Chapter 1:
The Chefs’ Guild and the Contest
Evening fell on the day we left Seedrun. Soon, we’d arrive at Bulbola, the greatest of all harbors in the kingdom of Granzell.
The journey should have taken us ten days, but we got there under a day with a little help from the Water Dragon. It was immensely fast, and no monsters dared accost us.
However, the Water Dragon couldn’t make port at Bulbola. Not at the moment, anyway. That wasn’t to say Bulbola’s harbors weren’t big enough—no, they had more than enough room for a Water Dragon or two. But Water Dragons required advance notice to make port at the harbor city. I say “advance notice,” but with all the paperwork involved, it was more akin to gaining authorization.
Which was fair enough, really. The Water Dragon was a B-Threat monster. A single one could sink a small island nation. So making port was difficult, even if the creature was under contract.
In modern Earth terms, it was like an aircraft carrier shuffling into a civilian harbor. The slightest misunderstanding could trigger an all-out war, and panic was definitely a given.
Instead, we contacted the Lucille Trade Association, which was based in Bulbola. The Water Dragon would set its anchor on the outskirts, and a smaller vessel from the Trade Association would come and pick us up.
“Until we meet again!”
“Yeah!”
“Woof!”
From the deck of the merchant vessel, Fran waved goodbye to Miriam.
Miriam, the second princess of Seedrun, had no time for leisure. As captain of the Water Dragon, she needed to return to her homeland immediately.
The revolution was still burning in her people’s minds, and the state was still unstable. There was no time for detours. Fult and Satya, prince and princess of Phyllius, joined Fran to see Miriam off.
Fran, who didn’t want to say goodbye to her new friend, looked gloomy on the top deck of the ship.
It’s not like this is our last goodbye. We’ll see her again someday.
Hm…
Despite my best efforts, Fran only gave a dismissive nod.
Oh, look at you. Do you really want her to see you mope like this? Smile. It’ll make Miriam feel better, I promise.
“Hm… Bye-bye, Miriam!”
“Indeed! Bye-bye, Fran!”
There you go.
Even a forced smile could chase away a bad mood.
The Water Dragon turned and sped off into the distance. Soon, it was nothing more than a speck.
“We should go into Bulbola.”
At Rengill’s command, the merchant ship made its way towards land. It wasn’t long before we made port at Bulbola. We walked down the ramp, and it was time to say goodbye to Fult and Satya.
“You’ve done a great deal for us, Fran.”
“Thank you so much for everything.”
“Hm.”
This time, Fran wasn’t particularly bothered by the parting. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, just that their next meeting had already been decided.
“Well, we must go to the Count’s mansion,” said Fult.
“Promise me you’ll come find us when you’re finished with your errands,” Satya added. “The mansion is in the center of the noble district. You can’t miss it.”
“We’ll tell the Count all about you, Fran.”
Fran nodded. “All right.”
Initially, she’d refused their offer to stay at the Count’s mansion. Fran wasn’t refined enough to deal with members of high society, and there was Jet to worry about. Still, she couldn’t refuse when the chamberlain asked her personally.
Sellid took a liking to her after the episode at Seedrun. I suppose it was inevitable, given that she saved his life. Of course, the old chamberlain accompanied the invitation with one of his usual backhanded comments, saying “It does Their Highnesses no good to associate with you, but I suppose they have taken a liking.” This was typical. Sellid had played the role of cranky chamberlain for so long that I didn’t think he could speak like a normal person anymore.
“We’ll be seeing you.”
“Do take care of yourself.”
“You take care too, Jet.”
“Woof!”
The prince and his entourage got into a carriage prepared by the Lucille Trade Association. Once we’d seen them off, Rengill came to speak to Fran.
“We’ve finally arrived.”
“Thanks for everything, Rengill.”
“Oh, please. I’ve done nothing.”
Fran, the little adventurer, was growing friendly with Rengill, a member of a great merchant association. They’d not known each other for very long, but they faced death together in the Seedrunian revolution. Back then, Rengill had felt inadequate for letting Fran do all the fighting. He held Fran’s hand and bowed his head.
“Without your help, none of us would be in Bulbola. On behalf of myself and my crew, I thank you. Nothing we can do could ever repay you, but if you need anything, do not hesitate to call on the Lucille Trade Association. We shall do everything we can.”
“All right.”
I had every intention of asking for help the first chance we got. The trade association was very influential.
Fran shook Rengill’s hand and left the harbor.
We’re going to need to stop by the local Adventurers’ Guild.
After everything that had happened, we still needed to turn in our completed security job. The circumstances were iffy, but the Phyllians didn’t seem to mind. Fult sent one of his attendants to the guild as soon as we made port. All we needed to do was claim the reward.
“We also need to sell our monster materials.”
Right.
We had collected a decent amount on the way here. It would be good to offload them.
“I want to check out the town, too.”
Bulbola was a huge city. There were lots of places to see.
“Woof, woof, woof.”
“You wanna walk around town too, Jet?”
“Woof!”
Jet was all for it. I wanted to check out the town as well, so a walk was the first order of business for this dog.
Let’s see what Bulbola has in store.
“Hm.”
“Woof!”
We could look for the Adventurers’ Guild as we walked. Two birds with one stone.
Bulbola. Granzell’s Maritime Melting Pot and its second biggest city. The gigantic harbor could famously hold a hundred vessels, and over twenty countries traded within its walls. People said there was nothing you couldn’t buy here.
It was bustling and prosperous beyond our wildest dreams. The road to the city district was as packed as a Japanese train station. The buildings were large, too. Even the local guard office was four stories high. Alessa was the first town I saw when I came to this world, and the guard station at Bulbola was at least ten times the size of the one in Alessa.
The city must need that many soldiers to ensure its smooth operation. Its scale and population were on a whole other level.
Wow, there are so many shops here. I don’t know which ones to visit.
“Amazing.”
“Woof.”
Stalls lined both sides of the main street, and the sight made Fran and Jet’s eyes sparkle with wonder. Mine too, of course. The stalls sold a myriad of food and souvenirs, and the main road had everything from popular shops with people lining up outside, to seedy-looking places selling contraband.
Being a melting pot, the foods came from all over the world. I saw a stall selling something that looked like Japanese oden. Naturally, there were western-type food stalls as well.
“Whoooa.”
“Aroo.”
Fran and Jet looked at them with gluttonous eyes. We had money, so I told them to eat whatever they liked.
I soon realized the error of my ways.
“So good.”
“Arf!”
“That one, too.”
“Woof, woof.”
“Munch, munch.”
“Urf.”
It was actually easier to account for the time they weren’t stuffing food down their throats.
Fran and Jet were quite a sight to behold: a small girl holding an inordinate amount of food and her big black dog continuously munching on something. Fran even got a round of applause for gobbling a large shish kebab in one bite.
While they ate everything in sight, we came upon a large square. It was huge, at least two hundred meters in diameter, and the buildings around it were appropriately massive and gorgeous. It reminded me of Marunouchi or Times Square.
As I gazed at the buildings, one of the signs caught my eye.
That’s…
What is it, Teacher?
That building over there.
I’d happened upon the banner of the Chefs’ Guild: a fork and knife crossed over each other.
