FPE Chapter 43

The Adorable Creature Restaurant (2)

When Fantasy Amusement Park’s newly opened restaurant first launched, it barely generated any discussion. In the fan-created super-topic forum dedicated to Fantasy Amusement Park, threads about the Abandoned Park, Jasmine Town, the Children’s Area, and even the Purple Lake drew massive amounts of discussion — especially today, on Qixi Festival, where the forum was flooded with posts from lucky visitors showing off their fairy companion draws, along with plenty of posts cataloguing the many ways the magic beasts had tormented them. But there was not a single post about the restaurant.

In the eyes of cloud visitors, a restaurant — no matter how grand its architecture or how cozy its décor — simply could not compare to the park’s other attractions. It was, at the end of the day, just a place to eat. And so, at first, nobody paid the Dwarf Elf Restaurant any attention.

That changed at ten o’clock in the morning, when a screen recording from Xiao Zhou’s livestream was suddenly uploaded to the internet. The title read: “Oh my god! The fluffy little creatures are cooking for me!”

As a blogger who specialized in livestreaming the park, Xiao Zhou had a knack for capturing spectacular moments that even the park’s official team failed to notice — it was he who had first discovered many of the park’s machines’ astonishing hidden functions.

A large number of working cloud visitors who couldn’t catch the livestream live made a habit of watching his recordings. The moment a new recording dropped, cloud visitors charged in without even glancing at the title. At first, the footage of a white fluffy creature pawing through ingredients left them a little puzzled — but then the comment overlay suddenly filled wall to wall with the words “HIGH ENERGY AHEAD.” The viewers instinctively dismissed the overlay, and in the very next moment the scene before them shocked a collective “what the—” out of them.

The comments had not lied. This was genuinely high energy.

Inside a spacious glass kitchen, gathered around a compact counter designed for small hands, several fluffy creatures of different colors were meticulously preparing ingredients. Their movements were extraordinarily practiced — clearly the work of seasoned chefs — yet one only had to glance at their little triangular mouths twitching now and then, at their big eyes blinking away, at their curled ears giving the occasional wiggle, and at those small fuzzy paws at work crafting the food, to be utterly slain by cuteness.

What fluffy-creature enthusiast had never fantasized about being doted on and looked after by one?

“Oh my god! These fluffy little things are actually cooking for me — they must be absolutely obsessed with me!”

“Food made by fluffy creatures — even if it’s poisoned, I’m still going to wolf it down! Let go of me! Everyone let go! Nothing can stop me!”

“The white fluffy one just glanced at the camera — it definitely has feelings for me!”

“So many fluffy ones are looking at the camera — they’re definitely all inviting me! I’ve lost my mind, I’ve completely lost my mind! Nothing can stop me from quitting my job. I’m moving to Jin’an City to retire!”

The cloud visitors were utterly undone by the cuteness, and in no time posts about Fantasy Amusement Park’s Dwarf Elf Restaurant began sprouting up like mushrooms after rain, the internet overflowing with the ecstatic screams of people bursting to share what they’d seen.

But what were these fluffy creatures actually thinking when they glanced toward the camera?

“Why are more and more people showing up to watch?”

“Some of them are even drooling? What is wrong with these humans?”

“Hmph. The boss is really something — hiring this many people to supervise us. Does he think we can’t be trusted?”

The fluffy creatures’ eyes went wide, and they threw themselves into handling the ingredients with fierce, milk-fueled determination.

The white fluffy creature hoisted a hammer the size of a clay pot and brought it down on the slab of meat in front of it in a furious volley of blows. Amid a rapid-fire series of thuds, sparks practically flew where hammer met meat, and what had once been a neatly squared-off block — tidy as a cube of tofu — had been pounded into a dense paste of minced flesh.

The dwarf elf then scooped up the meat paste in its soft pink palms and began slapping it down forcefully — smack, smack, smack — the mass growing rounder and more elastic with every throw, until at the end it gave a gentle little bounce like a large dumpling, clearly springy and full of bite, the perfect consistency for making small meatballs.

Every time it slapped the paste down, the visitors watching from outside the glass would release a synchronized wave of “oohs” and “aahs.” And when the white fluffy creature swiftly pinched off a small piece, rolled it in its palms, and produced a perfectly round little ball, the crowd outside burst into applause, cheering excitedly: “Amazing, amazing!” — “Bai Bai, you’re incredible!” — “Bai Bai, Mama loves you!” — “Bai Bai, Papa loves you too!”

(TL: “Bai” (白 / bái) = white)

The white fluffy creature — that is to say, the dwarf elf Hohoda — tilted its head to one side in puzzlement.

The humans outside the glass: …..

“Ahhhh it tilted its head and looked over! Ahhhh!”

“Bai Bai is so photogenic! That little head tilt is everything!”

The glass kitchen was impressively soundproofed, but the muffled shouts of the humans outside still filtered through faintly. Hohoda listened carefully for a moment, and felt an unexpected warmth creep up beneath its fur. It looked at the humans outside pressing small boxes against the glass and hollering away, then turned to its companion and said, “These humans keep shouting ‘Bai Bai’ — are they calling for me?”

The grey fluffy creature, Hohoa, was working alongside it to drop the meatballs into a pot of hot oil. Hearing this, it stole a glance outside, the curled ear atop its head giving a small twitch. “Probably not — the Fantasy Amusement Park people said ‘bye-bye’ to us before too; it means goodbye.”

Oh, so they aren’t praising me after all!

Of course. We’re just making meatballs the same way we always have — why would the humans get so worked up over that?

These humans are so aggravating. They’re not even complimenting me and yet they keep yelling at me! They made me get my hopes up for nothing!

