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Chapter 97: Spanish Omelet

x Chapter 97: Spanish Omelet

Chapter 97:
Spanish Omelet

DEEP IN THE WOODS, a three-day walk from town, Carlos passed through the door of the small cottage where his elder sister was staying. He was about a head taller than other demi-humans with wolf blood, and he was careful not to bump his large bag against anything as he entered.

“I’m glad you’re here, Carlos! I’ve been waiting.”

Apparently, the young woman hadbeen waiting, since she called out to Carlos as soon as he entered the room. She was also a demi-human and was likewise about a head taller than average. Next to Carlos, though, she really didn’t seem anything but petite. Her ears perked up and her tail wagged excitedly—like a puppy’s—as she greeted her little brother, a respected warrior.

Seeing his elder sister’s affable smile for the first time in three months, Carlos couldn’t help grinning. “It’s been a while, Adelia.”

Carlos thought of his elder sister as “cute,” which saddened him a bit. Not only was Adelia actually stronger than him, she was, of course, older. Although Carlos had trained as a warrior, and was proficient with a bow and arrow, he was nothing compared to her. Adelia’s talents had been clear even when she was a child; she’d been taught in the city and became a priestess.

Priestesses and priests borrowed the powers of the Ancient Six, wielding them to protect the people. They were deeply respected. The dragon scales that appeared when they prayed deflected powerful warriors’ blades and arrows, and their claws ripped through metal and even scales. Their dragon breath could take down a whole squad of warriors, while their wings let them fly across battlefields faster than any known bird. Their blood instantly healed not only their own wounds but others’ injuries.

Great priests and priestesses could use those skills at will and even transform into dragons. They were also as fearsome as dragons—no, even more fearsome, thanks to their intelligence. A great priest summoned to battle for fertile land could kill hundreds of opponents and stop thousands more, deciding the battle by keeping another god’s great priest or priestess at bay. Carlos had witnessed that countless times.

Carlos and his tribe were helping his sister train to become a great priestess. If Adelia weren’t a priestess, she’d have been wed with children soon after coming of age, he thought. What a waste.

“Sorry for making you bring all this stuff,” Adelia said apologetically.

“Please, think nothing of it. Just focus on getting stronger,” Carlos replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Adelia had yet to gain the strength a great priestess needed, but the Lord of Green’s great priests and priestesses believed she had the talent to become one if she trained diligently for another twenty years.

The Lord of Green, one of the Ancient Six, held dominion over land. Among his followers were a number of demi-humans living in the woods, like Carlos and his tribe. Tribes that produced a great priest or priestess became important in demi-human society, where the strong ruled.

“Yeah…right. I know,” Adelia answered uncertainly. She wasn’t fond of violence. As a priestess, she could fight, and she’d do so without question if necessary. However, the thought of killing made her uncomfortable.

“I’ve got a bunch of gifts for you,” Carlos told her. “A jar of salt, spices, and some preserved food. I’ve even got those dried appuls you like so much.”

“Fantastic! Thank you!”

Her little brother’s words wiped away Adelia’s doubts, and she watched him lay out her gifts on the flat stone she used as a dining table.

As Adelia continued to train to become a great priestess, the bevy of treasures her little brother brought her from town kept a smile on her face. She was especially happy today, since she hadn’t eaten a certain food in the last month.

Carlos smiled at his elder sister. “I also brought five sets of freshly sewn underwear, as well as the meat and hide from a one-horned boar I just took down. Oh, and two fire stones, three fishing hooks…” He pulled out the gifts he’d brought till he got to the last thing. His brow furrowed slightly.

This was definitely what Adelia asked for, although her request had initially puzzled Carlos. Since it was something she’d asked for after coming home for the first time in three months, Carlos knew it was important.

So, after pausing for a moment, Carlos took what he’d brought out. “And fifty silver pieces, right?” The leather bag jingled as he set it on the stone table.

“Aw, thank you! You actually brought it!” Adelia looked at the bag joyfully; it bulged with sparkling coins.

Her reaction puzzled Carlos. “What do you need this pile of metal for?” he asked. He had no idea; fifty silver pieces was a significant sum of money, but it’d be completely useless in the middle of the mountains. Of course, if Adelia descended the mountain, she’d have plenty of ways to spend it. Still, it was a three-day walk from this cottage to town, where Carlos—her closest family—lived.

“Oh…um…I’m going to spend it on fried eggs at the Restaurant to Another World,” Adelia answered nonchalantly.

“Fried eggs?” Carlos looked at her blankly. “What’s this Restaurant to Another World?”

“Huh…? Oh! I totally forgot that you don’t know about it!” replied Adelia, realizing that she’d never told Carlos about Nekoya. “In that case, you have perfect timing! Today just happens to be the Day of Satur. Want to come with me?”

She was inviting her elder brother to one of her favorite places—a spot she hadn’t been able to visit recently for financial reasons.

***

Beyond the cottage, there was a rocky area where Adelia often trained. Among the stones, Carlos could see claw marks she’d made while practicing…as well as something else. A black door sat atop the largest rock nearby. “Adelia, what the heck is that?”

“What do you mean? That’s the entrance to the Restaurant to Another World,” his sister replied, glancing at him. Quickly, she opened the door.

Ring-a-ding! The bell echoed through the air.

“Come on, hurry up!” Adelia exclaimed. “Go ahead of me. When this door closes, it disappears.”

Once, Adelia had realized on her way into the restaurant that she’d forgotten her wallet; when she went back to grab it, she’d made the unfortunate discovery about the door disappearing. Her tail drooped sadly as she recalled it.

“A-all right.” As his sister directed, Carlos stepped through the doorway. After watching him walk all the way into the restaurant, Adelia dove through the door as well.

Carlos peered at the white light—likely magical, he thought—coming from the ceiling. “It’s certainly bright in here,” he whispered to himself. This place was far removed from anything he knew.

“Now, now, don’t worry about it! Let’s eat! Everything here is delicious.” Adelia led Carlos by the hand to a table as he gazed curiously around the dining room. Sitting down, she quickly called her order out to Aletta. “Hey, could I get one of those spa-something fried-egg doohickies? Party size!”

The waitress was carrying another guest’s meal. “One Spanish omelet, party size, coming right up!” she replied, seemingly used to Adelia’s style of ordering, before disappearing into the kitchen to relay the order.

“Adelia, isn’t that girl a follower of Chaos? Is it safe here…?” a stunned Carlos asked after watching his sister’s back-and-forth with the waitress.

The Ancient Six had brought their powers together only once: to eliminate the Million Colors of Chaos that threatened the world. Those who worshiped that monstrous being were called “followers of Chaos.” Many members of the Baphomet race followed Chaos. Aside from their horns, they looked human…but as far as Carlos knew, they were all servants of darkness.

Followers of Chaos sought to summon the Million Colors of Chaos back into the world. Some were said to have power that surpassed even a great priest or priestess in dragon form. They were the enemies of all the followers of the Ancient Six.

Over the last few decades, the followers of Chaos had gone quiet for some reason. Still, Carlos felt there was no way a priestess could overlook the blatant presence of a follower of Chaos like this waitress.

However, Adelia simply laughed off her brother’s concern. “Ah ha ha! It’s no problem. Aletta’s a sweetie.”

It was true that, when the master at Nekoya hired a follower of Chaos, Adelia had been surprised. But as far she could tell, Aletta was a nice girl who did her job well and was serious about her work. Since she hadn’t done anything wrong, there was no need for Adelia to act, either. In fact, doing so would’ve caused Adelia more of a problem, because anyone who raised a fuss in Nekoya was banned forever.

Apparently, the other priests and priestesses who frequented the restaurant felt the same. Adelia had never seen any of them make a stink over Aletta.

“I see. Well, if you say so.” Carlos finally let his shoulders relax. His sister could be a little careless on occasion, but she was a good judge of character. If Adelia said the waitress was fine, then she was fine.

Just then, Aletta hurried over to their table with food in hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting!” she declared. “Here’s your Spanish omelet!”

Their tray contained two small empty plates, a knife, forks, some kind of red box, and a large ceramic plate requiring two hands to hold. On the plate sat…

“Bread?” murmured Carlos. “No…wait. Is that fried egg?!” The large, golden-yellow egg dish was indeed big enough to serve at a party; Carlos couldn’t help but stare.

“Yup! Amazing, right?” Adelia wagged her tail and panted as the scent wafted toward her. “All this for a single silver piece!”

The omelet clearly contained at least five or six eggs, and a single egg normally cost several copper pieces. Assuming that a single silver piece was worth ten coppers, that was an absurd bargain.

“Crazy…” The omelet’s sweet aroma reached Carlos’s nose. He gulped.

Grinning at her little brother’s reaction, Adelia took her fork in hand. “Shall we dig in?” She cut a chunk from the massive omelet with the knife. Placing it on a small plate, she presented it to Carlos, complete with fork. “Go ahead.”

Carlos clearly couldn’t wait. The second he took the plate, he cut a large piece of omelet and put it in his mouth.

“Incredible…!” The flavor astonished him.

All kinds of ingredients were mixed into the omelet. The egg itself was fried with butter, and its slight saltiness—alongside the pepper’s mild heat—packed a punch. The warm, fluffy cobbler’s tubers collapsed inside his mouth. Meanwhile, the corn was much sweeter than what Carlos’s tribe usually ate. The minced, oranie-like vegetable was crunchy and hot, and the gentle egginess enveloped the lightly seasoned smoked meat, giving it a savory taste. The cheese’s faint flavor brought it all together—it was tremendous.

The piece of omelet that once occupied Carlos’s small plate vanished rapidly into his stomach. More…I need more!

Carlos licked the remaining egg from the corners of his mouth and reached toward the large plate for a second slice of omelet. To his surprise, the mountain of egg was visibly shrinking. Adelia was putting in some work.

Glancing at his older sister, Carlos noticed something. “Adelia, what’s that?”

Adelia held the red box the waitress had brought alongside their meal. It wasn’t clear what the object was made from; when Adelia squeezed it, it easily changed form, and something red emerged from the tip. Adelia was pouring the red substance on her omelet and apparently enjoying it that way.

“Hm? Oh, this is a sauce called ketchup! It’s a mix of boiled marmett, vinegar, and some other stuff,” Carlos’s sister explained, devouring her ketchup-topped omelet.

After watching her, Carlos likewise tried his eggs with ketchup. The omelet, studded with plentiful mixed vegetables and meat and flavored with salt and pepper, was delicious enough on its own. But it transformed when Carlos added ketchup. The sauce gave the omelet ingredients a sour kick, bringing the flavors together and making them even more delicious.

“Whoa—it really is better with ketchup!” Sampling the omelet with ketchup honestly made the fried eggs seem lacking without it. Stunned by this revelation of flavor, Carlos continued to dig in.