Never seen that before.
What kind of guild was it?
“Do you want to check it out?”
Please.
There were other big guilds here, like the Blacksmith’s and the Merchant’s. I even saw the sign for an embassy. The Chefs’ Guild must be reputable if it could stand side by side with these giants.
“Here?”
Yeah. Although, it doesn’t look like Jet can go in…
The sign on the door said: “No pets or familiars allowed.” Understandable, since they worked with food.
What if he stayed in the shadows?
That should be fine. Jet, no coming out while we’re inside, okay?
“Arf…”
Jet let out a dejected whine before retreating to the shadows. He’d expected to be fed well here.
“Excuse me.”
The lobby was luxurious and looked a lot like the Adventurers’ Guild back in Alessa. The wooden floors and the reception area were exactly alike. However, there was carpet on the floors here, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling, giving this guild a much grander feel.
I guess guilds are all built to similar specifications.
The main difference was the people here were not adventurers, but cooks and merchants. As we looked around the lobby, the receptionist called out to Fran.
“Hello, little girl. May I help you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Um…?”
She was completely flabbergasted by Fran’s brazen honesty.
“I’ve never seen a Chefs’ Guild before.”
“Aah, I see. I suppose you don’t see much of us in other cities. Bulbola is called the cook’s paradise! There are so many foodstuffs and ingredients flowing in from other countries that it eventually became necessary to establish the Chefs’ Guild.”
The receptionist patiently explained everything to Fran, the way she would to a child. I expected no less from the face of an established guild. This place was home to chefs, merchants, and anyone else involved in the food industry. Membership was initially limited to chefs, but now initiates were allowed in too, along with anyone with a healthy curiosity about recipes.
“That sounds great.”
Fran didn’t do much cooking, but she did appreciate a delicious meal. She nodded, approving of a guild that existed to help the cooks whose food she devoured.
The receptionist mistook Fran’s interest for something else.
“Are you a cook yourself, young lady?”
“Maybe?”
“O-oh…”
Fran did no cooking despite her Level 10 Cooking skill.
“But my teacher is a master chef,” she continued, sensing the receptionist’s confusion.
“I-I see.”
“His cooking is the best.”
“Is he a member of this guild?”
“No.”
“Would he like to be a member then? If he performs well, he will have access to exclusive ingredients and the ability to trade recipes. And there are many other benefits. We would love to have him on board.”
Special benefits, you say? Now I was interested. I wondered if Fran was allowed membership, as well. She was already in the Adventurers’ Guild, so I was worried that would be a problem.
“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. In fact, most of our members have dual membership,” the receptionist said plainly. “We have fewer prospective members than the Adventurers’ Guild. No one would sign up with us if they only had to choose one. Think of us as a casual guild you can devote time to on the side. We were founded as a support group for cooks, after all.”
“Then I’d like to sign up.”
“Do you have a Bulbolan trade license?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then I will register you as a cook.”
I guessed the membership categories were separated into cook and merchant.
“That’ll work.”
“Cooks are required to take the entrance exam, however. Will that be all right?”
We would gain the convenience of buying ingredients from the guild, so I guess it was a small price to pay.
“Exam? What kind?”
“One of our judges will taste your cooking and, if you pass, you get signed up. We have a prep kitchen solely for examination purposes, or you could bring your dish in with you if that’s more your flavor.”
Would Fran be able to sign me up, then? I would love to be a member.
“Yes. All you need to be a member of the Chefs’ Guild is your name and the Guild Card.”
I thought the guild would be more exacting about this kind of thing. I guess the receptionist lady wasn’t kidding when she said this was casual. The guild card also doubled as a membership card and a points card.
“Can I just give you the dishes I have on hand now?”
“I suppose…”
For the umpteenth time today, the receptionist had a puzzled look on her face. Fran didn’t look like she had any dishes on her, so the receptionist was surprised that she wanted to present her food immediately.
“I’ll go with this and this.”
“Huh? Oh, is that an item bag?”
“Here.”
Fran took out some curry and skewered boar. The fragrant aroma of spices filled the lobby and attracted the attention of the chefs. I would be judged on my curry, and Fran on her skewers. She had actually cooked the boar skewers herself too, so it wasn’t cheating.
“Ah. Wait a moment, please. I’ll go get the judge.”
“You’re not judging these?”
“Oh, no. One of our top managers will do the judging.”
After having two plates of food shoved in her face, the flustered receptionist left in a hurry. As we waited for her to return, I asked Fran about something that was bugging me.
I know it’s an entrance exam and all, but are you sure you want to use some of your curry for it?
She hated it when she had to share her favorite dish. What had gotten into her today?
Your cooking’s going to be tested, Teacher. We can’t present anything that’s less than perfect. Your curry’s going to knock the socks off that judge, Fran said, nostrils flaring.
O-oh. Thanks for your vote of confidence, Fran.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Right this way.” The receptionists called for us five minutes later, and we followed her to a grand dining room. The table was adorned with a beautiful cloth, and the furniture looked exquisite.
“So, you’re the new chef.”
“Hm.”
An old man with sharp eyes was waiting for us. He looked like a gourmet stickler or like one of those food critics who never gave anything a good rating. Now I was nervous.
“Meckam, here is what you will be judging today.” The receptionist presented the two dishes to the old man.
“There’s two?”
“This one’s mine.”
“A skewer… all right, let’s have a taste.”
Meckam took the boar skewer and examined it. He sniffed it for the aroma before putting the skewer in his mouth. He chewed slowly to savor and examine the flavor.
His lack of expression scared me. The taste test only took seconds, but it felt like minutes.
“Hm. That was all right,” he said after finishing Fran’s skewer.
“Can’t help it.”
Fran knew the limits of her cooking and had no reason to be upset. The skewers were a snack she’d made on a whim after getting her Cooking skill.
“But it wasn’t bad, by any means. Your dish showed an amount of skill. It showcased your desire to make good food under less than ideal circumstances.”
Well, then. The old man knew his stuff. Fran did try her best when she made those skewers. Yes, she’d cooked them without preparation, but she’d put her back into it, the way she always did when the chips were down.
The skewers themselves were grilled for thirty minutes using a combination of magic and technique. We used ingredients and seasoning you could find anywhere, but I still think they came out delicious. Unfortunately, Fran lost all interest in cooking when she realized that it took time. The examiner’s insight into Fran’s psyche was terrifying, considering all he had to work with was one skewer.
“You pass.”
“Hm.”
Good. If the examiner thought Fran’s boar skewers worthy of admission, then he should have no problems with my curry. Actually, what was the point of me being a member of the Chefs’ Guild? We could just piggyback Fran’s membership, since she was already in.
No.
Fran insisted that we continued with the examination.
Why?
I want to shock him with your cooking.
She didn’t care about membership. Fran only wanted to show the snobby old man the deliciousness that was curry. She confidently shoved the plate in front of him.
“This one next.”
“Interesting. It looks like an Azelian dish but with a richer aroma. High-quality ingredients must’ve gone into making this.”
“It’s called curry. Teacher made it.”
“An original invention of your master?”
“Yeah. This is the ultimate dish. It took blood, sweat, and tears to create.”
