8:30 pm—
Michael had brought Rick to a luxurious restaurant — the kind with crystal chandeliers, velvet seats, and a faint classical tune playing in the background. Everything about it screamed expensive.
Rick stopped dead at the entrance, his mouth hanging open.
"Dude… are you trying to get revenge on me or something? Look, I've only got seventy-five bucks on me. Let's get out of here before it's too late."
Michael chuckled, walking past him with that same calm, unreadable smile. "Ah, Rick, relax. Why are you worrying so much? I told you, I'm paying for everything. I've wanted to come here for a long time. Just order whatever you want — don't hold back. Or… do you not trust me?"
Rick followed him in, still suspicious, "Trust you? Bro, you literally crashed my date like an hour ago. Forgive me if I'm having a little trouble trusting your generosity right now."
Michael ignored the jab and gestured toward a table near the window. As soon as they sat down, a waitress appeared with a polite smile, menus in hand. Rick eyed her uniform — the crisp white gloves, the perfect posture — everything about her screamed high-class and overpriced.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Would you like to start with something to drink?" she asked in a soft, professional tone.
Rick leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Uh, do you have… like… tap water?"
Michael sighed and gave him a look. He couldn't really blame him — this was probably his first time in a place like this. Michael asked the waitress for two lemonades, and she set the menus on the table before walking away.
As soon as she left, Rick pointed a finger at him. "Okay, seriously, man — what's going on with you? Such confident? Fancy restaurant? This isn't you. You used to be a 'burger-and-fries' kind of guy."
"Ah, Just order, dude, you're overthinking all this stuff."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Overthinking? Me?, dude, you are the one who is acting like some kind of movie protagonist. I mean, what did I miss here? You win the lottery or something?"
Michael chuckled quietly, not answering right away. "Let's just say things are… looking up."
Rick stared at him for a long moment, trying to read his face. "Uh-huh. That's what people say before they either get arrested or join a cult."
Michael leaned back in his chair, amused. "You always talk this much, or are you nervous?"
"Of course I'm nervous! This place looks like the kind of joint where they arrest you if you touch the silverware wrong!" Rick picked up the fork and examined it. "Is this thing made of platinum? I swear, if it disappears when I leave, they'll probably think I stole it."
Michael couldn't help but laugh, and for a second, some of the tension between them faded.
Just then, the waitress returned with their drinks. Rick immediately reached for his glass, only to nearly choke on the first sip.
"Damn! That's sour!"
"It's lemonade, Rick. What did you expect?"
"I don't know, maybe some sugar?" Rick set it down with a grimace. "They probably charge five bucks for this cup of acid."
Michael shook his head. "You really don't know how to appreciate quality."
"Quality my ass — if it doesn't have sugar, it's a scam," Rick muttered under his breath, then quickly straightened up when the waitress came back with a friendly smile.
"Have you gentlemen decided on your orders?"
Michael told Rick to give the order, and when Rick opened the menu, he nearly had a heart attack after seeing the prices.
"Holy— these numbers don't even look real. Is this in U.S. dollars or… yen or something?"
For Rick, who came from a middle-class family, the prices of every item on that menu seemed nothing short of absurd — completely beyond anything he could have imagined.
Michael gave the waitress an awkward smile, embarrassed by Rick's behavior. She, however, maintained her polite expression and waited patiently.
Rick then look to Michael, his eyes saying what his lips couldn't — that he wanted nothing more than to bolt out of there right that very moment.
So Michael decided to take the menu from Rick and order himself.
But once he had the menu in his own hands, even Michael couldn't hide his surprise at the prices. It was his first time there too, and though his confidence came from knowing he had enough money, the numbers still made his eyebrows lift.
To make things trickier, half the dishes had names he'd never even heard before — let alone knew anything about. Honestly, if it weren't for his Linguistic Comprehension skills, he probably wouldn't have even known how to pronounce them.
Damn, he thought. These prices are insane.
[Host, The price is high because you're paying for more than just the food — it's the location and rent, the trained kitchen and floor staff, premium ingredients like dry-aged beef and flown-in seafood, and the full experience: fine glassware, linens, a deep wine list with steep markups, and that polished, comfortable atmosphere. If you want value without seeming cheap, skip the bottled water, choose a mid-tier cut or the chef's menu, order wine by the glass if you drink, and only go for dessert if you truly want it.]
I know, I know
Michael muttered, looking at Sista's message.
Honestly, just looking at this menu makes me feel like I should order everything.
As he thought about it, another screen popped up.
[Host— Warning: Your intake was still +236% over optimal. Recommendation: lite meal only. Standing and short walking after the meal will reduce discomfort.]
Ugh, I get it.
Michael cleared his throat and pointed to a few items on the menu.
"We'll start with the Osetra caviar," he said, his voice calm but low. "Then the butter-poached Maine lobster. And the A5 Miyazaki Wagyu—medium rare. For him." He nodded toward Rick, who still looked unsure.
The waitress gave an approving nod.
"Excellent choice, sir. May I suggest the 2018 Château Margaux to accompany the Wagyu?"
"Please do," Michael replied.
Then, after a brief hesitation, he added softly,
"And just a green tea for me."
"Of course, sir"
The waitress bowed slightly and left to bring their food.
As soon as she left,
Rick leaned forward, his tone quieter this time. "Okay, level with me, man. Did you rob someone? Or have you found some hidden treasure? or you joined some weird secret organization or whatever"
Michael looked at him irritably and said, "Could you please keep your mouth shut? We came here to eat, so please just be quiet."