Editing Dantalian no Shoka:Volume1 Chapter1 (section)

===Part 2===

The gourmet's mansion was on a hill with a view over the lush forest.

Since it had been the residence of the feudal lord long ago, the building was surprisingly large. The dining hall of the feast was lined with tables that were adorned with beautiful candlesticks and sterling cutlery.

Everywhere one looked, one could see wealthy people, landlords and other people conversing with each other— without exception about tonight's dinner.

"Why are there so many people? It's unbearable," Dalian complained quietly while hiding herself in the shadow of a post.

While adjusting his brand-new necktie, Huey gave a laid-back answer, "Mr. Graham has become so wealthy because he built up a fortune in his young years by doing forward trading with corn. Even now when he has retired, he arranges a dinner party with lots of guests every month. And because of the very special cooking that is served at those, you can apparently pride yourself on getting invited."

"...what a wretched bunch," she cursed with quite a grumpy expression, which probably originated from her aversion of being in crowds.

Another reason for her bad mood was the fact that she was the target of countless curious gazes; her exotic black dress stood out even among all the other guests, dressed up as they were.

Despite her dismissive attitude, there were still quite a lot who approached her out of curiosity.

"Good evening, young lady. Is this your first visit?"

Addressed by a young noble-looking man, she tensed and tried ignoring him.

The man, however, did not even mind and continued, "I've attended several times since last year. The cooking here is even better than the rumours say! It stands to reason that Mr. Graham's company is said to have flourished because of his dinner parties. I'm sure you'll love it. The recipes he has worked out are of course splendid, but so too are the skills of the cooks that carry them out."

"...Cooks?" Huey asked subduedly.

The man who was being ignored by Dalian turned relievedly towards Huey.

"Yes, exactly. Did you know? Apparently, the chef is able to cook animals alive without letting them feel any pain. I heard that birds and predators kept sleeping comfortably even when their head rolled, or that fish continued to swim in the tank even when they were reduced to head and bones—"

"...why would he do such obscure things?" Huey asked, raising an eyebrow.

The noble-looking man extended his arms exaggeratedly and shook his head.

"That's again a story beyond belief: he seems to be seeking for the perfect taste by doing so. Adrenalin... was it, I think. Animals emit adrenalin when they die in pain, which causes the meat to get chewy and the flavour to weaken. Of course, that's a difference so subtle we common people cannot perceive it, though."

"You mean... he is doing it just to prevent that effect...?"

"Exactly. It's splendid how much care he puts into his dishes, don't you agree? I heard he polished his knife technique and even learned the oriental 'moxibustion' and the usage of medicines, just to prevent the animals from suffering. Mind you, he has been able to work for several years for Mr. Graham."

"...quite hard to believe," Huey voiced his thoughts dryly.

The man nodded several times.

"Surely! But I think you'll believe it as soon as you've tasted the cooking."

After boasting about the cooking as if he had made it, the man parted with them in high spirits.

When he went out of their view, Dalian relaxed again.

"...what do you think about it, Dalian?"

So far he had preserved a sociable smile, but now Huey's mien turned serious at once.

"It's absurd. No common man could accomplish something like that," Dalian declared coldly.

Huey maintained a serious face.

"But what if it's the truth?"

The black-dressed girl gazed at the flame dancing on a candlestick and muttered in an even voice, "That would mean... the power of a non-human being is involved."

"I see," Huey shrugged casually.

He took a pocket-watch out of his coat and bracing himself up, said briefly:

"It's time. Let's go."




Graham Atkinson's study was to be found at a silent place, somewhat apart from the dinner party.

Outside the window one could see the huge forest and the wheat fields on the back side of the mansion. Both sides of the room were lined with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling and were packed with rare books.

There were some comfortable-looking seats in the centre, one of which was already occupied by a man.

He was probably older than fifty.

While he was a little short, his body was well-built— far from the chubbiness one would expect from a rumoured gourmet. His appearance resembled much more a soldier in employment, rather than a retired aristocrat.

"—I'm impressed."

The first action Huey took after being led to this library was not greeting Mr. Graham, but sighing in admiration at the bookshelves alongside the walls. Even Dalian could not help rounding her eyes.

"'De re coquinaria' by the gourmand Acipius of the old Rome. 'Le Viandier' by Charles VI's highly valued chef Taillevent. 'The Physiology of Taste' by Brillat-Savarin—the greatest gourmet of modern history. And the 'Qí mín yào shù' of the Ancient China. There are not only recipes, but also books about natural history and physics... you could probably count the number of other gourmet libraries of this level on one hand."

