Hunting MILFs in a Trash Eroge-Chapter 127: Damien’s cooking skills

They covered their bodies with the sheets again, slowly looking around the room.

As their eyes roamed around the room, they quickly realised Damien was no where to be found.

"Where’s Damien?" they said almost at the same time.

They also noticed the huge difference in their surroundings.

This bedroom looked nothing like their old one. The walls were different—cleaner, newer, smoother. The ceiling was different. Even the arrangement of the space had a subtle charm and comfort that their old environment had never offered.

The colors were softer, the furniture sturdier and far more inviting, and the bed... the bed felt almost unreal beneath them.

Nora’s gaze lowered to the mattress, her fingertips brushing lightly along the surface.

Her eyes glistened faintly, growing just slightly moist with emotion she didn’t bother trying to hide.

"The bed’s so... comfortable," she whispered, her voice soft and shaky.

She pressed her palms against the mattress and gave a gentle bounce—once, then twice, the springs responding with a soft, supportive push.

Each bounce made her lips curl into a small, amazed smile.

She bounced a third time, her eyes reflecting warmly in joy.

Claire simply smiled at her, easily understanding her happiness since she also felt the same way.

They had always thought they would die in their old apartment, but now, they were actually living in a far better one.

Suddenly, something else caught their attention.

It was a sweet, warm and impossible inviting aroma.

Claire paused mid-breath, her eyes widening slightly as the aroma slipped past her senses.

Nora’s reaction was immediate—a small jolt ran through her shoulders, her nose twitching delicately as she inhaled again, deeper this time.

The aroma wafted through the air like something crafted intentionally to lure them from their bedding.

It was rich, sweet, and almost heavenly, wrapping around their senses with surprising intensity.

They both sniffed the air again, each time more eagerly as the scent continued to drift in from outside the bedroom.

The kind of sweetness that made the stomach tighten in anticipation.

Claire’s stomach let out a low grumble. A heartbeat later, Nora’s followed with its own distinct growl.

They froze for a moment, then locked eyes again—both equally embarrassed, both equally aware of what their bodies had just betrayed.

Their cheeks flushed once more, a deeper shade than before, rising all the way to the tips of their ears.

They had already used up all their energy, and the aroma in the air only reminded them of how hungry they actually were.

Slowly, they got down from the bed, quickly putting on their gowns.

The gown was quite transparent, and their nipples poked through the flimsy material.

It barely did anything to hide their curvaceous figures, especially on Claire, where her deep cleavage showed through the upper part.

But they couldn’t care about their dressing at the moment, their thoughts more controlled by their growling stomachs.

With each step they took toward the door, the sweet scent thickened, and their stomachs growled in hunger.

Claire’s fingers trembled as she wrapped around the door handle, pulling it open slowly.

As the door creaked on its hinges, the sweet, savory aroma of breakfast surged outward, wrapping around them like a living thing.

It brushed against their faces, warm and inviting, filling their senses with an intensity that left them momentarily frozen.

Their eyes widened, nostrils flaring slightly as they breathed in the scent with a mixture of awe and hunger.

Stepping into the living room, the source of the irresistible fragrance became clear.

Damien was there, standing at the far end of the dining room.

He moved with deliberate, fluid precision, arranging the food on the table with meticulous care.

The sun streaming through the windows caught his black hair just right, giving it a soft shine, and the warm light highlighted the calm confidence in his posture.

As he arranged the final piece, Damien turned his head, a faint but genuine smile spreading across his face. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"You’re finally awake..." he said.

He easily caught the flimsy clothing on the two women, a perverted glint flashing across his eyes as his gaze settled on their huge breasts, which couldn’t be concealed by the material.

Meanwhile, the women’s eyes immediately fell to the table before them, and they couldn’t help themselves—they moved closer instinctively, drawn like magnets toward the spread Damien had prepared.

As they did, their mouths began to water, their stomachs growling audibly at the sweet, savory aroma filling the room.

The table was a masterpiece.

Freshly baked brioche and bagels were lined up neatly, each golden brown, perfectly rounded, and slightly glossy from a careful egg wash.

Smoked salmon, delicate and tender, was layered atop the bread with cream cheese, whipped to perfection, airy and slightly tangy.

