I'm Beryl Ankokuno. I don't look like a small business owner, but I am! As you know, I rent a small shop with a peculiar hole in the back wall and sell crepes. I'm the boss of La Crepe Shop! And my employees are Jadeite, the muttering misogynist, Nephrite, the insubordinate charmer, Zoisite, the flamboyant primadonna, and Kunzite, the menacing robot. The four of them are so useless, I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. But anyway, I just have to do my best!

"Everyone, we have a serious problem," I said to my four employees. "Our expenses are high, and we're not making nearly enough sales to put us in the black. We need to adjust our business model, and I've asked you all to prepare proposals. Jadeite, why don't we start with yours?"

"Yes, m'lady." (My eyelid twitched slightly. None of my attempts at getting him to curb his weirdo behavior toward women had been successful.) "Nowadays, the foolish schoolgirls of Japan are very interested in crepes with decorations shaped like cartoon characters. I've calculated that if we can secure a licensing deal with a popular cartoon company, we will be able to gather a large amount of profit."

"And how will we get the company to agree to this?"

"I'm not quite certain."

"I'll…let you keep working on that."

Nephrite cut in, "If you ask me, that is a ridiculous way to conduct business."

"Really?" I asked, eyebrows raised. I agreed with him, but I knew that we would have to go with Jadeite's plan if nobody proposed anything better. "Then, Nephrite, what would you like us to do?"

Pushing Jadeite aside, Nephrite stepped forward with a complicated diagram in his hand. "I have analyzed the popularity levels of various food critics and cross-referenced this data with their movement patterns and favorite flavors. If we can plan a menu specifically catered to their tastes at the moment when they're most likely to write a hit article on us, we can achieve all the popularity we need in one go."

"You seem very confident," Zoisite piped up, leaning casually against the back wall.

"Nobody asked you, Zoisite," Nephrite growled.

"Ooh, temper. You'd better watch out if those star food critics find out that under your eight pounds of luscious red hair, you're just a pervert," he purred.

"Go away!"

"I believe it's Zoisite's turn to present his idea, Nephrite," I interrupted.

"Yes, Beryl. As you asked, I have researched the classic crepe recipes from the golden age of crepe making in France, and I have discovered that there were Seven Great Crepes which were far more popular than the others. Their recipes have been lost until now, but I am hard at work researching how to recreate them. With these seven crepes combined, our menu will be unstoppable."

"Very nice. But you forgot to mention what happened to two of the seven recipes you found," Nephrite added, barely concealing the gloating tone in his voice.

"Oh?" I asked.

"This useless sleazeball let them get stolen by that guy at Tuxedo Crepes down the street," Nephrite grinned.

Zoisite held up his hands in self-defense. "Chef Beryl, wait! I'll get them back, I swear! He might be a brilliant medical student and dashingly handsome, but I've got a plan—"

"That medical student stole my recipes?!" I hadn't intended for it to come out as a shriek.

"I will make certain that we correct this error," Kunzite said, stepping forward.

"It's not my fault I got distracted by those sea-blue eyes," Zoisite pouted, playing with a strand of his hair.

"Stop. I…do not wish to hear more about this topic." I took a long, calming breath. "Kunzite, please tell me your proposal." If you don't have something better, I might have to close up shop and go beg for a job at Tuxedo Crepes.

"I believe that Zoisite has the superior proposal."

"And I believe that I asked every one of you to submit an idea."

"When a sufficient business model has been identified, further brainstorming is useless."

"You're so hot when you're being logical," Zoisite sighed.

I said nothing, merely stirring the pot of batter in increasingly intent circles. I will not strangle my employees, I thought. I will not strangle my employees. I will not…

《Such rage. This energy is closely aligned to my own.》

I turned toward the back of the shop. I had clearly just heard someone talking to me—but there was nobody there, only the two closed doors.

"So whose plan will we follow?" Nephrite pressed.

I blinked, having trouble coming back to reality. "No…none of them. I have not seen enough evidence to convince me. Keep working on your own until you have some results to show me. Until then, leave me alone. I'm very busy."

I stared down into the pot of batter. In the back of my mind, I could swear I heard a voice quietly laughing.