"Heh...," the owner of the study gazed at Huey with searching eyes and gave a laugh. "I see. As expected from the grandchild of Viscount Wesley Disward. You seem to have an eye for books."

"...Are you acquainted with my grandfather?" Huey gave the gourmet a surprised glance.

Graham nodded deeply with a hard to judge expression. He signalled Huey and Dalian to take a seat and ordered the butler to prepare some tea for them.

"Anyone who is a little familiar with what happens behind the scenes in this country knows about that bibliomaniac! And also about the library he owns, of course."

"What library?" Huey asked back with a straight face.

"Playing dumb won't help you, Sir Disward. The best proof is the girl you've taken with you, 'the Black Biblioprincess'. You have inherited ''it'' from the Viscount, haven't you? The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"

"...I wonder what you mean?" Huey smiled in a ironic manner and inclined his head.

Dalian was still wordlessly tugging at his sleeves with downcast eyes. Her impassive countenance seemed like a beautiful porcelain doll.

"Heh," Graham sneered amusedly. "Books are splendid. You have to use your head to read them, and reading makes you hungry. Did you know that the weight of a human brain makes about 2% of the whole body, but uses up 18% of the daily required calories? Now, the hungrier you are, the more delicious dishes you can eat."

"You read books... for the sake of eating?" Huey asked in a jesting tone.

But his dialogue partner nodded without hesitation and added, "Surely... and the same applies to my muscles. If you increase your basal metabolism by training your muscles, the amount of needed food will grow, too. Gourmet food is the greatest pleasure under the sun. Thus, I spare neither trouble nor expense."

"Hah..."

With an awkward expression, Huey looked around in the study. There weren't just lots of books, but also many tools to exercise.

And instead of a desk, there was a personal dining table.

The wine cup and plates were all made of expensive porcelain and wouldn't have been out of place in an art gallery. In a sense, this study was a splendid, extravagant dining room.

"Won't you take part in the dinner party?" Huey asked after a short pause.

Although the dinner party should have begun by now, Graham didn't seem to intend to go.

"Don't make me laugh," the gourmet ranted. "Do you ask me to dine together with a bunch that won't stop talking about silly rumours, their business and other nonsense during that holy time? ''Me''? Such a dinner party is of no worth! I only organize those because I have no other choice for business. You may call it fawning on incompetent trustees."

"That is... unexpected," Huey muttered to himself.

"Why would you think so?"

"No, it's just that everyone was praising your dinner parties so highly, so I was sure you made every effort..."

"Why, I do make every effort! Doesn't that go without saying? Or did you think I would let my cooks slack off just because my guests are common people?" the gourmet asked deprecatingly. Huey silently shook his head.

Graham laughed deeply. "Well, but to tell the truth... while they are not slacking off, they don't give their best either. It's necessary to reduce the grade of perfection, so even those commoners can comprehend the taste. Do you know why?"

"No... why is that?"

"In short, for savouring the best cooking, the body of the one eating has to be at least of the same quality. Everyone knows that the meat of a well-built and healthy animal tastes good. But what about the person eating it? Do you think someone who is fat, or whose inner organs are corroded by tobacco and wine, could ever appreciate the best cooking?" Graham sighed as if to ridicule the guests gathered at the dinner party. "I have been working on myself for a long time, caring about my health, getting myself into shape, and keeping the balance of never eating too much, but neither getting too hungry. I did all this in order to savour the best cooking. I'm not like those would-be gourmets!"

While saying so, he paraded his muscles proudly.

"I think I can understand what you mean," said Huey calmly, continuing with a strained smile, "We don't seem to have the capabilities to appreciate the cooking you're talking of, either. I am a person that neglects to live healthily and I'm quite dense to tastes... Therefore, may we get down to business?"

"...Business, huh?"

"Yes. Why did you not only invite us to your dinner party, but also to had us come to your study, Mr. Graham Atkinson, even though we have no connection to your business whatsoever?" Huey gave him a cold glance.

Graham nodded pleasedly, "Right... I am not interested in the bunch that's here only to taste my cuisine. But you are different, Sir Disward. And so are you, Black Biblioprincess... please, grant my wish!"

"Your wish?" Huey asked suspiciously.

Graham bowed his head slowly.

"I'm talking about the Phantom Book."

A dull light flashed in his eyes. Dalian tightened her grip on Huey's sleeves, visibly tensed.

