he just hadn't specifically looked for it before.
Since crossing over, he had been eating bread every day until he was about to vomit. The texture of black bread, which was comparable to a brick, went without saying, and even the oat bread, which tasted decent, made one feel incredibly tired of it after eating too much.
Although the variety of rice in this world seemed a bit different from the one before he crossed over, with longer grains, it was rice nonetheless!
The only fly in the ointment was that there was a small mistake in the process of steaming the rice, making the rice at the bottom of the pot slightly burnt.
"Sigh, there are no rice cookers in this era, and steaming rice with a gas stove is quite troublesome."
Looking at the slightly yellow layer of scorched rice at the bottom of the pot, Lorne felt a bit of heartache, but he immediately comforted himself.
"Forget it, burnt rice is still rice—"
"Besides, this small gas stove is quite convenient to use."
He turned around and looked at the pile of ingredients stacked on the cutting board on the other side. Today, in order to verify a flash of inspiration in his mind, he had been busy for the whole afternoon. Now, it was time to cook a delicious meal to reward himself.
Tomato scrambled eggs, shredded potatoes with vinegar and chili, chili stir-fried meat—
He had originally wanted to make pork with minced garlic, but the garlic he bought had been used up for his experiments in the afternoon.
Looking at the three dishes and one bowl of rice on the small table, Lorne was almost moved to tears. He picked up the only tableware, a soup spoon, and impatiently shoveled a large mouthful of rice and vegetables into his mouth.
—
"Hmm—the taste is okay, but—"
Lorne chewed, feeling that these dishes tasted slightly different from the ones in his memory.
"Is it because of the ingredients and seasonings? Or is it the tableware—" The reason he used a spoon was mainly because he couldn't find chopsticks, and he couldn't find suitable wood to carve a pair for the time being.
Moreover, he wasn't very good at cooking to begin with, and after crossing over for so long, he had basically not cooked at all. Being able to not ruin these ingredients was already quite good.
Forget it—beggars can't be choosers.
Although there were some flaws, it was, after all, the long-lost taste of home.
Just as Lorne was gorging himself, enjoying this rare delicacy, his spiritual intuition was gently touched.
"Uh—Teacher Sharon?" He stopped his movements and tentatively asked the empty corner.
"It's me."
Sharon's iconic cold and ethereal voice came from behind him. The next second, her figure, wearing a complex black Gothic court dress and a small soft hat, appeared in the air.
"It's class time."
Lorne looked up at this uninvited "Wraith" teacher, still holding the spoon stained with rice grains.
It seemed that was indeed the case; there was a class tonight. But this stealthy way of appearing still made him feel a bit—
"You didn't seem to greet me?" Lorne raised his head. "There are no windows here," Sharon answered concisely.
"The door was open too."
"Uh—" Lorne was speechless for a moment.
To let the smell of cooking dissipate, he had indeed opened the warehouse door, and this temporary studio indeed had no windows.
"What are you doing?" Sharon's gaze fell on the small table in front of Lorne and she asked.
"As you can see, I'm cooking and eating." Lorne pointed to the dishes with decent presentation in front of him. "Would you like to join me?"
"I can go without food for two weeks." There was no fluctuation in Sharon's voice, but her gaze lingered on the dishes for a moment, and she muttered to herself: "A dish I've never seen before."
Seeing that Sharon had no interest, Lorne shrugged. In fact, for him, although he couldn't go without eating for two weeks like a "Wraith", he could still go without food for four or five days. Gourmet food was more of a psychological need and enjoyment.
"These are all rare delicacies," he said with some complacency while eating, then laughed at himself, "Although with my current level, it is indeed quite average."
He swallowed the food in his mouth and joked, "However, if someone could make me such a table of dishes every day in the future, I would probably fall in love with that person without hesitation."
After speaking, he continued to lower his head and focus on the rice in the bowl. Class could be taken later, but he couldn't skip a meal.
Hmm? Why does it feel—the atmosphere is suddenly a bit strange—Lorne's eating movement paused abruptly.
He turned his head blankly and found that Sharon had fallen from the air at some point and was standing behind him, her blue eyes staring unblinkingly at him and the nearly empty dishes in front of him.
"Sha—Teacher Sharon?" Lorne asked tentatively.
Sharon didn't answer immediately, still maintaining that focused observational posture, as if she was studying something.
"With someone staring at me, I can't eat," he said again.
This time Sharon finally reacted. She leaned down slightly, brought her exquisite face to Lorne, looked at the sitting Lorne at eye level, and then asked in a cold but serious tone: "Can I try it?"
"Ye-Yes." Lorne nodded slightly blankly.
"I'll go get you a clean spoon."
Watching Lorne's back as he got up, Sharon glanced at the position Lorne had just sat in, pondered for two seconds, and then silently floated to the opposite side of the table and sat down quietly.
"The taste is peculiar—but not bad."
After tasting each dish in small bites, Sharon gave such an evaluation.
Not bad, not good—Lorne understood. He hadn't cooked for a long time, and considering the taste differences in this world, getting this evaluation was already quite good.
"I feel you are a bit tired today."
Sharon put down the spoon and asked suddenly. She keenly saw the traces of partial spiritual exhaustion on Lorne, which was a performance of not having fully recovered after excessive consumption of spirituality.
Lorne, who was cleaning up the tableware, nodded without concealment.
"That's right, today I followed your previous recommendation and went to the Harvest Church—"
He briefly recounted his trip to the Harvest Church, accepting the commission from Bishop Utravsky, and fighting the "Dawn Paladin" in the spiritual world.
After speaking, he also took the opportunity to ask about Vampires.
"The Sanguine believe in their ancestor, Lilith," Sharon explained, "But legend has it that Lilith fell at the end of the Second Epoch."
"So, the Vampires believe in a dead god?" Lorne suddenly became a little curious.
Believing in a dead ancestor, this group of Vampires had quite a personality.
"Hmm."
The two also chatted about the "Primordial Moon", and Lorne learned that this thing was also quite unwelcome within the Sanguine, belonging to the evil god among evil gods, and the heresy among heresies.
"Regarding the exploration of the Amon family tomb, I think we can put it on the agenda as soon as possible." Sharon brought the topic back to business, her tone returning to her usual calmness, "That tomb has been discovered for some time, and it is difficult to completely block the news. If we delay any longer, it is very likely to attract the attention of official Beyonders, and it will be much more difficult and risky to explore then."
"Understood." Lorne nodded slightly, "I will act once I have recovered."
"Hmm." Sharon replied, and suddenly, her delicate nose twitched slightly, as if she had noticed something, "I feel that the smell here is a bit strange."
"Oh, that's the scent of my experiment."
"Experiment?"
"That's right," Lorne turned around, a mysterious smile appearing on his face, "My panacea experiment."