“Right? Ketchup goes great with pretty much every egg dish they serve here.” Adelia couldn’t help smile seeing her younger brother acting like a little child.

As the siblings ate and talked, the massive omelet steadily faded from existence.

“So, what next?” Adelia asked. “Want seconds?”

Carlos nodded not once but twice. “Yeah!”

“All right. Then maybe we should order drinks to go with it! Hey, Aletta!”

Adelia had reunited with her brother for the first time in ages; she also had a delicious meal and a bag full of silver. It was cause for celebration—she decided to pig out this one time.

Chapter 98: Napolitan

Chapter 98:
Napolitan

JONATHAN HEARD the bell ringing as he passed through the doorway, his eyes locked on to a small table at the back. “Young Master…”

“Yes. Go ahead,” said his boss, Sirius.

Jonathan went straight for the table before the waitress could reach him. “Ah, welcome!” she cried. “I’ll get you some ice water.”

“Thanks. I’m also ready to order, if you don’t mind,” Jonathan replied. “Could I get mixed-seafood pizza, please?”

Watching Jonathan sit down and order immediately, Sirius grinned. Oh my. He’s as passionate as ever.

According to Jonathan, the table he’d sat at was perfect for any cook. From that table, he could just barely see into the kitchen, so he could watch the chef make the restaurant’s otherworldly dishes. After coming to Nekoya with Sirius numerous times, Jonathan had noticed the table’s view and sat there whenever it was available, even if it meant leaving Sirius on his own.

The table was normally taken if the female merchant and her swordsman friend—or that one elf who occasionally popped in—were at the restaurant. In other words, Jonathan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the valuable spot.

“Now, then…” As the restaurant’s master prepared his order, Jonathan began his observation of the kitchen. Impressed by the lad’s drive, Sirius sat at another open seat.

Once the waitress passed the chef Jonathan’s request, she returned from the kitchen, prompting Sirius to call to her as well. “Ah, excuse me! I’d like to place my order.”

“Of course,” replied the waitress, who was surprisingly presentable for a demon. “What would you like?”

“Napolitan with sausages, please,” Sirius ordered, deciding to leave the research to Jonathan for today. “Oh, and a café au lait for after, as well.”

The food in the other world included a smoked meat known as bacon, as well as meat-stuffed sausages. It was only after eating all kinds of dishes at Nekoya that Sirius had concluded Napolitan with sausages was his favorite food of all.

“Absolutely! I’ll be right back.”

Silently nodding in reply, Sirius glanced around the dining room. Now that I look closely, there are diners here from who knows where.

Sirius had been born and raised in a wealthy capital city on the Eastern Continent. He belonged to a powerful merchant family that did business with royalty. As such, he could usually determine someone’s background at first glance. That was precisely why he felt the unbelievable rumors circulating in the capital recently held some truth.

One sketchy rumor mentioned an unknown continent beyond the Dragon God Sea, south of the continent humans called home. The unknown continent’s citizens supposedly worshiped dragons as deities and were even rumored to have developed a culture similar to humans’. An adventurer had apparently spotted these nonhuman peoples and written about it in their journal, which they’d passed on to another adventurer.

Normally, this kind of rumor would hold no water. For one thing, in all of humans’ recorded history, not a single person had ever made it beyond the Dragon God Sea; it was dominated by vicious monsters.

Sirius wouldn’t have believed any part of it until, not long ago, he’d encountered Nekoya. Guests from all over Sirius’s world came together there. Observing the diners, Sirius came to understand certain things. He’d gotten used to seeing people dressed in Eastern Continent attire. He’d also encountered people in styles from the Western Continent, although he still wasn’t accustomed to that quite yet.

Sirius had also seen a few other species at the restaurant—demi-humans, lizardmen, orcs, and faeries. However, he’d never personally spoken with members of any of these monstrous species populating the world.

Mingling with those guests were humans and dwarves in unfamiliar formal clothes. They had bronze skin like people from the Western Continent’s Sand Nation. However, unlike the Sand Nation’s citizens, these people confidently wore attire that revealed their arms and legs. There were even lamia and similar beings—species normally feared as dangerous, human-hunting monsters—wearing formal ritual clothes.

Witnessing these truths himself had led Sirius to believe the circulating rumors to a degree. Come to think of it, this restaurant pretty much answers the question of how the rumored adventurer even got home. Nekoya also explained why an adventurer who made such an amazing discovery would be relegated to a whispered rumor, rather than shouting their findings to the world.

Sirius himself didn’t yet know all the faces that regularly visited the restaurant. If the adventurer who crossed the Dragon God Sea ate here… He was lost in thought as the waitress came over.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” she said. “Here’s your Napolitan.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

At the arrival of his food, Sirius switched gears. The Alfade Company traded in foodstuffs, so he always gave meals his full attention. That was what his grandfather, who’d revived the company, taught him.

Sirius emptied his mind of all else and focused on the dish before him—Napolitan. The feast atop the white plate was vibrant. Marmett ketchup dyed the noodles red, and green vegetables added pizazz to the presentation. The otherworldly mashruums were diced, and the oranie gave the whole dish a nice crunch. Sirius felt that Napolitan was among the restaurant’s most colorful dishes, not counting the many desserts and treats they served.

Now then, time to dig in. Sirius picked up his fork, his stomach growling at the aroma of the butter-and-ketchup sauce.

First, a single bite. He plunged his fork into the Napolitan and brought some noodles to his mouth.The butter’s rich flavor and the ketchup’s gentle bitterness fused with the pasta, creating quite a delectable combination on their own. Mmm. Yes, the flavor really does change when you stir-fry the noodles.

The secret to the Napolitan’s flavor—which was altogether different from the noodles Sirius usually ate—was the way it was cooked. The complex flavor spreading through his mouth was unattainable from simply boiling the noodles.

Jonathan had observed the restaurant’s cooking process and noticed the difference. The noodles were boiled first, then fried in butter with the ketchup and other ingredients in a deep, wide wok.

This new process, called “stir-frying,” was very different from cooking in the Western Continent’s Ocean Nation, where either boiling or frying was commonplace. Through “stir-frying,” the Napolitan attained a flavor far beyond a dish that was simply boiled and sauced.

Sirius ate some of the other ingredients mixed with the noodles. The Napolitan’s add-ins were also fried in butter and flavored with ketchup, and were almost good enough to eat on their own. The diced vegetables added texture and a slightly bitter aftertaste. The oranie was sweet; the mashruums rich with savory juices.

The marbling on the sausages wasn’t impressive compared to bacon, but their juiciness filled the mouth. They were delicious, but there weren’t many pieces; the Napolitan struck a delicate balance between noodles and the accompanying meat and veggies.

Mm-hmm. The additional ingredients are flavorful, but too much meat or too many veggies would ruin the balance, Sirius concluded. He believed Napolitan was meant to focus on the noodles’ flavor; one couldn’t fully enjoy that if the dish was too busy. Everything else in the Napolitan is included to bring out the best in the noodles.

Sampling the dish again, Sirius found that the meat and vegetables had another gustatory duty. Their savory taste complemented the noodles, producing a flavor contrast that was subtle but significant. Sirius’s appraisal was that Napolitan was a dish which perfectly fused noodles and other ingredients.

Now, time to change things up. After eating about half the Napolitan, he reached for the small box the waitress had brought to the table with his meal. Opening the top, he shook the box upside down. Some sort of off-white powder rained down onto the Napolitan.

Too much of the stuff would destroy the dish’s carefully balanced flavor, so Sirius paid attention to the amount of straw-colored snow he sprinkled onto the noodles. He stopped as soon as a thin layer dusted them and then once again took hold of his fork.

Plunging the utensil into the snow-covered noodles, he brought some straight to his mouth. The mild powdered cheese changed the Napolitan’s bitter flavor into something entirely new.

All right. This is it. Sirius picked up the glass bottle of red sauce and shook some onto his plate, being even more careful than he had been with the powdered cheese. One red droplet of Tabasco sauce fell from the bottle; that was enough to alter the Napolitan’s flavor. Sirius took a bite, and fierce, powerful heat assaulted his mouth.

The Napolitan hadn’t contained the Tabasco’s sour flavor and hot spice before, but they proved wonderful accents that whetted Sirius’s appetite, calling his fork to the plate yet again. According to Jonathan, Tabasco sauce was likely made from chili pepels; it was extremely hot, and its flavor was very strong. In small quantities, it accented most dishes amazingly. If your hand slipped, however, your food became inedible. Fortunately, things went right with the Tabasco this time.

With the addition of the hot sauce, the Napolitan was just as Sirius liked. Now we’re talking! Satisfied with the dish’s flavor, he dug in with enthusiasm.

The Alfade Company was a big deal, even in the capital city, and Sirius belonged to the family that founded it. Since he would eventually lead the company, he’d dealt with nobility time and again, and he was the sort of person who often conducted research to further the company’s influence. But this time, and this time alone, he was just a young man enjoying a feast as he indulged in the Napolitan.

Without realizing it, Sirius cleaned his plate, leaving behind only a stain of red sauce.

“Phew…” He rubbed his belly, dropping some sugar into his café au lait before taking a sip. The sweetness and milk fused with the cafa’s bitter flavor, washing away the Napolitan’s aftertaste. “There we go.”

After indulging in his Napolitan, Sirius concluded his weekly break, transforming back into the ambitious young man he usually was. Leaving the exact number of silver and copper coins owed for his bill, he returned to the capital more determined than ever.

Chapter 99: Coffee Jelly

Chapter 99:
Coffee Jelly

ONCE THE MERCILESS SUN and its deadly rays dropped beneath the desert’s horizon, the thin veil of night settled across the sky. In one of numerous Sand Nation towns built next to an oasis, the mage Alef—who’d lived there for years—got up and stretched his arms wide.

“Light come forth…!” He touched his left palm gently, prompting an orange ball of light to appear. Stroking his unkempt beard, Alef whispered to himself. “Hrmph. That was a sound sleep.”

He rose to his feet, put on his sandals, and went outside. As usual, he saw merchants and sand lizards walking beneath the magic lights that illuminated the town.

Lately, merchants and officials from the Eastern Continent’s Empire—a country said to rival even the Kingdom, that continent’s most powerful nation—had frequented the town. The magic lights often surprised them, but in reality, it was common for even illiterate Sand Nation citizens to memorize the incantations for a handful of simple spells. These magic lights were common, too.

“Now then, I’m rather hungry.” Alef rubbed his stomach as the aroma of fried fish caught in the nearby oasis wafted over from nearby stalls. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t eaten since munching some leftover flatbread that morning.

“Wait,” he said to himself. “Today’s the Day of Satur, isn’t it?”

Alef marched toward his new destination; he passed through the crowds of people and entered an empty house. The ceiling had collapsed, allowing moonlight in. At this point, nobody had lived in the rundown building for years. Amid the decay stood a black door.

