by Yuu Tanaka
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 f
ood.
“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 wi
th 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.