No, Fran! No! Curry is a dish you can find on any old street corner back on Earth! It is a simple dish to make as long as you have the right spices!
“Well, I’m looking forward to this.”
“Curry is the greatest food in the world.”
“I hope it is.”
The old gourmet took a spoonful of curry—the dish Fran had exaggerated beyond salvation—and examined it just as he had with Fran’s skewers. He inhaled before putting it in his mouth.
“Oh?”
“Is it good?”
“Hmm.”
“What do you think? You just had the pinnacle of cuisine.”
Fran helped herself to some curry too, unable to hold back her appetite. She nodded along with the old gourmet, looking very satisfied. Meckam’s nodding made her think that victory was hers, but the old man had other plans.
“It isn’t bad.” But upon finishing his curry, Meckam had a dissatisfied look. “But was that all? I think it is a little too soon to call this the pinnacle of all cooking.”
As soon as the old man finished his sentence—
“What the hell did you just say?”
Fran became full of wrath at such blasphemy. She turned her murderous intent on the old gourmet, a fury that was usually reserved for combat.
Fran, what are you doing?!
“Curry is the most delicious thing in the world.”
Wait! Stop! Oh God, she’s already using Intimidate! You’re going to knock him unconscious, Fran! Although considering his age, he might have a heart attack and die… Is the old man okay?
“It is delicious, yes. But I cannot call it the most delicious dish in the world.”
Oh, wow. The old man was perfectly fine. He hadn’t even broken a sweat! His nerves were steeled by years of food criticism. I expected nothing less from a master.
Fran, calm down! You can’t fly into a rage over curry!
Still, the anger in Fran’s thoughts remained.
I am calm!
You are not. Let’s just hear him out! Okay? Maybe he has a valid reason. Just please take your hand off my hilt!
Curry wasn’t just Fran’s favorite food, it was a dish that her teacher once made only for her. A dish which brought joy to her friends. Most of all, it had been her first meal when she was freed from a life of slavery. I might be exaggerating, but curry was a monumental dish for her.
I didn’t think she’d get so angry over it, though.
“I’ll hear you out.”
“As far as the flavor goes,” Meckam explained, remaining unfazed. “It is quite well rounded, despite having some room for improvement. I must also concede that I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.”
“Hm!”
Fran nodded in agreement, and then tilted her head in confusion as he went on.
“But I cannot feel the dignity of a chef in this dish!”
“Dignity?”
“Call it pride, self-respect, honor, whatever you want. It is something that every chef must have. It is a vital, though unseen, ingredient in every dish. But I cannot sense that here. This curry was properly cooked, but it is only home cooking.”
Well, yeah, of course. I wanted Fran to eat something nice, but the whole point of one-pot cooking was to make a huge batch of something for future meals. I was careful not to mess up but never thought I was going to redefine the very essence of cooking itself. I cooked it with the mindset of someone who had a maxed-out Cooking skill and wanted something nice to eat.
But this old man was something else. Nothing escaped his palate. Fran took him for an enemy, but I didn’t really hate him. In fact, I was kind of touched to meet a character right out of my old cooking manga.
“So long as a dish lacks the dignity of a chef, I cannot consider it to be the best in the world!”
“Gununu.”
I’d never heard someone actually say ‘Gununu’ before.
“Still, your teacher passes the test. As such, he is now a member of the guild, not that I expect much from him.”
“We’ll show you.”
“Show me what?”
“Curry is the pinnacle of cuisine! We’ll show you next time!”
“Interesting. However, I am a busy man. ‘Next time’ might be a long way away.”
“Urgh…”
Look, I already passed. Isn’t that enough?
No!
Fran refused my attempt to placate her.
The guy said he was busy.
Curry is the best food there is! I’m not backing down!
She certainly didn’t sound like she was going to concede.
“When’s the next time we can meet?”
“Let’s see… If you must have me sample your curry, you could participate in this event.”
“…?”
Meckam gave Fran a flyer for a cooking contest sponsored by the Bulbolan Chefs’ Guild. The preliminaries would be conducted through a simple food presentation, the semi-finals through a food stall contest, and the finals were a gourmet cook-off.
“We are in the preliminary stage of the contest. Your curry is delicious and unique enough to make it to the semi-finals. If you win, I will taste your curry once more. I am one of the judges, you see.”
“You’re on!”
F-Fran?! You can’t just make a decision on the spot like that!
I was going to have to make more curry. Not to mention the food stall contest. I couldn’t imagine Fran manning the booth. I would certainly have to show up if we made it to the finals. Would Fran cook in my stead? I didn’t think we could trick the old man either way.
She would regret committing to this on a whim. Still, Fran was adamant.
We are participating.
We’re going up against professional chefs. We might not even make it to the finals.
Don’t worry, she said. I know you’ll win.
I’m glad that you think so highly of me, but still.
My chances of making it to the finals were low. We would be competing against seasoned chefs who had been cooking for decades.
This is one battle we can’t afford to lose. We can’t let him look down on curry like that.
Yeah, but…
Honestly, I didn’t think we could win.
It’s okay, Teacher. I believe in you.
Well, I don’t. My Cooking skill aside, I’m practically a beginner.
You don’t trust my taste?
Of course I do, but…
Fran loved to eat, and she hated empty flattery. Her Cooking skill was at Level 10, too. If she said my food was good, then it had to be good. I just didn’t think it was the pinnacle of cooking.
Then believe in me who believes in you.
Fran…!
“Believe in me who believes in you,” ranked third on my Top Ten List of Cool Lines. I’d always wanted to say it, and for Fran to fit it in so casually! This girl really was special.
Damn it. When you put it that way, I am forced to comply…!
Then can we join?
Oh…sure.
In the end, I agreed.
Yeah. Let’s do this. And let’s win while we’re at it.
Yeah!
It was rare for Fran to be so set on something. I wanted to indulge her for once.
“What’s wrong? Are you running scared?”
“Hmph. I was just getting into it. Our curry’s going to win this contest.”
I guess that settled our entry.
“Then you will be taking part?”
“Hm!”
“Have a look through these registration papers and sign on the dotted line.” Meckam called one of the administrators to provide an explanation.
There were over one thousand participants in the preliminaries. That number would be culled to a mere twenty by the time the semi-finals rolled around. I almost felt bad for being allowed in so easily.
The semi-finals involved manning a three-day food stall. Contestants opened their stalls, and the winner was decided by how much profit they made. We would receive 100,000G to cover the costs, which drove home how big this contest was. We were provided with a set of ingredients and were also allowed to use our own as long as we informed the Chefs’ Guild beforehand. Rare ingredients were a staple in this phase, and 100,000G would not be enough to cover the costs.
However, the price of your ingredients was deducted from your total profit, which meant going all-out in this stage might cost you the win. We were going for final profit here, not revenue.
The top four contestants would go on to the final, where they would present their best dish on a silver platter. The winner got 100,000G. The prize money wasn’t worth much, but the honor of winning was more than worth the effort. It virtually guaranteed that a chef’s restaurant would be world famous. Some of the winners even went on to cook for the royal family.
“The semi-finals will take place in three days. The finals are on the seventh of April.”
The Festival of the Moons was tomorrow, March 31st, and would go on for an entire week. That meant the finals would be held on the last day.
