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I shook my head, still wary, watching his arms dance around with unmatched coordination — chopping, stirring, seasoning, and sautéing.
His multitasking was truly a sight to behold.
A faint aroma wafted through the room, tantalizing my senses.
It smelled delicious, which further added to the surrealism of the situation.
“Would you like a taste?” he asked, extending one arm that held a spoon dripping with some sort of sauce.
Reluctantly, not wanting to offend, I leaned in and tasted.
It was an explosion of flavors — sweet, tangy, with a hint of spice.
It was unlike anything I had ever tasted before.
“It’s good,” I admitted.
Ikhax chuckled, looking pleased. “That’s just the base sauce. Wait till the entire dish is ready.”
We chatted as he cooked.
About the various planets he’d visited, the exotic cuisines he loved, even about the latest space-fashion trends.
He was well-informed, charismatic, and oddly charming in his own peculiar way.
The elephant in the room — our potential business — remained untouched, hanging heavy in the air.
Instead, we chatted as if we were old acquaintances catching up after years, and not two individuals meeting for potentially perilous negotiations.
It was clear Ikhax enjoyed this game of cat and mouse.
His ever-present joviality, however, was a thin veil, a façade that barely concealed the danger lurking beneath.
I had to be cautious, treading the line between being amiable and assertive.
As the minutes passed, the dish he was preparing seemed to be nearing completion.
With a flourish, Ikhax scooped the steaming concoction into a transparent container, which he then slid into a large, alien-looking device — presumably his version of an oven.
With the dish now baking, the room’s ambiance shifted.
The cozy kitchen no longer felt like a refuge.
I felt the weight of his gaze, intense and calculating.
The friendly charade was over.
Ikhax clapped his hands, all four of them, producing a sound akin to a drumroll.
His smile, previously warm and inviting, now took on a predatory curve.
“Let’s get down to business,” he declared, his tone dripping with anticipation.
The moment the words left his mouth, the whimsicality of the evening’s earlier exchange dissipated, replaced by a cold, businesslike air.
The delicate aroma of the dish still baking in the oven clashed with the palpable tension now settling in the room.
“I have your escape all prepared for you,” Ikhax began, his deep voice echoing slightly in the chamber. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ve arranged it all.”