The soft, creamy texture of the cheese contrasted beautifully with the firm, flavorful salmon, each slice carefully folded to show its delicate marbling.

On the side, tiny mounds of black caviar glimmered under the sunlight, sparkling like miniature jewels.

Every item had been arranged with a precision that made the entire table look like an art exhibit rather than a meal.

Claire’s eyes widened as she took in the sight, practically sparkling with amazement.

Nora’s jaw almost dropped in disbelief, her hands trembling slightly as she stepped forward.

They had never seen anything like this in their lives—not in their homes, not in restaurants, nowhere.

The elegance, and sheer quality of the ingredients—it was unlike anything they had experienced.

Damien smirked, finding their reactions amusing.

He had expected them to be shocked, but the intensity of it still exceeded even his expectations.

He couldn’t help but glance at the table himself.

Despite having prepared this meal, seeing it laid out now, smelling the aromas, and imagining how it would taste, he allowed himself a brief moment of disbelief.

’Does something this exquisite really exist in this world?’ he wondered.

Even back on Earth, in his memories, this kind of breakfast could only be afforded by the extremely wealthy.

It was the kind of food that graced private banquets, high-end hotels, or the tables of the richest aristocrats.

Smoked salmon, freshly whipped cream cheese, artisan brioche or bagels, and caviar—it was a delicacy few could hope to experience casually.

Yet here it was, before him and the two women, laid out as if it were the most ordinary meal in the world.

And though he knew how to cook it, that knowledge came from countless previous lives as a high-ranking chef, a master of culinary arts who had once worked in prestigious kitchens.

He remembered the tedious chopping, the folding, the careful placement of each ingredient—his Deja vu had made it feel like he had done this exact process thousands of times before.

But now, for the first time, it was different. This time, he actually enjoyed the act of cooking.

It was satisfying, and it gave him a rare kind of pleasure that he hadn’t felt in centuries of repeated lives.

Moreover, everything he needed had come from the system shop.

And while the materials had seemed premium by worldly standards, the system had considered them at most E-rank. In other words, he had spent a trivial amount in Hunter points.

He quickly calculated in his mind—ten thousand points for everything. Ten thousand points to create a feast that looked and smelled like it belonged in a five-star restaurant. That was a bargain in any sense, and he knew it.

Claire and Nora, now standing mere feet from the table, were practically frozen in place.

They inhaled deeply, their lips slightly parted, their hands hovering over the food as if unsure whether to touch it or simply admire it.

Their stomachs growled again, louder this time, betraying their hunger despite their initial hesitation.

Damien’s eyes flicked between the two women and the meal, his smirk deepening just slightly.

"Breakfast is ready," he said, the words casual but carrying a warmth that made it feel personal. "I decided to treat you two to a meal."

Claire’s breath trembled as she finally tore her gaze away from the shimmering caviar and delicate layers of salmon.

Her throat bobbed slightly, and she whispered in a soft, stunned voice, "Damien... where did you learn to cook like this...?"

Beside her, Nora nodded vigorously, still salivating as she stared at the food with glassy, hungry eyes. She swallowed again, but it didn’t help.

The aroma was too strong, too rich, and her body reacted almost instinctively.

The two women knew that Damien could cook—well, actually.

He had grown up with them. There were many times when he had chopped vegetables beside them, stirred pots, helped season stews, or baked small pastries when ingredients were available. They all cooked together sometimes. It was normal. It was familiar.

But the food in front of them now...

This was not normal.

This was something else entirely.

Not only had neither of them ever seen anything like this, but it also radiated a level of luxury far beyond anything their village could ever dream of.

The smooth shine of the cream cheese, the fresh aroma of the brioche, the delicate pink of the salmon, and the tiny glistening pearls of caviar—it all looked like something only nobles or royalty should be allowed to touch.

And beyond the luxury, the skill was undeniable. Every item was crafted with precision so exact that it didn’t feel like the work of someone who simply "knew how to cook." It felt like the work of someone who had mastered the craft on a level they couldn’t fathom.

Which made it even more shocking, because until now...

Damien was always considered below Claire when it came to cooking.