Pokémon, but cultural invasion

"Team Five, barbecue grill!"

"Sixth team, juice mixing station!"

"Everyone, get ready to go!"

"You waiter, get out of here!"

Hearing the commotion, Xiao Kuan went out of the office and saw an unbelievable scene: the mice were cooking.

Everything is going on in an orderly manner.

"We're still short one waiter!"

Xiao Kuan muttered to himself.

He changed his clothes, put on roller skates, and took on the role of a waiter.

One dish after another was delivered from the kitchen by Xiao Kuan to the table of each diner.

"Be careful with butter sole, use less salt and more butter! Only use Mimolette cheese!"

"Making a salad should be as meticulous as painting; don't put too much balsamic vinegar in the platter!"

"Don't let the cream separate, keep stirring!"

"The scallops need to be blanched!"

Xiaomi moved among the pots of delicious food, saying, "Put down your spoons, I'm checking the taste!"

"Very good, too salty; very good, too bland."

The cheerful violins, tubas, and trumpets intertwine to create a rhythmic melody for cooking.

Upon entering the kitchen, Sweetie, who had changed her mind and returned, almost vomited at the sight of the chaotic scene.

Xiao Kuan grabbed her as she turned to leave.

“Listen, tell me what these rats are going to cook to deal with Cobb before I change my mind.”

Xiaomi pulled a page from the God of Cookery's recipe book—mixed vegetable stew.

"Mixed vegetable stew, is this a country-style dish?"

"Are you really going to feed Mr. Cobb this?"

When Sweetie asked her question, Xiaomi nodded firmly.

After changing into her chef's uniform, she became Xiaomi's sous chef.

During the cooking process, Sweetie discovered that Xiaomi's cooking method completely deviated from the God of Cookery's recipe.

As the music ended, Xiaomi's mixed vegetable stew was ready and Xiao Kuan carried it to Ke Bo's dining table.

"Mixed vegetable stew? Have they lost their minds?"

Mr. Shi, who was disguised and had ordered the same dish, sneered.

...

As the audience waited with bated breath and trepidation, Ke Bo tasted the special mixed vegetable stew and revealed an expression of being overwhelmed by nostalgia.

The pen slipped silently from my hand, and the screen shifted and the stars moved.

Kobo seemed to have returned to a summer many years ago. He was no longer the acerbic critic, but a little boy who was frustrated in his cycling practice and was loved by his mother.

The warm, golden evening light flashed by.

Kobo's eyes widened, his wrinkled face relaxed, and a smile unconsciously appeared on his face.

He chased after his memories, happily devouring the mixed vegetable stew bite by bite.

“I’ve forgotten the last time I asked a waiter to convey my respect to the chef.”

He asked to see the chef, but Xiao Kuan said he had to wait until the other guests had finished eating.

Before the restaurant closed, Cobo finally met the chef he had been longing to see—a little rattata.

That evening, sitting at his typewriter, Cobb gazed at the bright moon and sparse stars and wrote down some thought-provoking words.

“Critics sometimes face a tricky problem: discovering and protecting new things.”

"The world is often not kind to new geniuses and new things; new things need friends even more."

“Last night I encountered something new, an unparalleled delicacy from an unexpected chef.”

"To be fair, that meal and his chef challenged my views on food in a revolutionary way, making me re-examine myself. They completely shook my beliefs."

“In the past, I openly despised and attacked the God of Cookery’s famous quote, ‘Anyone can cook,’ but now I truly understand its meaning.”

"Not everyone can become a great artist, but great artists can come from anywhere."

"Today, the God of Cookery is run by several talented chefs who come from humble backgrounds and have no illustrious origins."

"But I think they are undoubtedly the best chefs in all of Carlos."

"I will visit the God of Cookery again soon to savor the food."

...

"But the only certainty in life is its uncertainty."

Xiaomi's monologue once again leads the camera into a completely new scene; last time it was the beginning, this time it's the end.

“We must release Boss Shi and that health inspector; of course, they leaked the secret.”

"It has nothing to do with the food. When people hear that there are rats in the kitchen, the restaurant naturally can't stay open."

After the closure notice was posted, the star rating on the billboard advertising the God of Cookery that stood above the restaurant building was restored to five stars.

“Cobb lost his reputation and his job, but there’s no need to feel sorry for him.”

Hidden on the flower stand at the entrance of a newly opened restaurant is a gathering place for the little Radamen.

At the small dining table lit by a dim candle, Xiao Mi introduced to the young members of the clan, "He is now an excellent investor in micro and small enterprises."

He seemed very happy.

A naive young kid asked, "How did you know?"

"Look!"

Xiaomi parted the dense flower bushes behind her; to the right of the flower stand was the packed restaurant hall.

Ke Bo drank alone, enjoying the soothing music.

To the left of the flower stand is the restaurant's kitchen, and Sweetie gestured to it to indicate the time.

