Throughout the morning of his fifth day as a teacher, Thomas was on tenterhooks.

  Whether or not his students would honour their agreement and show up at the classroom weighed heavily on him. While he woke up early, as he typically did, and had plenty of time to choose decent clothes and tidy himself up, his nerves refused to settle. And he ended up wearing the same tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt, creased tan slacks, and worn-out loafers on his way to the cafeteria, with the intention of eating his stress away.

  It was his first time at the canteen, the two-story brick structure which lay in the centre of the complex so as to be accessible to both students and professors. Rows of archways marked the entrance to the spacious hall. Since the sun had barely risen, the place was effectively vacant. And shuffling by trestle tables and the occasional lonely diner up to the gnomish dinner lady manning the counter, the man perused the board dangling overhead.

  As he wordlessly ran through the options, the diminutive, middle-aged dinner lady looked up at him with a big smile. She stood on a crate, her grey locks tucked under a hairnet, and wore an apron over her uniform.

  "Now, there's a new face! Haven't seen you around, mister! What would you like?"

  "One of everything..."

  "Say that again?"

  "One of each menu item, please..."

  Although his order usually baffled most people, the gnomish woman merely dropped her friendly smile and bore a serious expression. "Hoh? The headmaster told me you'd come."

  "Uh, Grimwald did?"

  "So you finally show yourself. I figured you chickened out. Are the stories true, then? Do you really have a bottomless pit for a stomach?"

  "I... I don't know about bottomless, but... it is true I eat a lot..."

  "Hmph, spare me your modesty. I've heard the tales of how you clear out every joint you go to, from Linxuei to Wenton. To unsuspecting restaurant owners, you're a force to be reckoned with. A beast more stomach than man!"

  "That's definitely an exaggeration..."

  And she leaned in, a twinkle in her teal eyes. "Listen, as appointed dinner lady of this prestigious academy, it's my duty to make certain every man, woman, and child leaves here absolutely stuffed—fattened up like cattle before they go about their day! The school covers all food expenses, so my number one priority is consumer satisfaction! Meaning... if your gut isn't on the cusp of bursting by the end of this meal, I've failed my job as dinner lady!"

  "Huh..."

  "Which is why I ask you, mister, not to hold back. Order to your heart's content! It's an all-you-can-eat! I won't let you leave till you can barely waddle out of here. And don't you dare lie to me! I can tell when someone is replete or not... it's all in the movements and the paunch."

  In that instant, it dawned on Thomas that there was probably another reason the cafeteria had very few visitors. "Uh... alright. I'll leave it to you to refill my meals, then," the man replied, a nervous chuckle escaping him. He wasn't sure if her zealous declaration was a joke, a challenge, or some combination of the two. And the dinner lady snapped her fingers; a line of goblin cooks scurried into action behind her.

  Pots clanged, steam hissed, and a waft of tantalising aromas permeated the hall. "Right, then! One of everything, as the man requested!" With the authority of a military commander, the gnome barked. "Double portions on the meat pies and the dragonfruit pancakes! Extra gravy on the roast wyvern shanks! And for dessert, the full platter of custard-filled rockbuns! Move it, lads!"

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  Thomas had expected a peaceful but hearty breakfast, maybe a raised eyebrow at his order, but this resembled a preparation for battle. As trays began to pile up at the unoccupied table he sat at, the man pursed his lips, hit with a feeling of déjà vu. And when the last dish was stacked before him, Thomas was staring down an edible fortress. Eggs, bacon, sausages, pastries, stews, and much more had crowded the surface.

  And the dinner lady loomed nearby. "Well? What're you waiting for? A royal decree? Dig in! Make up for the times you missed out on breakfast!"

  A little over three hours remained before classes commenced; the clock was ticking. Not wanting to be late for the important occasion, the man proceeded to feast on the courses before him, first with his eyes, then with his mouth. And he cut a slice of the meat pie to begin with.

  A warm, flaky crust crumbled between Thomas' teeth as the savoury juices of the pie burst onto his tongue. Only now did it hit him how starved he was. He swallowed quickly, going for the dragonfruit pancakes. Their vibrant hue of fuchsia was almost too bright to be real, but the sweet, tangy flavour proved otherwise. It struck him that the gnomish woman's passion translated into more than just theatrics—this was some of the best grub he'd ever tasted.

  Somewhere between the fourth plate and the sixth, a sizeable crowd began to trickle in, forming a loose semicircle. A few early risers who'd braved the canteen's overbearing service had espied the mountain of food and whispered among themselves, gaping in awe as Thomas worked his way through the banquet. And a group of goblin cooks occasionally peeked out from the kitchen, exchanging bets on how far he'd get.

  For every dish the man devoured, another would take its spot.

  Confident in this strategy of hers, the dinner lady cackled, believing she'd already won. Yet, hours passed, and Thomas never once appeared as if he would slow down. Word spread like wildfire as he reached his one-hundredth plate, and by then, half the campus had swarmed the building to witness him finish his sumptuous repast. And the gnomish woman gaped at the man—her chances of filling him up diminishing with each clean platter brought back.

  "That man's eaten all the shrimp, ma'am!" A goblin informed the dinner lady, his tall white hat askew. "And our whole supply of breakfast ingredients!"

  "T-that's no man. That's a remorseless eating machine!"

  Downing the final dish—deep-fried quippers and chips—Thomas gave a loud belch and patted his belly. It'd been months since he'd eaten this much; the gnomish woman was not kidding when she said her number one priority was consumer satisfaction. And when the man set his fork down, towers of plates discarded behind him, the room erupted in applause. With the stockroom and kitchen staff exhausted, the dinner lady collapsed to her knees, conceding defeat.

  Thomas meekly bowed at the cheering spectators and grinned sheepishly, embarrassed by the attention he received. Climbing onto the seat beside him, the gnomish woman put her hand on his shoulder and wrenched out a grin. "I-I underestimated you, mister," she said, voice trembling with a mix of fatigue and loss. "Never in all my decades have I met anybody who was able to eat through the cafeteria's entire reserves..."

  "T-the entire reserves?" Eyes wide, the man sputtered. "Then what about lunchtime and dinnertime?"

  "We'll be closed until we restock tomorrow. You've practically eaten us out of commission."

  "S... sorry about that..."

  "Which is why," she whispered in his ear, "if you plan on eating here, tell us a day in advance, capiche?"

  "I-I'll keep that in mind..." Thomas scratched his cheek.

  "You better!"

  Suddenly, amid the jubilation, the bell tower rang out. Checking the clock above the counter, the man froze, and his heart dropped. Upon registering the time, he shot up from his seat in a panic. "Oh, crap! I'm late!" And hastily, he squeezed through the gathering of students, teachers, and staff and bolted out of the cafeteria. Sprinting across the campus and into the school building, Thomas slid to a halt in front of his classroom.

  Yet, when he stepped up to the entrance, he paused, his chest rising and falling with hurried pants and his ponytail dishevelled. For a few seconds, Thomas faltered. What if none of his pupils were there? What if all his efforts had been for nothing? What if the only thing waiting for him inside was the same desolate, ruined classroom? Such thoughts gnawed at him, threatening to undo the confidence he had painstakingly built over the past few days.

  Taking a deep breath, however, he shook his head. "No, I can't think like that. If I don't believe in those kids, how can I expect them to believe in me?" He tightened his grip on the handle. And clinging to the faith he'd placed in his students, Thomas steeled himself and pushed the door open.