Yes…the magic power comingfrom this door is staggering, as always.

A few years ago, Alef—a mage so wise that he was often called a sage—had sensed abnormal magic leaking from this empty house. Soon afterward, he’d found this door. It was powered by elven magic—the same kind that, in ancient times, had birthed the great desert the Sand Nation occupied. When Alef first discovered the door, his own curiosity drove him to open it.

As he listened to the ring of the door’s bell, his empty stomach urged him to hurry.

Beyond the door was an otherworldly eatery lit more brightly than the town he’d just come from. Inside were numerous people—as far as Alef could see, residents of an Eastern Continent nation and another country, various monsters, and all kinds of other strange guests were enjoying warm meals. Observing them all, he sat at an open table.

“Welcome!” called the restaurant’s waitress, a demon with Eastern Continent features. “I’ll be right back with ice water and a moist towel.”

Almost as if she’d been waiting for the exact right time to greet Alef, the waitress quickly brought a warm, moist cloth and a glass of cold water. The latter was a tremendously precious resource in the desert.

“Ah, you have my gratitude. I’m actually ready to order,” Alef replied, taking the water and towel as always. “I’d like today’s special with bread, please. Oh, and could I have an espresso before the meal, and coffee jelly after?”

Those three menu items were Alef’s usual meal at Nekoya. A daily set containing bread, soup, and that day’s main course; cafa (apparently called “coffee” in the other world); and a stiffened-cafa dessert.

“Of course!” confirmed the waitress. “I’ll be sure to bring your espresso as soon as possible.”

“Thanks.” Alef nodded.

When he’d first started coming to the restaurant, this waitress was still quite awkward. Thanks to putting in the time and effort, however, she’d improved at interacting with guests. That kind of small change put a smile on Alef’s face, especially as someone whose daily life rarely changed at all.

Soon, the young waitress returned with Alef’s cafa. “Thank you for waiting. Here’s your espresso.”

A white handled cup sat atop a small white ceramic saucer. The cup was filled to the brim with pitch-black cafa that gave off a rich, familiar smell.

What a delightful fragrance, thought Alef. They used high-quality beans for this.

As he enjoyed the scent, the mage dropped three spoonfuls of sugar from the sugar jar into the cafa, then picked up the tiny spoon next to the saucer and stirred the drink. The small grains of white sugar dissolved into the dark liquid.

Without adding any milk, Alef lifted his cup and drank the cafa slowly. Its strong aroma and bitter flavor melded with the sugar’s sweetness, passing across his tongue into his stomach.

This restaurant is the only place you can get such rich cafa.

The flavor was enough to put a smile on Alef’s face. Like many men of the Sand Nation, Alef loved cafa’s powerful aroma and flavor, and the way it cleared your head when you drank it. He wasn’t fond of the way alcohol muddled one’s mind, so when he wanted to enjoy himself, his drink of choice was cafa.

The other world’s “espresso” cafa had a complex flavor. It isn’t just that the beans are good, Alef thought. They must brew or pour it in some special way.

There were multiple ways to make cafa in the other world. The standard method was to boil water and steep roasted cafa in it. You could also drink it with milk (this was a novelty, since in the Sand Nation people were used to drinking milk straight from a cow’s udders, since it didn’t sour or dry out that way). Then you could drink cafa cold, or, as he was doing now, drink the incredible espresso, nice and rich.

You could also foam the milk, reduce the amount of water in the cafa, and add half-frozen ice cream—a type of cool treat. There were all kinds of otherworldly ways to enjoy cafa, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that was the main reason Alef came to the restaurant.

Just as Alef finished enjoying his espresso, the waitress arrived. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Your meal’s ready! Today’s special is fried shrimp croquettes.”

“Oh. Thank you very much.” The waitress’s words prompted Alef to pick up his fork and prepare to go to “battle.”

***

After finishing his croquettes and filling up on soft white bread and refreshing soup, Alef requested his post-meal treat. “Excuse me, could you bring me dessert?”

The waitress had just happened to pass by. “Of course! Please wait a moment.”

She vanished into the kitchen, then came right out with his dessert in hand. “Sorry for the wait! Here’s your coffee jelly.”

“Ooh! Thank you,” Alef said gratefully, peering at the dish sitting in front of him. The square black confection in the wide-rimmed glass honestly looked like some sort of thinly sliced slime, yet it was Alef’s favorite treat.

The mage rubbed his stomach once, making sure he was full of hot food. He felt you needed to ensure your stomach was already satisfied when digging into something truly delicious. An empty stomach made everything taste good—hard bread, cold cafa. So, Alef’s way of doing things was to save the tastiest food for when he was full. Something good even then was truly delicious.

Yeah, I’m satisfied. Now to dig in. Alef picked up his spoon. First, a single mouthful.

Looking at the small jar of cream, he decided he’d eat his first bite of coffee jelly without any on top. He grabbed a spoonful of the firm black dessert and brought it to his mouth.

Mmm. Delicious.

The jelly had a smooth, unique texture and a mild, subtly sweet cafa flavor. It was cold, but not nearly as chilly as ice cream. It put up no resistance, falling apart in his mouth. Enjoying the sensation for a moment, Alef swallowed. The jelly that’d once pleased the tip of his tongue slid down his throat into his stomach.

I wonder how they make this? Alef couldn’t help asking himself that question every time he visited the restaurant.

He had no idea how coffee jelly was prepared. The restaurant sold hardened mixtures of fruit juice, milk, and eggs; Alef surmised that those contained an ingredient similar to one in coffee jelly. He remembered how, when fresh fish caught at the oasis were cooked in soup at night, the entire dish congealed by the time the sun rose—could that also be caused by this ingredient?

Mulling it over, Alef took another bite. Given that I get to enjoy coffee jelly now, who cares, I suppose, he thought, enjoying his full stomach and the jelly’s smooth texture.

At any rate, it would take a lot of research before he could make this stuff from scratch. Even if he could, it likely wouldn’t taste as good as the coffee jelly the restaurant served. Magic was a mage’s realm, and food was a cook’s.

Alef moved on to the next way of enjoying the coffee jelly, grabbing the cream sitting beside the dish. “Cream” was fatty milk containing relatively little water. Just a bit… A thin stream of cream poured into the glass, tracing white lines on the black jelly. Perfect.

Having drizzled the rich white cream onto the translucent black jelly, Alef watched as they mingled, producing a lovely shade of mahogany. He took a spoonful of jelly and ate, deeply satisfied with the new flavor. When you added cream, coffee jelly became the complete package.

First, Alef tasted the cream’s rich dairy flavor; beneath that, he picked up on the savory cafa’s refreshing taste blending with the cream. Since they hadn’t completely united yet, the coffee jelly still showcased two different flavors. Eventually, they combined, mimicking the taste of a café au lait. A single bite of coffee jelly brought Alef those three amazing tastes, which was part of why it was so incredible.

Mm. All coffee jelly really needs is cream. That coffee-jelly parfait is too crowded.

As far as Alef was concerned, coffee jelly with cream was the epitome of food experiences. It was complex but not overly so, allowing the diner to appreciate the interplay of the cream and cafa. He kept digging in with his spoon, each bite of coffee jelly confirming the excellence of the last.

Eventually, the coffee jelly vanished from Alef’s dish, leaving behind swirled pools consisting of remnants of deep brown cafa and milky white cream. Alef promptly drank the mixture and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. That was wonderful. The aftertaste of cafa remained on his tongue, and his stomach was joyously full. He decided to head home and get to sleep while those sensations remained.

Alef rose to his feet and placed the precise number of copper coins on the table. “Master! I’m leaving the fee here!”

The master was used to this. He poked his head out from the kitchen and grinned at Alef. “Got it! Please come again!”

“Absolutely. I’ll be back in a week,” Alef answered with a smile.

Chapter 100: Mixed Rice

Chapter 100:
Mixed Rice

IT WAS FRIDAY NIGHT. Standing before a shining, silver object, the master thought, The season’s here yet again.

The end of summer heralded the coming of autumn. As far as Nekoya was concerned, fall was the season of food. The regular menu didn’t change, but all sorts of seasonal ingredients were used for the daily specials, and the restaurant served cheap, delicious seasonal dishes.

Thanks to the specials’ cheapness and variety, they were the restaurant’s main attraction, so the master never skimped on ingredients. He tasted everything he was going to cook himself. One of the many ingredients he’d use—fresh salmon from the local fishmonger—now sat in front of him.

“The first salmon of the season,” the master murmured.

The fresh salmon available in the fall was cheap and delicious compared to the frozen and imported salmon sold year-round. Fall salmon was particularly fatty, so there were all kinds of ways of cooking it.

“Now, what’s the most delicious way to use this guy?”

Generally, the master cleaned fresh autumn salmon and served it as sashimi. However, he could also just salt it and run it over a flame; that’d be delicious enough, too.

“Didn’t I just get a new shipment of rice in?” he asked himself. Rice and salmon… Thinking of a dish that fully utilized both ingredients, the master came to a decision.

He brought down a tiny rice cooker from his apartment and then prepared the salmon. Cutting off a large piece of fish, he put it in the rice cooker with mushrooms and freshly rinsed rice, setting the timer so the dish would be ready the next morning.

“There we go. Tomorrow morning’s going to be a delight.”

The master rolled his neck gently after finishing his prep work. Stretching his arms, he returned to his third-floor apartment.

***

Aletta walked through the rundown neighborhood. Lately, she only found herself visiting this area when she was going to the restaurant.

It’s gotten a bit cold recently, the demon girl reflected. The morning air was chilly on her skin, and she appreciated the warmth of her one presentable winter outfit. Fall had settled on the capital city. Freshly harvested autumn crops and wheat filled the marketplace, and summer’s hot sunlight had faded.

On her way, Aletta passed and greeted the robed young mage who’d moved into the poorer district in the year since she’d started living and working at Sarah’s house. “Hello! Good morning. You’re up and about early.”

“Yup! Morning,” the mage replied.

The open space Aletta walked to had been cleaned up recently; the rubble was gone. In the center of the space was the door to the Restaurant to Another World. As soon as Aletta set foot in the area, she grew impatient to open the door and step in. I’m going to give it my all today!

Eager to do well, she passed through the doorway, her destination in sight.

***

The sound of the door’s bell ringing through the air signaled Aletta’s arrival.

The young waitress tilted her head at the unfamiliar sight in the kitchen. “Um, what’s this?”

In front of her was a box made of neither wood nor metal but some otherworldly material. A steady stream of steam, and the pleasant aroma of fish, came from the box.

“Oh, that?” said the master. “It’s a rice cooker. I always use one to make rice.”

“This is a rice cooker?” Aletta cocked her head again. She was familiar with the magic tool that somehow produced hot rice if you simply inserted uncooked rice and water. However, that was a silver metal box. The strange black object in front of her didn’t resemble the rice cooker she was familiar with at all.

