MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 903: Simmerium

"We should probably stop worrying about him and just get on with the tour," Kingsley suggested, giving his head a subtle shake. For a fleeting second, his thoughts drifted back to his most recent spar against Anthony. The memory hit him with a sharp, vivid intensity that felt both humbling and surreal; a quiet chuckle escaped him before he intentionally pushed the thought aside, letting it dissolve into the back of his mind.

"I agree, let's keep moving. Broth-ben, where are we headed next?" Veronica chimed in, expertly pivoting the Brothkin’s focus back to their excursion.

Broth-ben paused to reflect on the tourist's question, his eyes narrowing slightly as he weighed their options for the next stop. Finally, he spoke, "What would you say to visiting a Simmerium?"

The suggestion caused several members of the group to raise their eyebrows in confusion, silently prompting him for more detail. With a quick snap of Broth-ben’s fingers, the same open vessel forged from his Savor energy appeared beside them, its exterior glowing with a soft shimmer. As the floor beneath them shifted and found its balance, Broth-ben began his explanation.

"To put it simply, a Simmerium is a kitchen," he stated in a level tone. "However, that basic definition is only for you outsiders. For those of us born to the Ramen Singularity Timeline and the planet Nodara, a Simmerium represents something far deeper than a mere cooking space. It is a chamber of judgment."

A heavy silence fell over the group, allowing the Brothkin to elaborate without interruption.

"Four distinct types of Simmerium exist across the face of Nodara," Broth-ben lectured. "First is the Public Simmerium. This is the variety most accessible to travelers and foreigners like yourselves. It serves as a hub for commercial cooking, public displays, and street-level mastery. It is a place of loud noises, heavy aromas, and occasional chaos, yet it is vibrantly alive." He took a short breath, letting the travelers visualize the scene.

"The second type is the Lineage Simmerium. As the name suggests, these are tied to specific chef bloodlines and are under extremely tight security. Outsiders are strictly forbidden from entering. Third is the Duel Simmerium, which I assume is self-explanatory." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Lastly, we have the Silent Simmerium. No spectators are permitted there for any reason whatsoever. It is a sanctuary for experimental or forbidden techniques. Access requires a formal application, and trespassing is treated as a major offense."

He paused once more, giving the listeners a moment to digest the information.

"These four variants are also colloquially known as The Pot, The Bowl, The Heat Circle, and The Listening Floor," he finished. "Though, we rarely use those formal titles in our daily lives."

The group nodded, signaling their comprehension.

"So, our destination is the Pot," Lucian quipped, drawing a light wave of laughter from the others.

Broth-ben joined in the laughter. "Indeed," he confirmed, "we are making our way to a Public Simmerium."

Countless Public Simmeriums were peppered throughout Nodara. In Broth-ben's eyes, they were mostly identical—crowded, noisy, and filled with scents, yet undeniably bursting with energy. He picked one at random and led the party inside.

The second they crossed the threshold, they felt as if they had entered a different realm.

Thick plumes of fragrant steam swirled through the Public Simmerium, wrapping around massive stone pillars carved with ancient flavor seals. The mist hovered over long, circular cooking stations that were laid out like concentric rings inside a giant bowl. Brothkin chefs worked with silent intensity, their ladles moving in rhythmic, almost holy patterns. Their simmer robes shifted in color, oscillating between deep umbral browns and soft golds as Savor energy surged through the fabric.

Nearby, cooks of the Spice-Touched variety breathed out visible waves of heat, their worn garments glowing as volatile scents leaked into the atmosphere. Oil Ascendants floated in polished, reflective silence, watching the scene without a word, their metallic forms mirroring the distorted chaos of the kitchen below.

Foreigners moved through the area in small packs; some were hesitant while others looked on in total awe. They traded exotic spices, attempted to study methods they couldn't quite grasp, and jumped whenever the ground vibrated beneath them—as if the Simmerium itself were monitoring every breath and choice made within its vast, bowl-shaped center.

For a long moment, the group stood still, simply soaking in the overwhelming atmosphere.

"Wow...!!!" Aura Nova whispered. The air was thick with a staggering array of colors, smells, and complex aromas; it was so intense that anyone lacking mastery over their senses would likely have collapsed from the sensory input.

Broth-ben gave a small smirk, clearly having anticipated their shock. He continued his explanation while walking at a measured pace, acting as though any haste would be an insult to the Simmerium. He made broad gestures as Anthony and the rest followed closely.

First, he pointed to the stone floor. "This is the Listening Floor," he described. "It is grown from concentrated Broth Memory. If you remain still, it will signal to you whether a dish is nearing perfection or if it is already ruined."

Anthony picked up on a faint vibration in the stone that grew sharper whenever a chef nearby committed even a slight error.

Next, Broth-ben indicated a group of shallow basins linked by narrow paths of flowing liquid. "These are Minor Broth Springs," he noted. "They are diluted branches of the Endless Seas, meant for public use. Pure springs would be too powerful for a facility like this."

He then pointed toward the ceiling, where faint lines shimmered in the air like ghostly silk. "Those are Aroma Currents. They are natural conduits that transport scent and Savor to prevent flavors from clashing. A master chef always cooks in harmony with the flow, never against it."

Finally, Broth-ben lowered his volume and gestured toward a sealed, steam-free platform on the edge of the hall. "That," he whispered, "is a Dormant Station. When it wakes up, it means a duel is about to begin." The ground seemed to catch every word he spoke.

"I have a question," Aura Nova interrupted. "Why does the Public Simmerium need a Dormant Station for duels? Doesn't the Duel Simmerium already serve that purpose?"

Broth-ben replied instantly. "While dedicated Duel Simmeriums exist, Public Simmeriums can act as temporary hosts for smaller matches, provided the chefs are already cooking here at the time."

"And what about the Listening Floor?" she pressed. "You mentioned it here, but you also said the Silent Simmerium is called the Listening Floor."

Broth-ben nodded, expecting the query. "The Listening Floor is a specific feature, not just a place. It is present in every Simmerium—be it public, lineage, or duel. Built from stone infused with Broth Memory, it reacts to timing, excess, and progress. It senses intent rather than sound. That vibration Anthony sensed? That is a standard function."

He took a brief pause before clarifying, "The Silent Simmerium earned its name because absolute silence is required to properly listen during delicate experiments or when using forbidden arts. That is why the names overlap."

He concluded his explanation with the relaxed confidence of a man who had navigated every Simmerium on the planet.

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