"I have to go now, get ready to start work."

Xiaomi skillfully lowered the hanging basket, washed her hands, and then steamed them to disinfect them.

"You know what he likes."

Sweetie carried a mixed vegetable stew, and poured the millet broth over it.

Xiao Kuan carried it out.

"Would you like a dessert, Mr. Cobb?"

"Do you still need to ask?"

Which one do you want?

Ke Bo turned to look at the observation window of the kitchen and waved his hand: "Give me a surprise!"

Xiaomi looked at him and gave him an "OK" sign.

The camera pans up and zooms out, bringing more and more diners into the frame: little rallies picnicking on the flower stand and customers lining up in long queues at the restaurant entrance.

And the openwork iron sign hanging on the restaurant's door frame—a rat wearing a chef's hat.

It is nearby, while the Prism Tower stands in the distant sunset.

The screen went dark, and the words "The End" appeared.

In the audience, Wanlong put down her pen.

"Clap!"

She clapped without hesitation, thanking Ting-hsiang for bringing such a wonderful film to everyone.

The other audience members, still immersed in the story of Xiao Kuan and Xiaomi, suddenly woke up and burst into enthusiastic applause.

"What a...wonderful story."

Caldelia murmured, moved not only by the movie, but also by the thunderous applause in the theater.

As a superpowered individual, she can sense other people's emotions, and only Gadriya knows just how terrifying the allure of the Tingxiang Cinema truly is.

A single movie managed to move over two hundred people through a rollercoaster of emotions, ultimately transforming them into genuine感动 (a deep sense of being moved).

It sounded as if hundreds of people were shouting in unison in Gadria's ears, conveying excitement and exhilaration.

"Witnessing their friendship made the trip worthwhile."

Cynthia's butterfly-like eyelashes trembled; she was utterly amazed.

Depicting the encounter and friendship between Pokémon and humans is her favorite type of story.

The people of Miare, the city where the film is set, also paid tribute to the film's production team, and they were also captivated by the local art of praising Carlos's cuisine.

At the time, they had no idea that this movie would soon spark a massive search for the "Little Rada" restaurant in Miare.

Chapter 133 Darkness Descends

"Wow!"

When the cheers that soared into the sky echoed for the third time along Autumn Avenue in Miare, it meant that another screening of "Ratatouille" had come to an end.

Having learned their lesson from the experience of "Crazy Elf City," physical cinemas no longer schedule only two screenings a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, for new films from Tingxiang.

The black electronic screen in the theater displayed a dense array of timestamps and a series of images from "Ratatouille," even during the midnight to early morning hours when people should be resting.

People who had managed to snag tickets and waited for a long time poured in, while those who had finished watching the film came out, chattering about the emotions the movie had evoked in them.

This time, the stage was set in the Carlos region, which made the people of Carlos, especially those in Miare, feel deeply proud.

“I must apologize for my previous lukewarm attitude toward ‘Crazy Elf City’. It was an excellent film, but I was blinded by the foolish artistic arrogance of the Carlos people.”

A gentleman walked out of the screening room, sighing repeatedly. His companion chimed in, "That's right, that son of a bitch, the Carlos newspaper, is using taxpayers' money to sow discord between the people of Carlos and the Tingxiang Film Society."

"I am impressed by Tingxiang's outstanding artistic vision and refined taste. Short-sighted newspaper reporters simply do not understand the broad-mindedness of Tingxiang Film Studio."

"Look at how Tingxiang sees Carlos, and how the newspaper sees Tingxiang? It's truly shameful."

This is a small group of young people whose minds are filled with regionalism and national pride. Their attitude towards foreign things is the most difficult to deal with.

Even they were conquered, let alone the ordinary Carlos.

This terrible situation left Alion, who had been sitting in the corner of the hall and quietly observing all day, feeling extremely discouraged.

He was among the first viewers of "Ratatouille" that morning, and as expected, Teigo's films maintained a high standard, captivating even Alion, who had been working in the film industry for many years.

But a line from the movie jolted Alion awake.

"Being a critic is too easy. We're high and mighty, facing no risks, and we can freely evaluate workers and their contributions with our pens..."

Mr. Cobb's self-reflection did not resonate with Allion at all; on the contrary, it struck a nerve.

The sore spot of a film critic who makes easy money, is rotten in the mud, self-centered, yet extremely sensitive.

The pain was so intense that Alion wanted to immediately wield his pen and tear this film, which was full of veiled criticism and hidden metaphors, to shreds.

But anger can never overcome reason.

Hearing the thunderous applause in the screening room, Allion knew that he and these Carlos scoundrels did not share the same joys and sorrows.

Rushing out to start a war would only make one look like a clown.

He stayed in the lobby, hoping to see different expressions on the faces of the movie fans coming and going.

Without exception, everyone who left the theater was beaming with happiness and satisfaction, muttering about watching it with the elf next time.