“See, what I’m cooking this time is a little delicate,” the master explained. “Using a professional-grade rice cooker isn’t the right move.”

The dish he was making was, in fact, delicious. However, it didn’t suit Nekoya’s “Western cuisine” schtick, so the master usually didn’t serve it. Since he’d gotten fresh salmon and rice, though, he’d decided to cook some for a staff meal.

“All right. It should be good to go,” the master said, opening the rice-cooker lid and allowing the autumnal scent to fill the air.

The aroma of soy sauce, rice, and fresh fish brought a smile to Aletta’s face. “Wowee! It smells amazing.”

“Right? This is Nekoya’s special salmon-and-mushroom mixed rice.” Seeing Aletta light up, the master couldn’t help but grin himself. “I made quite a bit, so you can even have seconds.”

Aletta sat down and watched the final touches with anticipation. The master put some radishes, rolled omelets, miso soup with fried tofu, and hot tea on a tray and set it in front of her. “Here you go.”

Also sitting on the tray was, of course, the main dish itself—mixed rice in a large tea bowl. Bits of pink fish meat were mixed with rice dyed brown with soy sauce. This traditional Japanese breakfast was a rare sight at Nekoya.

Aletta picked up the bowl. “Thank you so much!”

“Let’s dig in.”

“Right—time to dig in! Oh, Dark Lord, thank you for bestowing the gift of food upon me!” Mixing her own grace with the master’s words, Aletta started eating.

The first thing she tried was the brown rice piled in the bowl in front of her. This kind of looks like pilaf, but I guess it isn’t “Western” cuisine, she thought, considering the food it resembled most closely. The breakfast dish certainly looked similar to pilaf, which contained steamed meat and blessings of the sea but didn’t smell like butter.

Furthermore, instead of eating the mixed rice with a spoon, Aletta was offered two rods called “chopsticks.” The square omelet garnished with grated vegetables wasn’t topped with ketchup, either—something she’d never seen at Nekoya.

Aletta had already worked a full year at the restaurant, so she soon realized what she was looking at. Wait. Could this be Eastern cuisine…?

The master rarely made Eastern cuisine. You ate that using chopsticks, and many of the dishes were rice-heavy or eaten with rice. The handful of dishes on Nekoya’s menu that leaned toward Eastern cuisine were generally ones people from the other world’s West quite enjoyed. According to the master, other restaurants served better Eastern cuisine, so he rarely offered it even to staff.

With that in mind, Aletta took her first bite. Ah…this is really good!

The rice’s sweet flavor filled her mouth, pairing incredibly with the saltiness of the soy sauce. The plentiful pink meat and mushrooms were also excellent. The perfectly cooked fish smelled fresh and was delightfully fatty; each time Aletta bit in, its savory juices flowed into her mouth. When she’d lived back home in the dangerous mountains, Aletta had never eaten fish, yet somehow the pink fish felt nostalgic.

The mushrooms in the dish had the flavor of autumn. Aletta was familiar with mushrooms from soup she’d eaten in the mountains; even when soup consisted of basically nothing but a little salt and herbs, mushrooms gave it a meaty flavor. The mushrooms that absorbed the broth were also delicious—Aletta remembered that well.

Better yet, this mixed rice included two kinds of mushrooms—thinly-sliced mushrooms called maitake, and shimeji mushrooms, which had black caps with faint white patterns. Both bestowed their savory taste upon the dish and in exchange absorbed the flavors of the soy sauce, rice, and—most importantly—fish, making them small treats in and of themselves.

Rice, fish, and mushrooms—as Aletta enjoyed those three harmonious flavors, the bowl in front of her soon emptied.

“Ha! Want seconds?” the master offered. His bowl was also empty.

“I’d love some!” Aletta nodded immediately.

When she’d first started working at Nekoya, she’d held herself back during staff meals. As time went by, however, Aletta had realized that the master liked seeing how his staff enjoyed the food. So she’d begun eating her fill—although she listened to the master’s occasional warnings not to eat so much she couldn’t work.

Waiting for her second serving of mixed rice, Aletta finally started on the rolled omelet. Mmm. These are definitely different. Every bite into the moist, slightly sweet eggs complemented the saltiness of the soy sauce and other savory flavors.

The rolled omelets weren’t entirely dissimilar to the egg Aletta herself had bought for several coppers and boiled out of curiosity. Of course, a true chef like the master could cook eggs far better than she could. (According to Sarah, the master was on par with the royal castle’s best chefs.) But that wasn’t all. Eggs normally didn’t taste like these—the egg Aletta had boiled was dry, and although it was tasty, it lacked something.

The master probably uses super-duper secret seasoning. Aletta mulled it over as she chowed down, dribbling a little soy sauce on the grated, slightly dry radish. The radish’s spicy bite and the soy sauce’s strong umami added a new dimension to the omelet.

“Salmon and rice pair well,” the master told her as he passed her a second helping. “The rolled omelets are good with the mixed rice too, you know.”

“Oh?” Aletta was quick to take his advice. She followed a bite of eggs with some mixed rice and soon realized the truth of the master’s words. The fish—apparently called salmon—and eggs were a wonderful combination. “Wow—you’re right!”

Aletta and the master quietly enjoyed their mixed rice together. When they finished their meal, the rice cooker was entirely empty.

“I didn’t think we’d be able to finish all of it,” the master observed, surprised. He realized he’d probably eaten too much; he hadn’t had mixed rice in some time, so he’d wolfed it down in excitement.

Aletta had eaten just as much mixed rice as the master. “Ah…that was wonderful.” She sipped her hot tea joyfully, her heart and soul satisfied. I wonder whether he’ll make mixed rice again sometime.

The master was delighted by Aletta’s expression. “Okay,” he told her. “Our stomachs are full, so let’s get to work!”

“All right!” Aletta grinned.

Another busy day at Nekoya began.

Chapter 101: Sweet-Potato Tart, Once More

Chapter 101:
Sweet-Potato Tart, Once More

THE YOUNG PRIEST Gustavo had only recently come of age, yet here he was, soaring through the sky.

The higher he ascended, the thinner the air got, making him gasp a little for breath. The cliff in front of him seemed to rise upward forever; the blue sky peppered with white clouds spread beyond the horizon.

Given the changing season, the mountain air was even colder than usual. Every breath Gustavo took was chilly enough to sap his stamina; he thought he might freeze. He directed his blurry vision to the man flying before him. I-Is Father unaffected?

Gustavo’s father Antonio—a veteran priest of the Lord of Gold—zipped through the sky on larger, more powerful wings. Flying made a mess of his religious robes, revealing holy patterns etched onto his powerful, rock-like body with golden dust.

Gustavo thought humanity was one of the weakest races to worship the great gods, yet he’d wanted to be like the man before him since his childhood. Antonio had fought the Lord of Red’s and the Lord of Green’s followers numerous times. He’d even held off a great priest capable of transforming into a dragon; he was the embodiment of courage.

“You’ve finally learned to fly, eh?” Antonio had said. “Then let me take you somewhere special.”

And so, Gustavo was following his father up the steepest cliff visible from their house. He’d trained hard throughout the winter, finally learning to use dragon wings, but he’d doubted his own ears when Antonio told him they’d soar all the way up here. Dragon wings let them fly long distances, but scaling this specific cliff required quite a bit of training.

I-I can’t go any higher, Gustavo thought.

The fact that he couldn’t see the clifftop, and the headache coming on out of thin air, weakened the flapping of his wings. Just as he was about to give up and set his feet down on the cliffside, Antonio’s large hand grabbed one of Gustavo’s muscular arms.

“We’re close to the top,” Antonio told him. “Make sure you can get up here yourself next time.” With those words, he gripped his son’s arm and beat his wings, pulling Gustavo upward.

“Wh-whoa!” Gustavo couldn’t help but cry out; he felt as though Antonio might dislocate his shoulder. Just as he glimpsed something black, the cliff above him vanished, revealing the blue sky beyond.

“We’re here,” Antonio said.

W-we made it? Just as the thought crossed Gustavo’s mind, his father let him go, and he landed on a wide shelf on the cliff.

“Ah,” said Gustavo. “This is incredible!” They’d flown up past the clouds, so he only saw endless blue, and it made him gulp. Gustavo had just gained wings, and he was now looking at something he’d never seen in his entire life. He turned to speak to his father.

“Hmph. What’re you doing? Hurry and tidy yourself up.” Unlike his son, who was transfixed by the sky, Antonio had folded his wings, anticipating their destination.

“You mean fix my clothes? What’re… Huh?” Full of questions, Gustavo noticed something—an out-of-place black door on the cliffside behind Antonio. “Father, why’s there a door…?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m taking you somewhere special to celebrate your new wings. It’s a wonderful place.” Antonio nodded and revealed the unbelievable truth to his son. “This is the door to an otherworldly eatery.”

The bell rang as father and son opened the door.

“This is another world…?” Gustavo surveyed his surroundings. The space’s interior was unfamiliar, and the people inside sat at tables.The majority were human, like Gustavo and Antonio, but many wore unfamiliar clothes and were eating strange foods.

There are quite a few guests here.

Upon closer inspection, Gustavo spotted lamia—likely followers of the Lord of Red—beast people wearing the robes of the Lord of Green’s worshipers, and even sirens, a race known to follow the Lord of Gold.

Besides the followers of the Lord of White, a deity that granted humanity a particularly strong blessing, there were few humans among the followers of the Ancient Six. Many races had the intelligence to worship the gods. Generally speaking, the closer you were to the region a specific god governed, the stronger the blessing you’d receive.

The Lord of Gold whom Gustavo worshiped, for example, governed the sky. Therefore, many sirens, harpies, birdmen, and tengu—species born with wings—were priests of the Lord of Gold. Humans who trained vigorously and gained wings were few and far between. Despite that, there were lots of humans in this room. It’s hard to believe they all worship the Lord of White.

That wasn’t all. The young woman who seated them, cheerfully conversing with Gustavo’s father, had horns and gave off traces of magic. As far as Gustavo knew, those were qualities of followers of Chaos, the enemies of all the gods.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the young woman told Antonio. “I’ve brought the item you preordered last time.”

“Mm, much obliged,” Antonio replied. “I’d like some warm milk as well.”

After she left, Gustavo pointed out her horns and magic in a hushed voice. “Surely we should do something, Father.”

“No, it’s all right. On the contrary, we need to make sure not to cause trouble here. The gods watch over this space,” Antonio explained to his young, somewhat stubborn son. “On top of that, the master prepared something special for you today. Let’s enjoy it, not throw our weight around.”

Antonio looked down at the confection sitting on a platter in front of them. He’d ordered it a week earlier. The bronzed tart shell was full of golden kumaala and caramelized appuls.