“Is that enough time for you to prepare?”
Fran tilted her head. She couldn’t know the answer, after all.
Teacher?
We’d decided to participate. Making it work was my job.
Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.
“Hm. We’re good.”
“Very well. Here is your funding. Don’t run away with it, now.”
Meckam gave us a pouch full of money. He did it so casually that it made me wonder whether he was even worried about us disappearing. Then again, the old man had proven himself to be an excellent judge of character, and I supposed that he trusted his own judgment.
“Of course. You better hold on to your socks.”
“Hmph. I look forward to tasting your dish again.”
“Hm!”
And just like that, we’d somehow entered a cooking contest.
The Chefs’ Guild offered the use of their facilities, but I wasn’t going to cook in public where everyone could see. We were going to have to cook somewhere hidden. I needed to think of what kind of curry I was going to make, too. And then there was the problem of ingredients and spices. We still had to check-in at the Adventurers’ Guild, and we couldn’t forget the Festival of the Moons.
I might have gotten a little too ahead of myself. I wondered if we could make it in time…
Thirty minutes had passed since we entered the cooking contest.
The Chefs’ Guild people told us it should be just ahead…
Now we were looking for the Adventurers’ Guild. I had wanted to look around town a bit more, but we were short on time. We needed to finish our errands so we could get to contest prep.
We’ll sell our materials, buy some spices, and get cooking where no one can see.
“Hm.”
We walked until we happened upon a large building. The receptionist at the Chefs’ Guild told us that we couldn’t miss it, and now I knew why.
“Is that the guild?”
Looks like it… It’s huge!
“Big.”
“Woof.”
The guild in Alessa was pretty big, but the one in Bulbola was on another level. It looked more like a noble’s mansion. The guild was surrounded by other trade houses, but none of them compared to the majesty of the guildhouse.
“Is that a castle?”
Sure looks like one.
The sign above the gigantic door confirmed that we were at the right place. However, upon entering, the level of luxury dropped significantly. Still fancy but not overwhelming.
The guildhouse was actually kind of cruddy compared to its exterior. Definitely not as extravagant as the Chefs’ Guild. Then again, adventurers were a rowdy bunch. Some of them were even outlaws and wouldn’t think twice about stealing or breaking the furniture.
That said, the layout was still impeccable. There were nine counters in total and about fifty adventurers loitering in the lobby. I thought there might be something major going on, but this seemed like just another day in Bulbola’s Adventurers’ Guild.
The receptionists were equally impressive. A beautiful lady graced each counter. One such lady, stationed near the entrance, was the first to address Fran.
“Welcome. Is this your first time at the guild?”
This was the general reception, I assumed.
“Hm.”
“Would you like a brief explanation of the guild at Bulbola?”
“Please.”
“Very well. This is the general reception counter. Please report here if you wish to use the guildhouse facilities.”
The guildhouse had a magical device that could broadcast announcements inside its walls. The three counters next to it were quest counters, and the three further inside were for trade. There were even counters specifically for clients and consultation.
The upper floors contained a library and a workshop for craftsmen. On top of that, there were lodging facilities and a training area for beginners. The guildhouses we’d been to before hadn’t had emergency lodging, so that was new. It was appropriately cramped and uncomfortable, and usually reserved for adventurers who’d failed their latest mission or were in dire straits financially.
“I see. So that’s why this place is so big.”
“How may we be of service to you today?”
“Hm. I’d like to sell some materials.”
“Do you have your Adventurer’s Card with you?” The receptionist asked for it without batting an eye. She was just as well trained as the Chefs’ Guild receptionist before her. Such was the level of service these large associations provided.
“Here.”
“Let me just run this through the system.”
But how would she react now? Could she remain calm and professional after seeing Fran was a D-Rank adv—
“Fran. D-Rank Adventurer. Please make your way to Counter Six.”
“Hm.”
Now that was professionalism! The receptionist showed Fran where to go without so much as a change in expression. I think this was the first time we’d gotten such a reception. Usually, the receptionist would go, “Wait, D-Rank?” followed by, “This little girl?”
The girl at the trading counter was the same. She just took a look at Fran’s card and went about her job. They were a little too calm, in fact. I’d gotten so accustomed to surprising the locals that I felt something was missing.
Still, the adventurers made up for what the receptionists lacked. Murmurs started spreading as soon as Fran took out the gigantic Fleet Breaker Tuna.
“What the hell?! Is that a Fleet Breaker?!”
“S-she probably found that lying around somewhere.”
“R-right? There’s no way that little girl could’ve hunted that thing.”
They couldn’t believe their eyes. Not that I blamed them.
The monster materials we gathered during our voyage totaled about 200,000G. Most of them were cheap, but the horn of the Fleet Breaker Tuna proved to be of great value—mainly because it could be used to craft spears and other such weapons. We were asked to sell the meat and bones of the Fleet Breaker, but we declined. Fran had developed a taste for the meat, and I wanted the bones to make broth. Along with the reward money from our escort gig, we got 500,000G to add to our cooking contest war chest.
A man approached us as Fran was collecting her money. He was an adventurer by the looks of it: short black hair and a tough look on his face. His brown garments emphasized maneuverability over protection, and he wore a heavy cloak made from some kind of monster hide. His crimson bandana looked like it was made of the same stuff. He was tall and slender but not malnourished. On the contrary, he was lean and ripped, without unnecessary weight.
I thought he was next in line for the trading counter, but the man’s eyes were set on Fran. I gave him the usual welcome Identify.
Name: Colbert
Race: Human
Class: Steel Fist
Level: 41/99
HP: 228; Magic: 152; Strength: 249; Agility: 203
Skills: Disassemble 4; Martial Arts 6; Martial Arts Mastery 6; Danger Sense 3; Advanced Punch Mastery 2; Punch Arts 9; Punch Mastery 10; Breath Control 4; Toughness 6; Blink 7; Swim 4; Ocean Resistance 2; Throw 4; Everyday Magic 3; Sleep Resistance 3; Paralysis Resistance 4; Cooking 3; Hawkeye; Beast Killer; Spirit Manipulation
Class Skill: Steel Fist
Titles: Bear Killer; Tiger Killer
Equipment: Water Dragon Leather Gloves; Aged Water Tiger Gi; Aged Water Tiger Shoes; Red Maw Bear Bandanna; Red Maw Bear Cloak; Bracelet of Pain Resistance; Bracelet of Physical Resistance
He was strong. Definitely stronger than a C-Rank. He was comparable to Jean, the Necromancer, and stronger than Alessa’s Ogre instructor.
I thought he was unarmed but soon realized he was a martial artist who specialized in unarmed combat. Breath Control was also quite interesting. With it, he could focus his energy into one particular area of his body and strengthen it. Properly utilized, it could be used to block sharp objects. The skill was versatile and could be used for both offense and defense.
His Class Skill, Steel Fist, also attracted my attention. It was certainly appropriate for a martial artist. His skill tree suggested that he beat up monsters with his bare hands. I really wanted to see that for myself. If we were lucky, he might fling a monster into the sky with a single blow, like in my manga back home.
“Hello there, little lady. Did you hunt that thing down yourself?”
His choice of words made it seem like he was making fun of Fran, but his expression held no sign of contempt. He really wanted to know.
