Jincheng City. The Dragon Palace.
The atmosphere in the Dragon Palace was not one of cold, CEO domination. It was one of grease and cheese.
Li Wusheng sat at the head of the long mahogany dining table. He was still wearing his tuxedo from the gala, though the tie was loosened. In front of him, on a plate made of bone china worth more than a car, sat a slice of Pepperoni Pizza.
He ate it with a silver knife and fork.
"This dish," Li announced, dabbing his mouth with a silk napkin. "It is... rustic. Yet, the flavor profile is complex. The tomato acidity balances the lipid density of the cheese."
"It's pizza, Daddy," Ignis said. The 5-year-old Genius Son was sitting on top of the table (a violation of every etiquette rule), stuffing crusts into his mouth. "It is the fuel of hackers."
Elara Vance sat to Li's right. She wasn't wearing the red dress anymore. The Script had reset her into a silk nightgown that was demure yet expensive.