“This is rather extravagant,” Gustavo noted, impressed by the treat. Like his father, he had a sweet tooth despite his tough looks. “Are the gold bits kumaala?”

“Mm-hmm. After consulting the master here, I learned that this ‘apple-and-sweet-potato tart’ is good in autumn, so I ordered it.”

This would be Antonio’s first time eating the dish, too. However, he wasn’t concerned about its potential quality; having sampled the restaurant’s sweet-potato tart, he was well aware of how delicious Nekoya’s kumaala desserts were. “Shall we dig in? Just sitting here looking is painful.”

The father and son began their humble celebration. Antonio picked up a shining silver knife to slice the pie. Hrmm, he mused. This kind of large tart certainly is eye-catching.

The appuls had been cut into half-circles and arranged to form pale moons. Below them was a sea of golden kumaala; Antonio’s silver knife parted that ocean. Hearing his son swallow loudly, he cut a large piece, placing it on one of the small plates the waitress brought.

He handed the slice to Gustavo. “Today’s about you. You should eat first.”

Gustavo took the plate, surprised. “Are you sure…?”

His father was the head of the family and the priest of his people. Usually, he ate the largest portion during mealtimes. Yet here he was, offering his son the biggest and best piece of the tart he’d ordered.

“You think too much. No one’s watching us here. It’s just you and me,” Antonio said, discarding his usual strictness with a smile. Being a powerful priest meant that a stern, tough manner was expected when dealing with others. Barely any of the Lord of Gold’s followers were here, though, so he let himself dote on his son today. “At any rate, eat up. I’ve never had this dish, either. It looks amazing.”

“All right.” At his father’s words, Gustavo reached for the treat on the plate in front of him.

The kumaala peeking out from the tart’s cut side was vibrant enough that Gustavo thought it was almost a waste to eat it. Hmm. I’ve never seen such bright-golden kumaala. Since he felt that way, he couldn’t imagine what his mother would make of the tart. She often sought out delicious kumaala in the marketplace, so this dish would probably thrill her. With that in mind, Gustavo bit in.

The first things he tasted were the caramelized appul and the crust beneath the kumaala. The parboiled appul was tender but still retained a bit of crunch. The syrup’s sweetness, the slight tartness of the fruit itself, and the reddish-brown spice the chef had sprinkled atop the appuls after boiling them combined to create something truly extraordinary.

The crust fell apart under Gustavo’s teeth. He tasted a sweetness different from the fruit’s, the round flavor of milk and butter in his mouth.

Then there was the kumaala filling that brought the appuls and crust together. The golden kumaala was a feat in itself. To Gustavo, it was clear that it’d been well mashed after being cooked, since it lacked fried or boiled kumaala’s crunchy, dry mouthfeel. The kumaala’s sweetness, unlike that of the fruit and sugar, spread smoothly through Gustavo’s mouth.

The kumaala had been mixed with diced appul pieces different from the fruit decorating the top of the tart. Since the diced appul wasn’t caramelized, it was quite tart, which brought forward the sweetness of the caramelized appul, crust, and kumaala brilliantly.

Gustavo shared his first impression. “This…this is good. I never thought something so delicious existed in the world.”

“You’re right.” Hearing his son’s opinion, Antonio joyfully shared a secret with Gustavo. “I, too, was stunned the first time I ate a tart.”

The priest reached for a piece and bit into it.Much like his son, he was surprised by its flavor. Mmm. This is tempting. The small tarts he usually ate were delicious, but the larger apple-and-sweet-potato tart was truly a treat for a special occasion. The carefully prepared, scrumptious kumaala and the tangy decorative appuls’ sweetness melded far better than Antonio ever could’ve imagined.

This single slice isn’t enough. As he reached for another, Antonio realized that his son had already eaten three pieces. “What…?!”

Evidently, Gustavo had forgotten his deference in his hunger. And since Antonio had gotten lost in thought, he’d only eaten one piece. This is bad!Is Gustavo going to polish off the tart?!Sensing the end was nigh, Antonio quickly shoved another slice into his mouth.

Ultimately, the single large tart wasn’t enough for both men, so Antonio ordered more of his usual smaller tarts. After eating their fill of those, he and Gustavo drank warm milk together. The slightly sweet beverage washed away the sugar lingering on their tongues and flowed into their tart-filled stomachs.

“Whew!” Inadvertently sighing at the same time, they both smiled awkwardly.

“That was wonderful, master.” Offering his compliments to the chef, Antonio pulled a coin purse from his pouch and paid more than usual.

“Glad to hear it!” the master replied. “Thank you for your patronage. Looking forward to your next visit.”

“Absolutely. We’ll be back.”

While his father conversed with the restaurant’s human master, Gustavo quietly called over the waitress. “Is there any way I can get more of those tarts? I’d like to take some home. I’ll pay and everything.”

The tarts truly were delicious. If Gustavo offered some to the priest’s daughter he was fond of, surely he’d gain her favor. He would spend the money he’d earned as a priest on the gift.

“Of course. That’s easily done,” replied the waitress, giving him a beautiful smile that totally lacked the dark, obscene edge followers of Chaos were known for.

Tarts wouldn’t last days, but they stayed fresh for at least one day, so plenty of guests ordered some for the road.

Gustavo held up all five fingers on both hands. “Can I get ten?” he requested, thinking of the girl he would share the tarts with. Little did he realize these tarts would force him to fly up the dangerous cliff over and over in the year to come.

Chapter 102: Canapés

Chapter 102:
Canapés

JOHAN HAD DISCOVERED this small stone shack when he visited town a year ago. He passed through the doorframe, which came up only to his chest. It’d likely been designed for the dwarves living in town.

In front of him was an incredibly thick metal door that even an ogre’s punch wouldn’t budge. Something like that clearly didn’t belong inside the little shack, which contained only a table and a place to sleep, and it hadn’t been there when Johan last visited.

The wandering merchant grinned. I see. This is here to prevent rogue elements from using it.

Most of the people who entered this shack would’ve cocked their heads in confusion at the metal door. However, Johan just closed his eyes nostalgically, thinking back on the delicious booze he’d had a year ago.

At one point,I honestly didn’t think I’d live to see another day, he mused.

***

It had all started with a single rumor that a new drink called whiskey had been developed in a far-off dwarven town; the town was several months’ journey on foot. The drink was supposedly quite strong, as dwarves preferred, and had a complex flavor different from their usual hard liquor that just burned the throat. Apparently, this whiskey was so good that it was sought out not only by dwarves but also by human nobility.

The problem was, the dwarves drank the hell out of the stuff, so it was extremely scarce. As such, leaving the dwarven town with even a single bottle cost a fortune; you couldn’t obtain enough whiskey to make a business out of it.

But Johan had smelled a chance to make money. Rich folks couldn’t resist the taste of something hard to come by. For example, the umeshu made by the Western Continent’s dwarves was the drink of choice for the royal family of the Kingdom, the largest nation on the Eastern Continent.

Furthermore, Johan loved a good drink. Every time he visited a town, he tried its local specialty. Since hearing about this new, rarely exported dwarf drink, he’d just had to taste it. At this point, he’d been on his journey for an entire month.

“I’ve finally come this far.”

Johan had at last arrived on the mountaintop; he could see the dwarven town at its base.

Since most dwarves were artisans of one kind or another, they often settled in and around mountains they could mine, so visiting their towns was a major pain for humans.

Gazing down at the town’s small stone buildings lined up with smoke coming from their chimneys, Johan realized that—at long last—his objective was at hand.

Close as he was, he was tired from his long journey, so clambering down the mountain right away seemed a bit much. “I’d love to catch my breath now, but…”

Glancing about, he noticed a small stone mountain shack. “Whoa!” The dwarves had likely built the shack as a rest spot for when they climbed the mountain.

“Hm…it doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” Johan murmured. He tried the door’s low handle. Fortunately, it was unlocked, which made the shack the perfect place to rest. “I’ll gladly stop here awhile.”

He hitched his packhorse to a boulder, ducked into the shack, and peered around. Inside were a low dwarf-height table and, for some reason, two little beds. The shack was small, but the dwarves clearly put a lot of work into it.

After giving the place a look, Johan placed his hand on the handle of a large interior door that likely led to the rear of the shack. “Huh. What’s back there?” He opened the door to glance inside.

In the restaurant, a ringing bell heralded a guest’s arrival.

Poking his head through the door, Johan was flabbergasted. “How exactly is this in the back of a small dwarven shack?”

The “back room” was bigger than the entire cabin. Although it was evening, the space was so brightly lit that one might be forgiven for thinking it was midday.

Inside, several guests were eating. Johan saw monsters sitting among the more familiar humans and elves. Whoa… Just a sec. Sirens, ogres… Wait, is that a lamia?! Stunned, he froze for several moments in the doorway. Luckily, nobody even glanced at him, focused as they were on their unfamiliar meals.

“What the heck is this place?” Johan mumbled, at a loss.

A young woman—likely a demon—emerged from a door at the back of the dining area, handing customers the meals they’d ordered before turning to greet Johan. “Um, this is your first time here, right? Welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya!”

“Western Cuisine Nekoya?!” Johan cried, turning toward her.

The demon girl proudly explained the restaurant to the new arrival. “Nekoya exists in a world different from the one you and I live in!”

A little while later, Johan stared at the dish names and descriptions in the menu, still unable to believe what the girl had told him. Another world…? The door that led to this restaurant apparently appeared in his world once every seven days. I see. Another world…

Aside from a few exceptions like croquettes and french fries, the menu was full of unfamiliar dishes. Under the name of each item was a careful explanation in the Eastern Continent’s language. However, that alone wasn’t enough for Johan to fully grasp the dishes.

As he flipped through the menu’s pages, the alcohol tab jumped out at him. Huh. They sell alcohol here, too. The menu contained ale, mead, and wine, which Johan was familiar with. Then he stumbled upon a familiar word. Whiskey, eh?

“Deep, rich taste,” the menu said. “Normally drunk ‘on the rocks’ with a large piece of ice in the glass.”

Considering the picture accompanying the explanation, Johan decided to order the drink. I should also get something to munch on, he thought, turning to the next page of dishes.

“Young lady,” he called. “Excuse me, but can I order?”

“Absolutely. Go right ahead,” the demon girl nodded.

“I’d like this whiskey on the rocks. And…” In addition to the otherworldly libation, Johan ordered a snack that supposedly paired well with the drink. “Could I get an order of this ‘canapé’ thing, too?”

While he waited, he quenched his thirst with the restaurant’s free water, dabbing his sweat from the climb up the mountain with the moist towel the waitress had brought out.

“Thanks for waiting!” The waitress placed Johan’s glass and plate gently on his table. “Here’s your whiskey on the rocks and canapés.”

“Wow! These are beautiful.” A flurry of colors—vibrant green, light yellow, pink meat, multicolored strips of fish, purple-black dried grapes, the sunshiny hue of butter—sat on toasted golden bread atop his pristine white plate.