“Hm. I fished it.”
“Fished it, you say?”
“Yeah. On a boat.”
“That’s amazing! Folks usually use magic to hunt these suckers down.”
He took Fran at her word. And here I thought we’d have to spend a few more minutes explaining.
“You believe me?”
“What? Of course I do. I have eyes, you know. I can tell how strong you are from the way you carry yourself.”
He’d figured out her strength and had no reason to doubt her. I diverted my attention to the other adventurers, those whose eyes were not as keen as Colbert’s.
“Fleet Breaker Tuna just happen to be one of my favorites. They’re so hard to come by, though. Say, you wouldn’t mind selling me some of its meat, would you? I’m sure it still has a lot of flesh left if you fished it by hand.”
He wanted a share. The monster fish was over ten meters long. There would be more than enough left even if we sold some, but Fran shook her head.
“Has someone else taken claim of it?” he asked.
He couldn’t imagine anyone eating an entire Fleet Breaker.
“Kind of? I’m eating it.”
Unfortunately, Fran was not your average anyone. Besides, we could keep the Fleet Breaker fresh indefinitely in our Pocket Dimension. Fran had taken a liking to sushi, and I found it hard to imagine that she’d be willing to part with her prize.
“Seriously? This entire thing?”
“Hm.”
“I see… Aaah, that’s a shame…”
His shoulders slumped in disappointment. He must’ve really wanted some.
I felt sorry for him but also recognized that this was a chance to earn a favor from a powerful martial artist. Perhaps we should give him a piece. Before I could voice my suggestion, Fran took something out of her pocket and gave it to him.
“Here. It’s a tuna sushi.”
She presented the sushi we’d made on the ship. It was ready to eat: brushed with shoyu on a small wooden plate.
I thought you liked sushi. Are you sure?
Can’t be helped. I have to start marketing.
Marketing? I wondered, as Fran continued the conversation.
“Did you make this yourself?”
“My teacher made it.”
That wasn’t exactly true. I’d borrowed Fran’s body to prepare the sushi, so it was more Fran’s creation than mine.
The man looked at the dish with great curiosity. “Sushi, you say? Raw fish on top of rice? I’ve never seen this before.”
“Hm.”
Colbert took the sushi carefully from the plate. He sniffed it and immediately knew the fish was still good. Taking advantage of this spark of courage, he scooped the entire thing into his mouth. Fran joined him by stuffing her cheeks with sushi; she couldn’t help herself any longer. In fact, she ate three pieces all at once.
The man quietly chewed his food, making sure to savor the flavor. Suddenly, his expression shifted to shock. I guess he didn’t like it, after all.
“This is delicious! Exquisite! How can such flavor come from rice and a piece of raw fish? The knife handling must’ve been brilliant! You used an impeccably sharp blade to cut the Fleet Breaker, preserving its body heat and the integrity of its muscle fibers. And this is no ordinary rice. You’ve added vinegar to help it hold its shape and give it a subtle tang. Tuna and rice melt in your mouth in perfect harmony… This is excellent cooking! Sushi, you say? Despite its outward simplicity, this dish requires perfect preparation! Amazing!”
Wow, he got real talkative all at once. He did have the Cooking skill, so I thought he was a hobbyist, but the way he talked reminded me of Meckam… Was the average Bulbolan like this? I wasn’t sure whether to be worried or impressed.
“And your teacher made this, young lady?”
“Hm.”
“A supreme chef… Where, might I ask, is his establishment?”
The guy called me supreme and was now being uncomfortably polite.
“Nowhere.”
“Then perhaps he is employed in a respectable eatery?”
“Nope.”
“Then how am I supposed to feast upon more of your master’s delicacies?!”
The man, now nearly frenzied, drew closer to Fran. To an onlooker, his questioning would have seemed more like an interrogation. He really wanted to know where he could get more sushi.
“We’ll be running a food stall in the contest.”
“So you got through the preliminaries! I suppose that was a given with such expert hands. I’ll see you then! I’ll come visit every day! What will you serve for the contest?”
“Curry.”
“Never heard of it. Is it another of your teacher’s original creations?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Aah, I can’t wait to see what it tastes like!”
That was what Fran wanted. Colbert was a high-rank adventurer, and more people would come if he recommended us. Fran was quite shrewd.
“The name’s Colbert. B-Rank Adventurer. They call me Steelclaw Colbert.”
“Steelclaw?”
“It’s my nickname. I’m not as famous as Amanda the Hariti, Hundred Blade Forlund, or Slaughterhouse Jean du Vix, but I hope to be famous throughout the continent one day.”
Nicknames, huh? Then again, I guess some people had taken to calling Fran the Swordceress.
Amanda the Hariti made sense, considering how protective she was of the children, but Slaughterhouse Jean? That was disturbing. I couldn’t imagine our obnoxious necromancer inventing such a name for himself. I guess he wasn’t just some weirdo no one knew of, after all.
“I’m Fran. D-Rank Adventurer.”
“D-Rank, huh? I can see quite the future in store for you. Hell, you’ve already changed my life with your master’s sushi. Thanks again, by the way.”
This guy sure loved to exaggerate. Then again, I sensed no ill will.
“You’ve got quite the tongue to understand the tastiness of sushi with one bite.”
“Why thank you. Considering your master’s skills, you must be quite the chef yourself, Fran.”
They’d somehow managed to hit it off. Fran and Colbert were smiling like two boys at the end of a fistfight. They’d attracted an even bigger crowd by the time they shook hands.
I felt someone else coming our way. A short and stout man with a fluffy white beard approached us. He was probably the same height as Fran, his muscles looked like boulders, and he was sporting a respectable beer gut. A dwarf, in short. Quite strong, too. There was no wasted effort when he moved. How had he approached us so quietly despite his bulk?
Judging by the reaction of the other adventurers, he must be quite well known.
“I could hear you a mile away, Colbert. Why all the excitement?”
“Oh, Guildmaster.”
This dwarf was the GM of Bulbola.
“The Guildmaster is an A-Rank adventurer. They call him Dragon Hammer Gammod. Bulbola’s finest.”
A quick Identify confirmed his strength. He was definitely stronger than Colbert. He had Advanced Hammer Mastery and Land Magic in his skill list, making him ideal in both the front and back lines of a battle. He was even stronger than us, really. The Guildmaster title wasn’t for show.
“You are quite well trained for your age, young lady…but I’ve never seen you around. The name’s Gammod. I run the guild here.”
I guess the Guildmaster knew all the regulars. Or maybe Fran just stood out to the point that he wouldn’t forget her face.
“Hm. I’m Fran. D-Rank.”
“Oh? I think I have heard of you. From the Black Cat who started her career in Alessa. Swordceress, was it? You really do have quite a fine sword, now that I’m looking at it.”
Gammod immediately went for Fran’s jugular. Much as I hated to toot my own horn, Fran did love me very much. She looked happy when he complimented me, although only Jet and I could tell.
“Hm. I have the best sword.”
“Indeed you do! Will you be attending the Festival of the Moons?”
“Yeah. I’ll be joining in with the cooking contest, too.”
“Really?”
“My teacher’s participating,” Fran replied.
