Looking at the bowl of noodles in front of her, Granny Mutsuki fell into a spiral of self-doubt. Her faith in ramen, which she had upheld for decades, began to waver. It felt as if all her years of experien making ramen had been a lie.

  Though she hadn't witnessed her disciple's process of simmering the broth or kneading the dough due to time straints, just one g her still-not-quite-sturdy physique was enough franny Mutsuki to make her judgment.

  Not to mention the noodle-cooking and straining process that she had seen with her own eyes—riddled with stant fws.

  Of course, Granny Mutsuki was aware that her standards were rather exag. The average er wouldn't notice much of a difference.

  But how could noodles made like this possibly taste so good? It was simply illogical!

  "Granny?" Mrs. Akiyama called out cautiously from behind the pot lid.

  Granny Mutsuki snapped out of her thoughts, her gaze plicated as she looked at the timid young woman before her.

  "You’re still making mistakes with the key points I’ve emphasized over and over. Running a ramen shop as a woman isn’t easy. If you don’t hold yourself to strict standards, how you expect to keep the shop running for the long haul?"

  Mrs. Akiyama obediently lowered her head, listening to the scolding with practiced ease.

  "But..." Granny Mutsuki let out a sigh, her expression growing even more plicated as she stared at the bowl of noodles before her.

  "Perhaps I’m truly getting old. I ’t figure out what ingenious methods you’ve used—not only did you make up for all the fws, but you even mao surpass the fvor of my cooking."

  "I'm sorry! ime, I’ll be more careful… I’ll khe dough properly three times, just like you said..."

  Mrs. Akiyama instinctively admitted her mistake, but then suddenly froze, her face filled with surprise.

  "Huh? It’s already better than what Granny makes? Then… shouldn’t I not o ge anything?"

  "..." Granny Mutsuki’s face immediately darkened. "Fix it anyway! If you make something this good without correg your mistakes, your talent could make you the top ramen chef in the try!

  "Show those men who look down on female chefs! Make them eat their words and humiliate them thhly!"

  Mrs. Akiyama quickly lowered her head again, muttering quietly, "But that sounds so exhausting… I’m not really ied in humiliating anyone…"

  Shuichi Chiba, watg from the side, couldn’t help but stifle a ugh. This woman really was like a child. Feeling curious, he turo Tsuki Akiyama, who was standing nearby, and asked:

  "By the way, what made your mom want to learn how to make ramen in the first pce? It’s ly an easy path for women, is it?"

  pared to other cuisines, ramen requires signifit physical strength, something womeurally at a disadvah—especially Mrs. Akiyama, who clearly wasn’t the type to excel at such tasks.

  Some ers would even leave immediately upon realizing that the ramen chef was a woman, assuming the food couldn’t possibly be good.

  Tsuki Akiyama gnced sideways at her younger sister and shrugged. "What other reason could there be? An- loved Granny Mutsuki’s ramen when she was little, of course."

  "My mom’s the type who doesn’t have a clear sense of her own abilities. She just does whatever she feels like without thinking it through." Tsuki Akiyama said with a shrug.

  Granny Mutsuki, overhearing their versation, snorted in annoyance. Remembering how An- now preferred her mother’s ramen, she muttered irritably:

  "If An- weren’t so adorable, I wouldn’t have taught su airhead. And with her scatterbrained nature and half-baked skills, the shop would’ve gone under ages ago if it weren’t for Tsuki helping out—reminding her about everything and suggesting she turn it into a women’s ramen shop."

  "A women’s ramen shop? There are ramen shops specifically for women?" Shuichi Chiba asked, surprised. He had never heard of such a cept.

  What’s ? he thought. Beauty salons and gyms catering to women make sense, but ramen shops? Is this street turning into some kind of ‘women-only zone’?

  "Of course there are. It’s been a thing for quite a while." Tsuki Akiyama replied with a nod.

  "Mom’s cooking is det but ly outstanding. bined with the challenges of being a female chef, it’s hard to pete with other ramen shops. So why not try a different approach? In the past, there were fewer female ers eating ramen. After all, eating ramen isn’t the most graceful activity, and the broth easily spsh onto clothes. But i years, ramen has beuch more popur among women.

  One of the main reasons women avoided ramen shops was that most ramen shops are cramped, f them to sit elbow-to-elbow with male ers. Women-only ramen shops solve that problem perfectly. Add thoughtful touches, like hair ties and disposable bibs, and female ers feel much more at ease."

