Chuuya blinks, not quite understanding where he is. Immediately, the familiar surroundings of his office in the main building of the port mafia appear before his eyes.. But for some reason there are two armchairs and there is a dining table, and actually this is no longer his office in the port mafia, but a restaurant hall? Of course, he's dreaming again. Well, after not dreaming for almost his entire conscious life, it's damn hard to get used to it, especially considering the suspiciousness of these dreams. And this 'suspiciousness' is sitting right in the chair opposite him and flipping through the menu. Chuuya looks around, noticing that there is no one in the restaurant and the whole room, except for their table, seems blurred. Chuuya sighs and opens his own menu, deciding not to pay attention to dumb Dazai yet. The font on the menu, as in all the books in his dreams, is completely incomprehensible, but from the strange images of dishes that also do not resemble real ones, Chuuya assumes that this is French cuisine. "Hey, bastard, what are you going to eat?"