Colbert offered Gammod a piece of sushi. “Try it, GM.”
“And what is it, exactly?”
“It’s a dish Fran’s master dreamed up. Just eat it, and you’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“A-all right.” Gammod was a little wary as he put the sushi into his mouth. But his eyes widened, and he fell into silence. The guildmaster held his breath for several seconds.
“What is this?! It’s delicious! It’s refreshing while still bringing the flavor of the fish to the fore! By the gods, this would go great with a drink!”
It seemed all Bulbolans were passionate about food.
“You might actually win the contest with this! I’ll be sure to pay you a visit!”
“Hm. Our store’s called the Black Tail.”
“Got it. I can’t wait to see what you serve up!”
The other adventurers broke out into whispers at the Guildmaster’s approval. “Black Tail? I think I’ll check it out.”
The GM couldn’t have shown up at a better time.
Soon, Gammod’s secretary arrived to drag him away despite his complaints. Nonetheless, we appreciated the free PR.
“Anyway, call me if you need any help. I may not look like much, but there are some strings that I can pull. I don’t mind getting down and dirty. In fact, I’d be honored to help this teacher of yours.”
Looks like I’ve got myself a fan.
We would probably take him up on his offer. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, anyway.
Interestingly, each high-rank adventurer we’d met so far was different. I wondered if any of them could teach Fran an ounce of common sense. Then again, maybe I just hadn’t gotten used to the common sense of this world yet.
We talked as we walked away from the Adventurers’ Guild. We might be able to secure a prep kitchen and the necessary ingredients, but we needed to decide what to sell at our stall. We discussed our options as we walked towards the market. A hypothetical onlooker would see a girl mumbling to herself or just talking to her pet dog. Still, I doubted anyone could hear Fran over the bustle of the city.
I think we should discuss what to sell at our food stall.
“Curry.”
“Woof!”
Fran and Jet both loved curry, after all.
All right, but what should we put in it? Also, how spicy should it be? We’re going to have to order the plates and cutlery, too.
Being the culinary capital of the world, Bulbola was teeming with general stores. The people in this world could mass produce paper plates and wooden spoons by using alchemy, keeping their costs low.
We’ll need some meat, too.
We didn’t have much raw meat left, having used up most of it. We’d need more from the market.
And then there’s the vegetables. We definitely need potatoes, carrots, and scallions. Then apples and honey for added flavor. Chocolate, too… Okay, now I’m worried whether we’ll have enough spices to make this thing.
There were a lot of ingredients from my world that you just couldn’t get here. We’d have to survey the market and see what we had to work with. I’d have to think about the subtle flavoring and consistency of the curry, too. Fran always liked her vegetables on the mushier side, and Jet had developed a liking for spice.
Let’s just go to the market. Be on the lookout for pig monster meat and vegetables.
“Okay.”
“Woof!”
An hour passed before we reached the port-side market. It was Granzell’s largest—or second largest—market, boasting a cornucopia of products from every corner of the world. It was also fiercely competitive.
Still, we couldn’t find the ingredients we needed. We managed to get the required vegetables and seasonings, but the meat and spices that would form the heart of our curry were still missing.
The butchers here don’t sell enough monster meat.
In fact, monster materials were hard to come by in general. When we finally found the monster pork we were looking for, there wasn’t enough to go around. And while not obscenely expensive, it was too pricey to waste in a big stewing pot.
Maybe we could just use regular pork. Curry was a unique cuisine in this world. Perhaps we could win by sheer novelty.
At least we were fine for vegetables. A lot of grocers sold what we needed, and they had plenty in stock for a food contest. We secured apples, honey, chocolate, and even coffee for depth of flavor.
“Munch, munch.”
“Arf, scarf.”
You two sure look like you’re enjoying yourselves.
Fran ate everything we came across as I fretted over the competition. She ate quite a lot on our way to the Chefs’ Guild too, but showed no sign of slowing down.
“This is market research. I need to know what’s trending right now.”
“Woof.”
If you say so.
At least I could eavesdrop more easily since Fran stopped by every food stall we came across.
Market research, huh? You know, I think it’s time we gathered intel on our rivals.
“Intel?”
Yeah. We should start by visiting the restaurants of previous winners and runner-ups.
Bulbola was crawling with master chefs. Surely we could sample some of their cooking.
Fran nodded sternly at my suggestion. “All right. I’ll sniff out every last one of those master chefs!”
That’s nice, Fran, but you’re drooling.
“Woof, woof!” Jet barked and wagged his tail happily, but it might be too soon for celebration. We didn’t know if he’d even be allowed in. I hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed.
We got the information we needed by simply asking around. I guess it helped that the people manning the food stalls had a soft spot for adorable catgirls. They answered all of Fran’s questions eagerly.
Our first stop was a restaurant close to the marketplace.
“Here?”
Looks like it. It says Dragonhead right on the sign.
The restaurant was right next to the market. Dragonhead had won last year’s contest, but it didn’t look too high class. The food was affordable, too.
Is this really the place?
“Is it open?” Fran peeked in through the door. It was a relaxed-looking establishment, and there were still some empty seats.
“Welcome. Table for one?”
“Hm. Plus one dog.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We don’t allow pets here,” the waitress explained.
Well, I kind of figured that would be the case.
“But, Jet…”
“Arf…”
Give it up, buddy. Just go into the shadows for a while.
Jet whined. The nerve of this wolf, trying to pull off puppy eyes! I’d have to make it up to him later.
“For one, then.”
“D-did your dog just go into your shadow…?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“R-right. Of course he didn’t. Dogs can’t hide in shadows. It doesn’t make sense. I must be tired.”
Sorry, lady. We promise to order lots to make it up to you.
Fran flipped through the menu as soon as she sat down. There were too many dishes to choose from, so we had to play our trump card.
“What do you recommend?”
That should cover it.
“Well, definitely our specialty item, Dragon Bone Soup.”
“Dragon Bone? You make broth out of dragon bones?”
“Yes. It’s our best seller.”
Dragon bone. I couldn’t imagine what it tasted like. What I did know was that dragon meat was as delicious as it was expensive. We’d found a store that carried low-grade dragon meat, and it was easily a hundred times more expensive than monster pork. Dragon bone must be a highly-valued ingredient, as well.
“One of those, then. Also one of these, and this, and this one, and this one right here.”
“A-are you sure? Our servings are quite generous.”
Fran only nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Each portion has enough to feed one person.”
“No problem.”
“I-I see… I’ll prepare for some of the dishes for takeaway.”
“Hm?”
“Let me just repeat your order: one Dragon Bone Soup, one Storm Falcon Steak, one Swamp Pork Skewer, one Ygg Potato Salad, and a Bulbolan Crab Pilaf.”
“Hm.”
This was a regular breakfast by Fran’s standards. The waitress would be wasting time preparing some of the dishes for takeaway, and for that I apologized.
The soup came first after a ten minute wait. It was a clear, yellow broth with nothing in it. At a glance, it looked like consommé. I saved half of it to examine later before Fran gulped it all down.
“Can I eat now?”
Go for it.
“Let’s dig in.”
Fran slurped the Dragon Bone Soup.
How is it?
“It’s…good,” Fran said with mild vexation.