Insufferable creatures!

The white fluffy creature’s triangular mouth gave an irritated twitch, and it let out a mildly indignant little huff before turning back to its meatballs.

Outside the glass, the visitors watched Bai Bai turn pointedly away and present them with its round fluffy tail. As one, they broke into besotted grins. “Aww, Bai Bai is shy!” they cooed — while simultaneously grabbing their phones and snapping photos furiously.

“The meatballs they’re deep-frying are golden — they look absolutely delicious!”

“Oh, look — there’s one making meat pies! I’m definitely ordering that later!”

“There’s a black fluffy one boiling something — sweetie, why aren’t you wearing oven mitts? That pot looks scalding!”

“And there’s one peeling a radish — oh my goodness, it’s adorable!”

“Ha ha ha, another one got caught sneaking a taste and I got the photo!”

As visitors uploaded more and more videos and photos, the crowd flocking to the Dwarf Elf Restaurant swelled accordingly. The entire viewing wooden corridor quickly filled to capacity, with more visitors still pushing in from outside — some drawn by food photos circulating online, others simply curious about the gathering crowd and wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

When it looked as though visitors were about to be packed in like sardines, the overhead speaker system was compelled to issue an announcement: [In light of the current overcrowding, one additional rule has been added for the Dwarf Elf Kitchen viewing corridor. Visitors already inside the corridor are asked not to linger — please advance one step every thirty seconds. Visitors approaching from outside are asked not to push — please scan your tickets and enter in an orderly fashion.]

Somehow, the moment the overhead announcement sounded, people fell into compliance without a second thought. The crowd crammed into the corridor began moving in an orderly flow, and what might have been a trampling incident quietly dissolved into nothing.

Only then did Chi Yizhen, who had been monitoring the corridor from the security office, breathe a sigh of relief.

The Dwarf Elf Kitchen was not particularly large — it was the size of a standard restaurant kitchen. Although Chi Yizhen had asked Meng Le to design it as long as possible when the kitchen was first being planned, it was never going to be built to the same length as a viewing corridor, which meant the wooden corridor available for observation had a limited visitor capacity. Once a large portion of the visitors inside stopped and refused to move, combined with more visitors pouring in from outside, it could very easily result in crushing and shoving.

“Good thing the rule was added in time.”

With that matter resolved, Chi Yizhen checked on the rest of the park, saw that everything was running smoothly, and closed the park’s projection overlay.

“It’s lunchtime. Might as well go see what the dwarven elves are capable of.”

Food and drink were the most primal of human needs, and the mere thought of a good meal quickened Chi Yizhen’s steps without him even realizing it.

But he had only just reached the restaurant — hadn’t even made it through the entrance — when someone grabbed his arm. He looked down and found, to his surprise, the familiar face of reporter Fang Jiu.

Chi Yizhen broke into a grin. “You again!”

The dwarven elves going viral was always a matter of when, not if — but Chi Yizhen hadn’t expected Fang Jiu to show up quite this fast.

Fang Jiu, upon hearing this, flashed a broad, easy smile, raised the microphone, and launched into the interview. “Director, word is that the Dwarf Elf Restaurant has employed a new technology — essentially using it to dress up all the restaurant’s staff as adorable animals. However, based on our observations, these adorable animals are generally under a meter tall, which is simply impossible for a normal adult’s physique. Could you tell us how that was achieved?”

Chi Yizhen took the microphone and looked sincerely into the camera. “Let me share a little secret with everyone — it’s actually not holographic technology at all. This time, our park really spared no expense: we invited the dwarf elf race directly from another world — they’re renowned for their culinary skills. And their adorable appearance? That’s certainly not something I designed. I don’t have that kind of talent. They simply look like this.”

****

“Ha! The director really has a great sense of humor.” Xiao Zhou and his friend passed by, catching a glimpse of the director’s interview, and decided the director was quite the seasoned memer himself.

“But how did he pull it off, though?” his friend murmured.

Xiao Zhou shrugged. “Probably some kind of optical illusion!”

The two walked into the restaurant and were stunned to discover that the waitstaff were also fluffy creatures. As they sat down at a table and accepted the menus handed over by a fluffy creature, both of them felt like they were being treated to something extraordinary. His friend hurriedly switched on the livestream camera, while Xiao Zhou, unable to help himself, reached out and gave the adorably lifelike fluffy creature in front of him a little pat.

“Wow — so fluffy! So soft!” Xiao Zhou’s eyes glazed over in bliss.

Then he let out a yelp — and the livestream audience was left equally stunned. The fluffy creature waiter had just delivered a rapid-fire smack to Xiao Zhou’s head, its paw moving so fast it left an afterimage. When the clip was slowed down and reviewed, frame by frame, the paw had swung fifteen times in the span of just a few seconds.

In dwarf elf culture, an outstretched hand was a challenge to a duel. The dwarf elf waiter had instinctively swung its paw in response, and only after the fact did it suddenly remember that it was here as an employee, and that the person in front of it was a valued customer.

That’s it. I hit a customer. I’m going to be fired by the boss. I’ve let down hundreds of thousands of my people.

The dwarf elf’s enormous round eyes shimmered with the beginnings of tears.

And yet—

Xiao Zhou rubbed his head, then suddenly leaned into the livestream camera, eyes shining with excitement. “Oh my god! Its paws are so thick and so soft — that felt incredible! You all absolutely have to come experience this in person!”

The livestream chat erupted in a string of “no way” and “I’m so jealous.”

Xiao Zhou’s friend, meanwhile, cast a shy glance at the waiter. “Could you… maybe hit me a few times too?”

The fluffy creature that had been bracing itself to be thrown out: ……