Next to the plate was a glass filled halfway with amber liquor. Thanks to the magic light coming from the ceiling, the clear glass almost appeared to shine. A chunk of ice the size of a child’s fist floated inside.

First, a sip. Salivating, Johan reached for the whiskey. After his climb, the chilled glass felt refreshing in his warm hands. Now… Careful not to let the hard liquor overwhelm him, he tilted the glass cautiously toward his mouth.

The whiskey warmed his throat and tongue immediately. Whoa! This is strong! It’s delicious, too.

So, this was whiskey. It seemed powerful enough that you’d collapse if you chugged it down. Johan took another sip, this time letting the liquor run over his tongue a bit. The otherworldly drink wasn’t just strong; it had a unique aroma and a truly complex flavor. The taste was different from the dwarves’ usual drink, which simply scorched your throat.

Guzzling this would be a waste, Johan thought, so he set the glass down for a spell. Of course, he could always order another whiskey, but the beverage was strong. The more he drank, the drunker he’d get; he’d grow incapable of appreciating the whiskey’s flavor. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

It’s about time I try some of this “canapé” stuff. Johan turned his gaze to the canapés sitting on the plate. They were clearly composed of a host of ingredients atop slices of toast. The dish’s riot of color pleased his eyes.

Where shall I start? Mulling it over for a moment, Johan reached for a canapé. Atop this particular piece, vibrant-green cucumbers sat on a pale-yellow something or other.

Holding the canapé in one hand and taking a bite, Johan finally identified the yellow ingredient.What he tasted crumbling to pieces alongside the cucumber seemed to be a spread made of finely diced, slightly sour eggs. Oh! This is delicious. And the eggs are good with cucumber.

The rich, slightly tangy flavor was fantastic; it mixed well with the cucumber’s gentle presence. Although the egg spread would’ve been delicious on its own, the moist cucumber and the sturdy wheat of the toast made the canapé even more unbelievable.

Too bad it’s so small. Since the delicious egg canapé was designed to be enjoyed alongside liquor, it was indeed a tiny dish. After only two bites, it vanished into Johan’s stomach. On the flip side, Johan mused, you could consider it a blessing that I get to try different flavors.

Although he could have gone for more egg canapés, Johan turned his gaze to another kind. Each canape was topped with something different; he would have two bites of each flavor.

He wasn’t sure how delicious the other canapés would be, but since his first choice had been so incredible, he was no longer concerned. If anything, it was his anticipation that made him pause before choosing. Eventually, he reached for his next canapé, which was topped with strips of multicolored fish.

I don’t think this fish is cooked, Johan thought, lifting the canapé. I hope it’s still good to eat.

Although he felt a bit nervous about the fish, he reconsidered quickly. This restaurant seemed trustworthy, if nothing else. It didn’t strike him as the kind of place that would serve food obviously on the verge of rotting.

With that thought buoying his confidence, Johan took a bite of the fish canapé. Yeah…I knew it. The flavor was just as he’d hoped. The fatty fish melted gently in his mouth; the saltiness and richness pleasing on his tongue.

The fish seemed to be smoked—it had a slight woodsy flavor. I see. In that case, the chef didn’t have to cook it over a fire. Still, the fish wouldn’t last longer than a day; it wasn’t dried for long storage. Nonetheless, the chef had made it delicious. Beneath the fish was a mildly sour white cheese that made quite an impression when mixed with the briny flavor of the seafood.

Next is this smoked meat canapé. As soon as Johan bit into the meat, he noticed that, unlike the toppings on the other two canapés, this meat had signs of being cooked over a flame. With each bite into the still-warm canapé, the cheese’s flavor and the meat’s savory juices poured into Johan’s mouth. The meat’s delicious rich marbling melded with the cheese, creating a tremendously savory taste the other two canapés lacked.

The meat and cheese also had a slight wood scent. Whoa…the cheese is smoked, too? Smoked meat was normal, but smoked cheese was rather uncommon. Yet the ingredients paired beautifully, bringing out the flavor and aroma of both.

As Johan filled his stomach with canapés, his plate eventually emptied. After enjoying a canapé topped with salted butter and sweet dried fruit, he reached for his glass. Now then, back to the whiskey! He was plenty full; all that was left was to enjoy the beverage.

“Hrm…?! It tastes completely different now!” Johan was stunned. The whiskey was significantly softer and easier to drink. It had burned earlier but now ran down his throat smoothly.

“I see! The ice melted!” he realized. That had reduced the alcohol’s strength, accounting for the flavor difference.

Looking at his now-empty glass, he pondered whiskey’s unique qualities. “I can’t believe it changes so much with just a little water. What a fascinating beverage.”

Since Johan loved liquor, he had no option but to enjoy this amazing new drink to the fullest. Fortunately, just beyond the door was a place he could crash—the mountain shack. He could spend the evening drinking at the restaurant, no problem.

With that in mind, Johan placed additional orders. “Excuse me!” he called. “Could I get another glass of whiskey? Wait, no. A bottle, please! And some water! Also, another plate of canapés, if you would!”

***

The liquor having done its work, Johan opened the restaurant door and exited, slightly wobbly. Jeez. That was incredible. It’s just too bad I could only get a single bottle of whiskey.

After finishing his second order of canapés and drinking his fill, he’d requested multiple bottles. However, the master had shaken his head. “Sorry, but it’s one bottle per person,” he explained. “We’re not a pub or wholesaler.”

When Johan asked, the master said that the previous owner had made that rule. Apparently, a lot of merchants came to the restaurant trying to order food and drink in bulk. The previous master had been fine with customers taking home a single bottle of whiskey, as a gift of sorts, but more than that was out of the question.

There’s not much I can do about that, I suppose. Johan was drunk, but the alcohol hadn’t robbed him of his ability to think. The master’s answer had satisfied him, and he didn’t press the subject further.

As far as Johan knew, depending on the buyer, his bottle of whiskey could sell for up to ten times what a case of bottles would cost at the restaurant. Any merchant would want to buy as much of that whiskey as possible and sell it all, he reflected. But even Johan understood such sales wouldn’t benefit a restaurant serving delicious food and drink.

Now, should I take this bottle home or go stock up on the dwarf whiskey? Johan asked himself as he exited Nekoya. He’d returned to the dwarves’ shack for a rest but quickly sobered up as the door shut behind him—he had company.

“What the hell’re you doin’ here?!”

“You damn liquor thief! I hope you’re ready!”

Two furious dwarves pointed their giant axes at Johan.

***

Johan had thought he would die then and there. I got away that day by giving them my whiskey, thank goodness. He believed that, if he hadn’t, he might not have left the dwarves’ shack alive.

In the intervening seven days, he’d entered the dwarves’ town and bought a case of their whiskey, which was delicious in itself. After a week, he and the dwarves from the shack had gone back to Nekoya, where Johan enjoyed more drinks and bought another bottle of whiskey to go. That single bottle served as the perfect gift for a local noble who loved liquor, helping Johan expand his business.

Now, Johan had gotten another request for a bottle, so he’d made the journey yet again. Of course, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He waited at the dwarves’ small shack.

After some time, the owners came in, voices booming.

“Oh ho! What’s this? Come again, have you?”

“Long time no see! Cravin’ a drink now, are we, lad?”

“Yes,” Johan replied. “Would it be all right if I accompanied you gentlemen again?”

He asked permission with a smile. After a rocky start, he’d become fast friends with the pair.

Chapter 103: Fruit Gratin

Chapter 103:
Fruit Gratin

THE SUN ROSE late on this crisp autumn day.

Victoria had finished breakfast and gotten ready earlier than normal. She now stood before the door that had appeared just as the sun rose.

I’ve got a request today, she thought, swallowing nervously as she remembered receiving the assignment beyond the door just a week ago.

Victoria’s job had once belonged to her master, Altorius, and now belonged to her. Specifically, she wrote descriptions of otherworldly desserts. Today, she’d try Nekoya’s brand-new dish and pen such a description, including the dessert’s name and price for the menu.

Resting her hand on the door, she focused on what awaited. I wonder what kind of confection the master made this time.

Victoria loved the other world’s desserts. Eight years ago, Altorius—who wasn’t particularly fond of sweets—had led her beyond the restaurant door, where she’d gotten to try all sorts of delicacies. Since then, she’d made a point of going to the restaurant once a week to eat the various creations they served.

Victoria thought the other world’s desserts were more technically advanced and delicious than any from the Duchy—no, from her whole world. Apparently, that wasn’t a stretch. Over the last few years, a staggering number of visitors had gradually come to the restaurant in search of those transcendent sweets.

According to the master, the restaurant’s menu had included barely any sweet items eight years ago, before he began stocking desserts from a proper professional.

As far as Victoria was concerned, the most delicious treat on the menu was the egg-and-milk mixture called “pudding.” However, cakes, ice cream, and jelly were delicious as well. Victoria found that she also looked forward to the undiscovered desserts she’d yet to try, so when she was occasionally offered an assignment, she happily accepted.

As usual, the bell rang when Victoria opened the door, signaling her arrival. To her surprise, she found only the master and waitresses in the restaurant. Still, it was perfectly clean and ready for visitors.

The smiling master, Aletta, and Kuro greeted Victoria.

“Ah, welcome, Victoria!”

“Welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya!”

Welcome.

“Hi! Good morning,” Victoria greeted them with a grin. “So, what’s the new dessert?”

“I’ll have you try our fruit gratin today,” the master replied, revealing the dish’s name. “It’ll be right out.”

Victoria watched him retreat into the back. Fruit gratin? I wonder what that’s like.

Victoria knew that “gratin” was a dish in which the cook mixed meat or seafood, vegetables, mashruums, and wheat noodles with knight sauce and loaded them into a ceramic dish. Then it was topped with cheese, covered, and cooked so all the ingredients melded together. It was a delicious meal, and very popular during the cold seasons—but not a dessert.

Victoria had never seen fruit used in gratin, and she had a hunch the other world’s sweet fruit wouldn’t suit the dish. Still, the master would never serve something unappetizing. She’d been a Nekoya regular for years, so she knew he didn’t offer recipes he himself didn’t find delicious. Whatever fruit gratin was, it’d be tasty.

With that in mind, Victoria waited unconcernedly. When Aletta brought out the dessert, she greeted the waitress with a smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Aletta said. “Here’s your fruit gratin.”

“Thank you kindly!”

“It’s still hot, so please be careful. Enjoy!” Aletta nodded once.

Victoria nodded in return, then focused on the fruit gratin in front of her, which was in a smaller dish than the usual gratin.

