Arguing with the Head Chef

Eight Treasures Bistro.

Bella Bell stood with her hands on her hips at the kitchen entrance, her voice loud and shrill. She slammed a plate down in front of Chef Ian and snapped, "This is the third time this month you've been complained about by customers! What kind of dish is this supposed to be, is it even edible!?"

Chef Ian's face flushed as he glared at Bella, refusing to back down. "Why wouldn't my food be edible? I've always cooked this way! The customers don't know squat, they're just nitpicking! Bella, I don't care if you're the head supervisor, you can't just blame me without reason!"

"I'm blaming you? Pfft! There are plenty of head chefs, so why are you the only one customers always complain about? Why don't they complain about anyone else?" Bella shot back, eyes blazing.

Chef Ian huffed, "How should I know? I'm not a mind-reader!"

Bella spat, "Whatever! Your food got complaints, so your pay gets docked! Two months' salary, gone!"

Chef Ian, furious, grabbed a pot and slammed it down, cursing, "F*** you! You heartless bitch, you're just looking for an excuse to dock my pay! You're out to get me!"

Bella sneered, "Yeah, I'm out to get you, so what? You never listen, think you're hot stuff just because you have some skills! Let me tell you, no matter how good you are, you're still just a lousy cook. Without Eight Treasures Bistro, you're nothing! You wanna show off here? Do you even have the right? If I want to yell at you, I will. If I want to dock your pay, I will. If you're so great, why aren't you the supervisor? Just a cook—go look in the mirror and see what you really are!"

Their shouting match was so loud, it quickly drew the rest of the kitchen staff over to watch the spectacle.

Even Princess Mira's spy was among the crowd, watching Bella and Chef Ian go at it fiercely.

Bella even grabbed whatever was at hand and threw it at Chef Ian, yelling, "Got a temper, huh? You smash the pot? That pot's expensive—I'm docking you another half month's pay!"

Chef Ian was completely enraged, rolling up his sleeves as if ready to fight Bella, but a few assistants held him back, persuading, "Master Ian, don't get mad. She's the head supervisor, after all. We're just workers here—if she wants to yell or dock our pay, we just have to take it."

Chef Ian, still fuming, yanked off his apron and threw it on the ground. "I don't believe it! You think I can't survive without Eight Treasures Bistro?"

Bella, utterly fearless, said, "Go ahead and leave! Out there, without our spices, you won't be able to make those dishes. All your cooking skills will be wasted!"

Chef Ian's face was clouded with resentment, feeling as if his lungs would burst from anger. In the end, he had no choice but to swallow his pride, pick up his apron, and go back to cooking.

Bella smirked, "Pfft, at least you know who's boss and who's not. Alright, show's over—back to work, everyone."

With that, Bella strode off. The spy tugged at someone nearby and whispered, "Wasn't that Supervisor Bella and Chef Ian? Why were they fighting so fiercely?"

The person glanced at the spy and replied, "You don't know? Chef Ian is way too honest. When he first started, he didn't give Supervisor Bella any gifts. So she's always picking on him, making things hard. A few days ago, Chef Ian got drunk and complained about Bella, and word must've gotten back to her—so she's at it again. Look, Chef Ian's had his pay docked for months now. Poor guy."