  Shuichi Chiba suddenly saw the infamously etric president in a new light. Serious in her work, keenly perceptive, sharp-minded, and highly anized—if not for her "special quirks," she would undoubtedly be sidered exceptional, far surpassing her peers. The ideal "perfect child" others could only envy.

  "Why are you staring at me like that? Are you thinking of something weird again? Granny Mutsuki’s still here, so don’t try anything strange..." Tsuki Akiyama, feeling uneasy under his gaze, whispered a reminder.

  Her mother had been quite open-minded in her younger years, so even if something inappropriate was discovered, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But it was crucial not to shock the elder.

  Shuichi Chiba chuckled. "Oh, nothing. It’s just that... bullying su excellent president like you seems even more fun."

  Tsuki Akiyama’s heart skipped a beat, a sensation like a cat scratg at her insides, leaving her both restless and intrigued. What sort of exg scheme had this guy e up with now?

  Granny Mutsuki sighed from the side, cutting into their exge. "If it weren’t a women-only ramen shop, and given that female ers aren’t as picky about taste as men, there’s no way someone like Tamako—so careless and scatterbrained—could’ve mao raise two kids."

  Tsuki Akiyama’s lips twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly. It was clear she didn’t quite agree with that statement.

  Shuichi Chiba raised an eyebrow, recalling the earlier discussion about women-only train carriages and Tsuki Akiyama’s stan the matter. Clearly, women-oriented ramen shops faced their ow of challenges.

  sidering Mrs. Akiyama’s personality, it was obvious that most of the issues likely fell to her eldest daughter to handle.

  "Weren’t the flyers arranged by you, Chiba-kun? It’s written right on them," An Akiyama, having already finished her bowl of ramen while the others were talking, finally chimed in. She picked up one of the flyers and asked curiously.

  Shuichi Chiba leaned forward to take the flyer from her hand. The distance was just far enough that, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he pced one hand on Tsuki Akiyama’s thigh for support.

  Not only that, but he gave it a firm squeeze.

  Tsuki Akiyama immediately pressed her legs together tightly, her entire body beginning to tremble slightly.

  After grabbing the flyer, Shuichi Chiba sat back down, seemingly oblivious, and g its tent. Sure enough, the flyer promily advertised the shop as a women-only rameablishment.

  ….

  As breakfast ed up, the floral wreath Shuichi Chiba had ordered the day before arrived. Mrs. Akiyama was very pleased with it, and her sense of belonging increased by aen points.

  But where exactly did those ten points e from? Was it the thoughtful gesture of the floral wreath? The fact that her cooking had surpassed her mentor’s? Or perhaps the successful opening of the new shop?

  Shuichi Chiba couldn’t quite figure it out. But what mattered more was that Mrs. Akiyama, with a sense of belonging of 60, had officially surpassed Fumika Ogawa!

  [Tamako Akiyama, sense of belonging: 60]

  [Fumika Ogawa, sense of belonging: 50]

  [Sayuki Ogawa, sense of belonging: 30]

  [Current Monthly Sary: ￥1,500,000]

  He stared at the data for a long while, paring the situations of these two different but outstanding shop owners. The more he thought about it, the more he started doubting himself.

  Had he misuood the system all along? Increasing the sense of belonging didn’t seem as hard as he had initially believed.

  Maybe the proper way to utilize the ￥100,000 All-Purpose Butler Premium Service was to provide timely assistao the shop owners instead of overthinking every step?

  Watg the three teenagers leave after breakfast, Granny Mutsuki turo Tamako Akiyama, who was humming a tune and admiring the floral wreath.

  "Aren’t you, as their mother, the least bit ed? It looks like your two daughters are ied in the same boy."

  "Eh? Really?" Mrs. Akiyama blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "An- and Tsuki- have simir taste? They really are sisters, huh~"

  "..." Granny Mutsuki felt an urge to whack her with her e, but her age made that kind of effort a bit too much these days. "Aren’t you worried about the two of them fighting over him iure?"

  Mrs. Akiyama tilted her head slightly. "Future problems, huh… I’ll worry about it wheime es. Anyway, An- is just like me, so I’m sure she’ll be happy. And Tsuki- is so smart; she’ll be fioo."