Her first impression was that the dessert’s surface was lightly browned, and its filling was in the center, exactly as she’d expect from a normal, savory gratin. However, the dish differed from savory gratin in several ways. For one thing, the ingredients were primarily sweet, cooked fruit. What stood out most was the sauce. It’s yellow, but this isn’t cheese or knight sauce. It’s probably…

Victoria picked up the small spoon on the table and broke the gratin’s golden, crunchy surface, scooping up the yellow sauce and fruit beneath. After gently licking the spoonful of fruit gratin with her pink tongue, she put it in her mouth.

I knew it! The sauce is custard. Wait, no… It’s a little different. She tried to assess the sweet flavors spreading through her mouth. What exactly is it?

First of all, the fruit was likely parboiled. Uncooked fruit was tougher and more sour, but the fruit in the gratin was quite soft, and each bite pressed out sweet juices. The first flavor Victoria recognized was the fruit known as “peach.” She often saw that colorful orange and yellow fruit on cakes and the like.

The ingredient that was tripping her up was the sauce. Since it was a yellow dessert sauce, Victoria had guessed it to be custard, an egg-and-milk concoction used in pudding and similar recipes. But though the sweet flavor and consistency were similar, the sauce lacked custard’s milkiness. I don’t think this has any milk in it. Actually, it smells like wine. Perhaps a bit was mixed in.

Holding the sauce contemplatively on her tongue, Victoria concluded that it did indeed contain wine. Since this dish was a type of gratin, the sauce was also warm. Perhaps that was why it wasn’t topped with custard; the master usually poured that on chilled desserts.

I see, Victoria thought. This is quite good. With that thought, she gazed at the seemingly infinite number of fruits within the gratin, all likely cooked to softness.

Victoria made sure to taste each fruit individually. She started with the peach; her teeth pierced its soft flesh easily. It was incredibly sweet and juicy. Each time she chewed, plenty of warm juice flowed into her mouth.

The next fruit she chose was mikun. It was also orange but slightly different from a peach. The mikun was both sweet and sour, and its texture was excellent as well. Mikun was quite common in the Duchy in the fall, and cooking somehow didn’t rob it of its unique flavor or texture. The yellow sauce’s thick, sweet flavor and the mikun enhanced each other; mikun gave the sauce a brighter taste than the other fruits.

The last fruit Victoria tried was known as “banana” in the other world. It was sticky and had a pronounced sweetness. Bananas weren’t particularly common in the Duchy. They were apparently easy to find in the Western Continent’s southern region; however, on the Eastern Continent, one only ever saw shipments imported by boat. She’d heard that bananas were seldom available.

These otherworldly fruits were all much sweeter than those Victoria was familiar with. Having been parcooked, mixed with the sticky egg-and-wine sauce, and baked, the fruits somehow each retained their distinctive flavors. The fruit gratin also contained a spice called cinnamon that lent its warm flavor and aroma to the mixture.

The gratin’s slightly browned and bitter surface brought out the sweetness in the sauce and fruit, leading Victoria to eat spoonful after spoonful of the stuff until there was no gratin left. I knew this’d be good.

As she placed her spoon down, Victoria thought once again that no matter what new sweets the master wanted to add to Nekoya’s menu, they were sure to be delicious.

Afterward, as always, she wrote her description into the menu the master brought her. “Fruit Gratin: Fresh fruit cooked with sweet egg-and-wine sauce. Both the fruit and sauce are delicious! Four copper coins.”

“Done!” Victoria called. “Is this all right?”

“Absolutely,” the master nodded. “I really appreciate your help every time.” He took the menu Victoria had written on.

“Thank goodness,” said Victoria. “Could I get the usual pudding to go? Oh, and is it possible to order a fruit gratin to go, too?” Having requested her usual, she realized now was a good time to ask about the fruit gratin as well.

“Yes!” the master nodded again. “Fruit gratin tastes pretty different when it’s cool. In a good way.”

Victoria’s niece and nephew had been dropping by to play lately, so Victoria wanted to enjoy the fruit gratin with them. With that in mind, she made her order: “Then I’ll take three servings, please. I’d like my little brother’s children to try some.”

Chapter 104: Carpaccio, Three Times

Chapter 104:
Carpaccio, Three Times

HEINRICH HAD TAKEN the Day of Satur off so he could drop into the Restaurant to Another World around noon. He sat in the dining room eating his usual fried shrimp and watching the other guests—one rather loud pair, to be precise.

“Ah…this fish might be even tastier than usual! Can I get more?”

“C’mon, Iris, quiet down! Sorry, but could we get another order of the fish, please?”

Wings drooped from the diners’ backs. At first glance, both looked like young girls, but from their speech, they seemed to be a young man and woman. They were apparently enjoying their meals.

Are they really all right with eating raw fish? Heinrich wondered. Is that because they’re monsters?

Heinrich was well educated, having been born into the family of a lord who governed a town in the Duchy. Thus, he knew the pair were terrifying monsters called sirens that lived on islands and especially liked fish. It made sense that they enjoyed the fish raw, since he’d never heard of sirens using fire.

Where Heinrich came from, he’d been taught never to eat raw fish. One boiled them, grilled them, gutted and dried them, or smoked them till they were tough as hell—at any rate, they weren’t eaten raw. As a little boy, he’d heard stories about people eating undercooked fish, then getting sick to their stomachs and dying due to the parasites or poison still inside.

But that…that looks good, Heinrich thought as he polished off his order of fried fish. Despite being uncooked, the sirens’ meals really did look delicious.

***

What was the tastiest item on Nekoya’s menu?

The answer changed depending on who you asked. Some responded that the fried meat dishes were best, while some said the restaurant’s true strength was its incredibly fresh, delicious vegetables and mashruums. There were even those who’d answer that bread was the restaurant’s underappreciated true star and those who’d say the same of rice.

While some customers came early in the day for a rib-sticking meal, others visited during the afternoon to enjoy a cup of tea and some sweets. Then there were those who arrived in the evening, drinking themselves to oblivion while enjoying a bite. There were all sorts of ways to appreciate the Restaurant to Another World.

***

As far as Heinrich was concerned, Nekoya’s true attraction was its selection of fish and blessings of the sea. How could he not feel that way when the restaurant served shripe between two slices of bread—a completely new way of eating the famously quick-to-spoil food? On top of that, Nekoya’s incredible tartar sauce brought out the best in the shripe. The restaurant was the only place Heinrich could enjoy such a thing.

Come to think of it, it’d make sense for raw fish served here to taste good.

With that thought, Heinrich realized something. It was true that sirens had been indulging in the raw fish, but the person who prepared the fish was undeniably human, even if he was from another world. Nekoya’s chef, the master, was a man proud of his cooking abilities. If he was behind the raw-fish dish, that meant he felt it was an excellent meal deserving of its price.

No, no. I mustn’t get ahead of myself. Faced with his own curiosity, Heinrich shook his head. The master did go out of his way to create a dish using that rotten-bean sauce for the elves. The raw fish is probably strictly for monster consumption.

The only people Henrich had seen willingly, happily eat those rotten-bean dishes were elves—the swordsman who visited during the daytime and the two females who frequented the restaurant with the human mage woman. He had just about convinced himself when the restaurant’s bell rang, heralding a loud pair of new visitors.

“Hey! We’re here!”

“Wow! Long time no see! How’ve you all been?”

Two deeply tanned children with pointy ears and curly hair appeared, pulling off their sandy hoods.

“We heard Grandma and Gramps say there was a door in the desert, so we decided to check in!”

“Could we get some water to start with? My throat’s super-duper dry.”

Heinrich watched as the two trotted over and sat near him. They’re…halflings. They were a species of travelers who forever looked like children. This particular couple, both cooks, were named Pikke and Pakke; they smiled at each other as they looked around the restaurant.

“Welcome! It has been a long time.” Aletta greeted them with a smile. “Here are your waters and moist hand towels.”

The halflings removed their capes, shaking sand off onto the floor.

“Thanks!”

“Yahoo! It never feels bad to get nice and clean.”

They gulped down their water, asking for more as they cleaned their faces and hands. Heaving satisfied sighs, the two prepared to fill their stomachs.

“It’s been a while. Let’s eat tons, Pakke!”

“Yeah! I want to pig out, Pikke!”

The halflings gazed around the restaurant and spotted two girls eating something that looked delicious.

“Ooh, I get it!” Pakke exclaimed. “This is the season for salmon. It’s scrumptious!”

“All right!” Pikke pointed at the girls’ meal, asking Aletta, “Can Pakke and I order that first?”

In the desert, it was easy to lose track of the seasons, but the halflings were quick on the uptake. They recognized that it was autumn simply from seeing the flaking pink fish meat.

The otherworldly fish called “salmon” was a guest favorite at Nekoya from fall to winter. It had a unique flavor compared to fish with bright-red or white flesh. The two halflings were well aware that, even raw, salmon was rich and delicious.

“Sure! Two orders of smoked-salmon carpaccio. Those’ll be right out.” Aletta took the halflings’ order and began the trek to the kitchen.

Heinrich stopped her. “Ah, sorry. Aletta, is it?”

“Yes?”

“I’d also like that carpaccio stuff.”

“Oh…yes, of course.”

When Heinrich heard the halflings, who seemed to have tried all kinds of dishes at Nekoya, describe the raw-fish dish as scrumptious, he’d decided to pull the trigger. If they thought so, it very well might be true, and at the very least the dish certainly wouldn’t be poisonous.

It wasn’t long before Aletta presented Henrich with a plate of bright-pink fish topped with sliced oranie, pure-white cheese, and a white sauce. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Here’s your smoked salmon and cream cheese carpaccio.”

So, it really is raw. Heinrich doubted himself slightly as he picked up his fork. Judging from its opacity, the fish was clearly uncooked. Still, he pressed ahead.

“Mmm, delish!” one halfling exclaimed.

“When it comes to fresh fish, you’ve just gotta order it raw! Well, this is smoked.”

Ignoring his loud neighbors, Heinrich stuck his fork into the fish and cheese, bringing some up to his mouth. The pink flesh was slightly translucent; the bright-white cheese would surely spoil within a day. He gulped in nervousness and excitement, then took a bite.

The second he tried the carpaccio, Heinrich sighed deep within his heart. Wow…this is really good!

The very first piece of raw fish he’d ever eaten had an entirely unique texture. It didn’t disintegrate as he chewed it, instead tearing slowly. Each time Heinrich bit into the flesh of the fish, oil oozed out. The carpaccio certainly had the scent of fish, but it lacked the unpleasant odor of old seafood. Instead, its aroma was full of the fresh, salt air of the sea.

The carpaccio’s combination of creamy cheese and fresh oranie brought out the fish’s meaty umami flavors. They both had a different sour flavor than the sauce on top, and it was powerfully bright, cutting through the fatty fish.

Then there was the incredible white sauce that united all the ingredients. Over his many visits to Nekoya, Heinrich had indulged in fried shrimp and oysters, so he quickly recognized the sauce he was dealing with. It didn’t contain minced eggs or herbs, but it was undeniably tartar sauce.