"I would merely like you to lend me just one phantom book—one among the thousands you own. The phantom book, which is said to contain forbidden cookery by the chef of Valhalla, the pagan god Andhrímnir," he said slowly, "It is called 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'. It was lost long ago and should not exist anymore. But you should know about its whereabouts. You who inherited the phantom library crowned by the name of the '''demon that has might over knowledge and books'''. The Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian!"

"...Why?" Huey repeated his question.

Graham frowned discontentedly.

"You are a researcher of gourmet food and recognized by everyone. You have collected such a giant number of cookery books and you even have one of the best cooks in the country as your employee. What more could you long for?"

"I long to savour the best cooking—no more, no less," Graham answered without hesitation. "For gourmet food is the greatest pleasure on earth. It's the ultimate desire and deeply rooted in the human nature itself. Moreover, it and nothing else was the driving force that led to the progress of our civilization. Or as Brillat-Savarin once said: 'The discovery of a new dish confers more happiness on humanity than the discovery of a new star'. And I have yet to find it! That true bliss!"

"And that is why you want to borrow the knowledge of the demons?"

Huey gazed at him with pity in his eyes.

Graham nodded, "I sacrificed my own lifetime in order to seek the best cooking. Did you know that according to some statistics, true gourmet food does not harm the health, but rather lengthens life...? But still, I've not yet reached it. I don't have much time left. Ten, twenty years at most. I want to savour the ultimate gourmet food before my time has come—even if it means to borrow the power of a book whose mere existence is forbidden."

Huey patiently heard Graham out, but in his eyes one could clearly discover bewilderment. He shook his head, unable to understand Graham.

"...how can this be, Dalian?" he whispered to the black-clothed girl, who remained silent.

"What are you hesitating for, Sir Disward?" Irritation was mixed in Graham's voice. "Do you want money? There is no reason to hesitate in that case. Just write down the sum you have in mind on a cheque."

"...you're mistaken, Mr. Atkinson. We don't demand anything in exchange for the books," Huey sighed, slightly annoyed. "But sadly we're not able to hand out a phantom book to you—even if we, for argument's sake, were the owners of that library."

"Why?" Graham asked in a hoarse voice, becoming rattled for the first time.

"Because that book—The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking—has already been lent to somebody. Thirteen years ago, that is."

"What did you just say...?" Graham muttered in complete bafflement.

Still raising an eyebrow, Huey continued, "In the diary of grandpa... no, of my grandfather, it was written that the 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' was handed out to someone today 13 years ago on a whim. We were sure you were the holder of the book when we travelled here. Since after all, it was shortly after that day that you got widely famous as a gourmet—"

"13 years ago...? Don't tell me that...!" He groaned deeply and sank down in his seat. Then, after a long time of silence, he muttered in a mournful voice:

"It's my head cook..."

"Eh?"

"The chef has got the phantom book. Apparently, everyone thinks that ''I'' have created all the recipes, and that I only have the servants cook them for me, but that's not true. The one thinking them out and cooking them is the chef and no one else. It was right about 13 years ago when I employed the current head cook... and still... what a... ooh...!" he mumbled and held his head.

His imposing body seemed a lot smaller than before.

"What a twist of fate... so I have been eating dishes cooked using that phantom book all along? And yet I've not been able to savour the cooking of my desires? Even by using the knowledge of the demons I'm not able to reach my ideal? I firmly believed that my wish would come true if I obtained it..." Graham sighed in grief.

Huey silently looked down at him, while Dalian stood up without making a sound.

"Where is the chef?" she broke the silence.

"In the kitchen, I suppose... that cook should be preparing my dinner right now..."

"I do want to meet the chef. Immediately."

"Do as you will. There doesn't seem to be any use for either of us in talking any more," he said in an indifferent tone.

They gave each other a nod and stepped towards the entrance of the room. Her black dress softly expanded like a large shadow.

Graham addressed their backs:

"Wait! ...allow me just one more question, Sir Disward. Why did you come here if not for lending me the phantom book? Why now, after thirteen years...?"

"The books that are lent by a library do have return dates, Mr. Atkinson..." Huey explained coldly without giving him another glance. "Phantom books are books that should not even exist in the world originally, and hence are sealed away. Not even we know what impact one of them could have on the world if not brought back within the time limit."

Graham looked at them in bewilderment.

The black-dressed girl turned around quietly and proclaimed in a cold and clear voice.

"'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' has been lent with a time limit of thirteen years. The return date is—tonight."