I had no idea why she would be upset by good food.
“It might be better than your consommé.”
I see.
That was a surprise. Saying that something was better than my cooking was the highest praise that you could get. And for only 20G a bowl. It was ridiculous.
My consommé was specially-made from monster bones and meat—both of which fetched high prices, judging by our stroll through the market. If we were to use those ingredients, I’d have to price my consommé at 50G. Fran said Dragon Bone Soup was better than that, and it cost only 20G. It was crazy.
It was also cheaper than the other monster dishes, which averaged at 60G a portion. The soup bordered on being dirt cheap.
I might have underestimated our competition. I would have to work hard if we were to stand a chance.
We might end up placing last if we don’t get serious.
Regular pork was no longer an option. We had to somehow get our hands on monster pork. We’d have to select our ingredients carefully too, and settle for nothing but the finest. We couldn’t spend recklessly since we still had the profits to worry about, but we couldn’t afford to be shy in our usage of spices, either.
And then there was the matter of presentation. We’d have to figure out a suitable way to sell our food. If we simply handed out plates of curry and rice, we wouldn’t do well.
No helping it… We’ll have to go there.
I was more than ready to use every lead we had. We left the Dragonhead and made our way to a certain building.
He said call him if we needed anything…but I didn’t think we’d take him up on that right away.
The Lucille Trade Association—the merchant association Rengill was affiliated with. To think we had only parted ways a few hours ago and were now standing in front of their headquarters.
The biggest trade association in Bulbola had an appropriately massive building—at least twice as large as its rivals. It was opulent to the point that I felt out of place. Faced with all this grandeur, Fran brazenly decided to enter the building anyway.
The receptionists were all busy so, once inside, we talked to one of the apprentices near the door. He looked annoyed at being interrupted by a little girl but went to contact the captain immediately once she showed him Rengill’s coin.
Captain Rengill was higher up in the ranks than I’d expected.
We sat on one of the lobby’s sofas and waited.
Teacher…give me another skewer.
You still want to eat? Will you be fine for dinner?
Of course.
All right.
Nobles mixed with merchants in the lobby. And in the midst of them all, a small adventurer—a little girl, really—quietly sat on a couch and munched away at her skewers. Fran stood out like a sore thumb. I could say that people stared at her, but it felt like they were observing her with curiosity rather than contempt.
Not that anyone attempted to pick a fight. I guessed the people here were too civilized for that. Then again, maybe they were just afraid of Jet, sitting right next to her. And we’d had Colbert to thank for the lack of conflict at the Adventurers’ Guild earlier.
Fran chewed on her skewers until Rengill eventually arrived.
“Welcome. I’m glad to see you so soon.” Rengill smiled and offered his hand.
“Hm.”
“Woof!”
“Ha ha ha, good to see you too, Jet.”
It seemed the captain was famous here. The surrounding traders balked when they saw him extend his hand in gratitude.
Rengill guided us to his office. The plain-looking room was cozy and tastefully decorated, just like Rengill himself. He asked Fran to have a seat before getting down to business.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Hm. I’m going to take part in this.”
“Oh my, the cooking contest? So you’ve passed the preliminaries?” Rengill barely glanced at the flyer. The contest was definitely famous here.
“Not me. Teacher.”
“Teacher? Who are you talking about? Was he on the ship with you?”
“Hm. Teacher’s elusive like that.”
“Aah, then I suppose you’ve regrouped with him here.”
That was the story we’d come up with. I was a wandering teacher who took Fran for an apprentice and set her loose on the world. It reflected poorly on my part, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
“Teacher needs ingredients for the contest.”
“Which is why you’ve come here. So, what will you compete with? The competition is tight every year.”
“Curry.”
“Curry? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Teacher’s original recipe. Here.” She took a plate of curry out of Pocket Dimension and set it on the table.
“Aah, so this is called curry.”
We’d passed it around back on the ship. Rengill may not have known its name, but he couldn’t forget the aroma. He took a deep whiff as he looked at the plate in front of him.
“If you’ll allow me.”
After his first bite, Rengill scooped one spoonful after another into his mouth, cleaning his plate.
“As delicious as it is rare and fragrant,” he declared, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I thought this would sell well when I first had it. Why, even the recipe would fetch a high price!”
The merchant had passed his judgment, declaring curry as a product worth selling.
“Will you be competing in the food stall phase with this?”
Fran nodded. “Hm.”
The captain looked lost in thought. “I see…”
“Will there be a problem?”
“Arf?”
“Well, as delicious as curry is, it will be difficult to sell at a food stall.”
“Why? You just said it’s good.”
“It’ll take too long to prepare, you see.”
The previous finalists went for either skewers or soups, which could be prepared as soon as the customer placed the order. And more sales meant more profit.
Taking that into consideration, curry and rice was difficult to prepare. You needed to scoop the rice, pour the curry on top, and then give the customer their plate. It would take even longer if the customer wanted it to go.
I see. When he puts it that way, curry rice would place us at a disadvantage.
Should we forego the rice and sell it as a kind of soup? Then again, I didn’t think we could beat Dragon Bone Soup that way.
Fran groaned. “How do we sell a lot of curry with no hassle…?”
“That’s the million G question. It takes more than a tasty dish to win the food stall phase.”
So much for curry rice, then. However, Fran seemed to be struck with inspiration.
“Oh! I have an idea! What if it went the other way around?”
“Other way around?”
“Yeah. Put the curry inside the rice. Like curry rice balls.”
“Woof!”
The rice ball was another of Fran’s favorites, since it was easy to eat and could be flavored with a variety of fillings. It was a good idea, and Jet drooled in silent agreement.
Curry rice balls were good, but the curry would seep through the rice, given enough time. For them to be any good, we’d have to pack the balls tight.
What if we deep fried them? Fran suggested.
Deep-fried curry rice balls?
The name didn’t quite roll off the tongue, although it sounded delicious. But Fran’s suggestion gave me an idea.
Fran, I just thought of something.
Deep-fried rice balls?
No, not that.
Our dish of choice should be something we could make in bulk for cheap. It would be portable and just as delicious at room temperature.
We’re making curry bread!
Curry bread!
Woof, woof!
Fran and Jet’s eyes sparkled. The mere mention of curry was enough encouragement for them. Fran got even more excited when I told her we could make a variety of flavors.
“Curry bread. That’ll work.”
“Curry bread?” said Captain Rengill, noticing Fran’s mutterings. His merchant eyes gleamed with curiosity. “What’s that?”
“They’re curry-filled doughnuts.”
He nodded, able to imagine what they would taste like. “I see. Yes, that could work, actually. The aroma would attract nearby customers, and they could buy several at a time.”
“We can make different flavors, too.”
“Really?! So you won’t be limited to this particular curry?”
“Hm.”
“That sounds wonderful!”
All right. Curry bread was going to be our main product! Still, it wasn’t without its problems.
“We’ll need spices and flour. Can you get them for us?”
“Right… Will bread flour suffice?”
Teacher?
Yeah, that’ll be fine.
“Yes.”
“In that case!” There was tons of flour in storage, so that wasn’t a problem. “I’ll get your flour ready.”
“Please.”
“But the spices…” Rengill hesitated.
“No good?”
“It should be fine. Do you know which ones you need?”
“Hm.”
Fran told Rengill the spices we required.
“Good. However, there has been a spike in prices lately, so it’s going to cost you.”
It was the aftereffects of the Seedrun incident, he explained. The previous king imposed ridiculous taxes on most goods, which contributed to the steep increase in prices. Spices were among them. Fran had overthrown the Seedrunian tyrant, but it would take the current government time to get rid of all the unnecessary taxes. Rengill thought it might take a month for prices to restabilize.
“I don’t want to take advantage of the person who saved my life, but I am still a merchant. Making a profit for the Lucille Trade Association remains my chief responsibility.”
Fair enough. I respected Rengill all the more for that.
“I do have a suggestion, however.”
“What is it?”
“Would you be willing to sell the recipe for curry rice to the trade association?”
Sell my recipe? Could he make money with it? According to Rengill, it wasn’t such a rare occurrence. The recipes developed by the winners of the cooking contest always fetched a high price.
“We could pay you in cash or sell you spices at their base rate. Which would you prefer?”
I had no intention of opening up my own curry shop, so either option worked for me. Still, I doubted the recipe would be so highly valued. If Rengill was wrong, his position would be on the line, but the merchant captain sounded confident.
“This recipe will surely cover the principal cost. That much I know for certain.”
I was flattered but also felt slightly guilty. I was just reproducing a common Earth recipe, after all.
In the end, I was in this for Fran, so we accepted his proposal.
“Hm. Okay, that works.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to consult your teacher? This is quite an important decision…”
“Teacher isn’t one to sweat the details. He also let me have full control over our participation in the tournament.”
“If you say so… I’ll prepare the documents for the spices and flour.”
“Thanks.”
Rengill handed us papers with a detailed list of the foodstuffs and their respective amounts.
“We won’t be able to give you the ingredients today, since we still need to prepare them, of course. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you. We’ll get them ready as soon as we can.”
Rengill rang the bell on his desk to summon a young beastman. One of the apprentice merchants, I guessed. Rengill gave him the signed documents and told him to prepare the goods.
“Are there other ingredients you need? We can get them ready for you while we’re at it.”
“Vegetables, I guess.”
“Such as?”
“Potatoes, onions, carrots. Oh, and some apples.”
“No problem. We’ll have them ready shortly. We always have plenty of those in stock, although we can’t provide any that are fresh from the harvest, of course.”
That couldn’t be helped. I was thankful to be provided with all of these ingredients. We asked Rengill to source our ingredients from lands which were famous for them.
“We’ll need some meat, too.”
“We have beef, pork, chicken, lizard, and frog, just to name a few.”
“Can you get your hands on some monster meat?”
We asked, expecting a flat no, which was kind of what we got. Monster meat was difficult to get a hold of. If nothing else, the Adventurers’ Guild had dibs on most of it. They would then sell it directly to the Chefs’ Guild and the marketplace, which meant the trade association didn’t see much of it.
I figured that’d be the case. There wasn’t much monster meat in the marketplace either, meaning the Adventurers’ Guild must have been controlling the supply. But what now? If we were going to sell curry, monster meat was instrumental.
“That isn’t to say there is no way of getting your hands on some,” Rengill said, looking oddly tense.
Why? Was he going to recommend some kind of black market? I’d much rather avoid illegal means. Fortunately, my suspicions were soon debunked.
“You could just hunt it yourself.”
“We could?”
“Yes, and I know just the place.”
Rengill told us of a Haunt just south of Bulbola. It was a B-level Haunt called Crystal Cage. This place was the source of most of the monster meat sold in Bulbola. The Haunt was dangerous, crawling with D-Threat monsters, but we could hunt there, and it had the convenience of being near the city.
Sorry I ever doubted you, Captain. I guess you were just nervous about recommending something so dangerous.
Hunting our own monster meat was a great idea, though. What else could an adventurer do without materials? Hunt them on her own. We could make it in time for the cooking contest too, now that we knew where to look.
“It’s quite dangerous, but I’m sure you’ll be able to manage, Fran. Especially when you have Jet with you.”
“Yeah. We’ll be fine.”
“Woof!”
“And do contact us if you have any monster meat left over.”
Rengill’s merchant hat was on tight. We’d have to hunt a little bit more than we need now—it was the only way to thank him for the information. After all, we might need his help in the future.
Ingredients weren’t the only thing we needed.
“We’re also looking for a place to cook.”
We asked him for somewhere with a lot of space but out of the public eye. Not expecting much, I was pleased to see he had a lead. He called on one of his assistants for verification, but it seemed they had a building that fit.
“You’re in luck. Our real estate division tells me that we are in possession of a closed restaurant. It comes with a spacious kitchen, and people are not allowed to enter.”
The place was right next to the marketplace and shopping district too, which would come in handy during the competition. Since the restaurant was no longer in business, we could use it however we wanted.
“Sounds good. We’ll take it.”
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements for the lease. We’ll deliver your spices and flour there while we’re at it. You’ll get the keys together with the delivery.”
“Hm.”
Things were beginning to come together. Rengill must’ve been higher up the corporate ladder than we thought, since he wasn’t worried about any of the arrangements he was making. He offered to throw in paper bags for us to sell our curry bread in too, which was very considerate—we hadn’t even thought of that.
With everything in place, we left the Lucille Trade Association. The sun was setting, and the streets were lit with the orange glow of dusk. We walked along in the lengthening shadows and made our way to the Count’s mansion.
It’ll take a day for us to get to the Haunt on horseback.
A day trip was very much within the realm of possibility.
We’ll have to leave first thing in the morning. It’s going to be tight, but I’m counting on you two.
“We’ll do our best in the name of curry bread.”
“Woof, woof!”
Their appetites remained their primary motivation. I’d have to make a test batch for them when we got to the mansion.
We’ll have to take care of some errands before that.
***
“How goes the experiment in the slums?”
“Things are progressing smoothly.”
“I hear you’ve adjusted its strength and administered it to about a hundred people.”
“It has produced the effects that we’re looking for.”
“Splendid.”
“We’ve also learned that there is a difference in activation time with the diluted substance.”
“That doesn’t sound very good.”
“Yes. Adjustments during the real run might prove difficult.”
“Can’t you just make it as strong as it is now?”
“Then the substance would activate immediately. We would lose the element of stealth.”
“It must be difficult to adjust its strength so it kicks in at just the right time.”
“Yes. People might suspect him if we fail. It would only be a matter of time until he led them to us.”
“It is almost time for the real thing.”
“I’m thinking of increasing the number of subjects. If the slum dwellers aren’t enough, we’ll place an order with the black-market slavers. If worst comes to worst, we’ll have to increase the strength when we mix it in.”
“That’ll do. It’ll be the end for him if it works, anyway. It comes down to how quickly we can cut him off.”
“I suppose. Still, we need a large number of people to ingest it to complete our goal. Further adjustments are our first order of business.”
“I’ll leave that to you. We must gain that man’s favor at all costs.”
“He is our precious investor, after all.”
“Hah. Even if it’s only on the face of it.”
“It’s a good thing this order came when it did.”
“Indeed. We shall take advantage of the cooking contest as best we can.”
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