The tartar sauce contained a neutral oil and had a unique sour, eggy taste. It was the one topping you needed when eating seafood; apparently, that went for raw fish, too. This pairs really well with fresh fish.

“Aletta darlin’!” called a halfling. “Sorry, but could you bring us some bread? Not toasted!”

“As soon as possible, please! We’re gonna put this carpaccio between the slices.”

“I’d like some as well, Aletta.” Heinrich followed the lead of the loud voices next to him.

After biting into carpaccio squeezed between two slices of bread, Heinrich thought, I see. The pillowy, sweet bread paired magnificently with the delectable raw fish.

Heinrich had eaten an entire serving of fried shrimp before the carpaccio, yet the raw-fish dish in front of him vanished into his not-at-all-empty stomach in seconds.

Facing his empty plate, Heinrich thought, Oh, my. The other world never fails to amaze me. Since Nekoya could even prepare delicious raw fish, additional secret delights were surely still hidden within the menu.

Satisfied, Heinrich rose slowly from his chair, paid, and returned to his world.

Chapter 105: Hamburg Steak, Once More

Chapter 105:
Hamburg Steak, Once More

AT A CAFÉ in the shopping district, Yamagata Saki checked her resume one last time, ensuring there were no mistakes.

All right. Looking good, I think. She heaved a sigh and slid the resume into an envelope.

While Saki was preparing for her coming-of-age ceremony last week, Grandma Koyomi—who lived back home—had apparently put in a good word for her at the restaurant. If she was all right working in the hustle and bustle of a busy kitchen, she’d have the job.

It was Saturday morning, when the restaurant was closed. Saki was apparently going to be interviewed on their “break day.” Unless something went really wrong, however, she was sure to be hired.

My first part-time job, huh? Saki was raring to go.

A student’s job was studying—that was the promise she’d made to her father—so working part-time and letting her grades slip would be unacceptable. However, Saki had already earned all the credits she needed through her second year. Since she was now twenty, meaning she could take responsibility for her actions, her father had approved of her working at her uncle’s restaurant.

I should be okay. His restaurant seems pretty popular.

As a college student, Saki had lots of friends who worked. In high school, she’d even had a local friend who worked at her uncle’s restaurant. According to them, the pay was a bit low, but the free food was excellent—and employees got a discount at the bakery above the restaurant.

Her uncle’s place was a pretty old joint, so it wasn’t the kind of restaurant a young woman would go on a date or to hang out with friends. But apparently the food was good, so it was the perfect place for Saki to train, so to speak.She finished her soda, steeled herself, and stood.

Saki’s dream was to one day become a chef with her own restaurant. She’d loved cooking since she was a child. In elementary and junior high, she’d often cooked meals for her parents, who came home late from work. She liked trying new dishes, as well as figuring out ways to make old ones even more delicious. Thanks to her creativity and hard work, Saki had become quite a skilled cook.

When she was in junior high, her great-grandmother—who couldn’t cook—had come to live with the family. Meanwhile, Saki’s parents were giving her grocery money separate from her allowance, and she started shopping on her own. By the time she was a high schooler, she was making elaborate bento boxes for herself as well as her parents.

I need to work at a restaurant if I’m going to be a chef, she thought. That’s why she’d worked so hard to fulfill the tough conditions her father put in place for her—just to earn this part-time job.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Saki found herself getting quietly excited as she walked toward her destination. The restaurant was about three minutes on foot from the shopping-district café, in the first-floor basement of a shop with a small sign depicting a winged dog.

Saki read the words on the door. “Western Cuisine Nekoya.” That was the restaurant she was headed to. “So, this is Uncle’s restaurant. It’s just like Grandma Koyomi said.”

She’d heard about Nekoya’s appearance over and over from her great-grandmother; still, upon finally seeing it herself, she was moved. On the black door with a cat picture was a sign reading CLOSED FOR THE DAY. However, Saki sensed people behind the door, so her uncle was likely in.

“This should be the key,” she murmured.

Grandma Koyomi had come to see Saki at her coming-of-age ceremony, and she’d given her great-granddaughter the key to Nekoya’s front door. It would allow Saki entrance even when the restaurant was closed.

When she gave me the key, she said “You’ll probably be fine.” What did she mean? Saki wondered, unlocking and opening the door. “Excuse me! Sorry to—”

As the sound of a ringing bell filled the air, Saki stiffened. Er…isn’t the restaurant supposed to be closed today?

The aroma of all kinds of foods filled the brightly lit dining room. A number of guests were seated and enjoying their time in the restaurant. As Saki glanced around, it was crystal clear that Nekoya was open for business.

She soon noticed something. Huh? What’s with the fantasy getup?

There were guests wearing beautiful gowns, carrying swords on their backs, and dressed as if they were straight out of The Arabian Nights. Every single person wore clothes Saki had never before seen in real life, and the majority clearly weren’t Japanese.

Saki grasped at a suitable explanation. Did Uncle rent this place out for a cosplay party or something?

“Um…welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya.” The voice came from close by.

When Saki turned, she saw a high school-aged girl. She could tell from the girl’s facial features that she wasn’t Japanese. Her clearly natural-blonde hair was held back with an elastic, and there were black, hornlike hair ornaments near her ears. Saki thought she looked good with them, oddly enough. She wore a cat-patterned apron above a waitress uniform.

Saki thought the foreign girl must be one of her uncle’s employees; perhaps she was a study-abroad student at some college. “Uh, hi. Your Japanese is excellent. Oh, sorry…I’m not a customer.”

“Huh?”

Having determined that the puzzled girl definitely worked here, Saki explained the situation. “Um, I was told to come here on Saturday for an interview. Is Uncle…er, is the restaurant owner in?”

“Oh, um…please wait one moment,” the girl responded, cocking her head in thought. She went into the back of the restaurant, toward the kitchen, to relay Saki’s message.

Oh, thank goodness. Uncle’s here.

Before long, Saki’s uncle—the very one who always dropped by to say hello during New Year’s and other holidays—came out. Saki’s shoulders relaxed in relief.

“Saki?! Didn’t Grandma tell you anything?!” Her uncle was clearly befuddled. Apparently, Grandma Koyomi was supposed to have mentioned something to Saki—maybe it had to do with the restaurant’s busy state.

“Er…”

“Um, well, I’ll explain things later. For now, could you wait a minute? I’ll be free soon. In the meantime, have a bite. My treat. We serve pretty much everything here.” Saki’s uncle led her to a table, presenting her with some water and a warm, moist towel.

“Really?” Saki asked. “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” her uncle nodded. “Can’t have you just sitting here hungry in a restaurant!”

“All right. Let’s see…” Saki reflected. It was just the right time for an early lunch. And, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t too familiar with her uncle’s cooking. According to Grandma Koyomi, he was “Just as good as Daiki,” but Saki wasn’t actually familiar with her great-grandfather’s cooking, either.

I should order something that’ll clue me in to Uncle’s skills. So… After thinking for a moment, Saki settled on a meal. “I’ll take the hamburg steak with rice, please.”

Hamburg steak was the standard by which all Western cuisine was judged. When it came to that recipe, spotting differences in quality was quite easy.

“Got it. What would you like for the sauce?” Apparently, you could choose between different sauces at Nekoya.

“Um…could I have Japanese-style sauce with grated daikon?” That was Saki’s favorite.

“No problem. Are you fine with shiso leaves?”

“Yeah. Thank you!”

“Okay. That’ll be right out, Miss.” Her uncle replied like a pro, retreating to the kitchen.

After watching him leave, the waitress nodded at Saki. “Please take your time and relax, um, Miss.” She went to take other orders.

Saki looked around as she waited. The restaurant was clearly old, but it was clean, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The customers still stood out to Saki, though. There sure are a lot of strange diners here. They’re all speaking Japanese, but none of them look Japanese at all. And where would they even buy clothes like that?

Some customers were entirely focused on eating their meals. Others sat with friends or acquaintances and picked at their food while conversing. That sort of thing wasn’t uncommon in restaurants, but the fact that nobody speaking Japanese looked or dressed like a Japanese person was very unusual.

Grandma Koyomi did say “The restaurant’s a little odd, but it’s pretty great, too.” Saki sipped the lemon water the waitress brought her, wondering what kind of restaurant Nekoya was. She was a little unnerved.

At that point, her food arrived. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Saki’s uncle said. “Here’s your Japanese-style hamburg steak with grated daikon sauce.”

The sizzling hamburg steak’s aroma struck Saki’s stomach directly. Freshly julienned shiso sat atop the steak. The sauce, which consisted of ponzu and grated daikon, dripped onto the metal plate, where it sizzled. Watching it made Saki even hungrier.

Alongside the hamburg steak were the traditional side dishes—french fries, sautéed green peas, and glazed carrots. Bowls of rice and miso soup sat close by, and the steam rising from both also made Saki ravenous.

“Enjoy,” her uncle added. “I should be free once the omelets finish cooking, so just hang in there.” He returned to the kitchen.

Omelets? Well…whatever. Her uncle had his own stuff going on. With that in mind, Saki quickly put her hands together. “Thanks for the meal!” Her friends often joked about it, but Saki didn’t feel comfortable eating until she’d said that.

She reached for her chopsticks.

***

When Saki’s parents were busy, Grandma Koyomi had taken care of her. She’d taught her great-granddaughter one thing in particular—when someone made you food, you had to eat it when it was most delicious.

Grandma Koyomi had never been a regular in the kitchen, but she’d always eaten whatever Saki cooked, even when the dish was a total failure. Grandma Koyomi loved eating as much as Saki loved cooking, even if the girl wasn’t great at it yet. It helped that Grandma Koyomi never disguised her opinions, since that helped Saki hone her skill.

***

Saki started by stretching out her chopsticks and poking a bit of hamburg steak with no sauce. It was exciting to see her chopsticks push into the thick steak. “Wow! It’s so tender.” It wasn’t the sticky softness of overcooked ground meat but the tenderness that came from proper handling.

She cut a piece of hamburg steak with her chopsticks, watching as juice poured from the cut; the ground meat was perfectly cooked through. Satisfied with everything, Saki brought the piece of hamburg steak to her mouth.

Ah…this is delicious.

The tasty hamburg steak was likely made with the absolute basics—ground beef and pork, salt, and pepper. Saki could taste the meat and its juices, and its fall-apart texture lingered in her mouth. This hamburg steak wasn’t new or innovative, but her uncle had done a damn good job.

With the meat’s aftertaste still strong, Saki took a bite of rice and a sip of miso soup. They’re great, too! She was pleased. Most restaurants were cursed with slightly old rice, but this was the good stuff—super fresh. The grains were intact and not too sticky. The miso soup stock was clearly made of bonito and kombu, and none of the ingredients were overcooked.

Since entering college, Saki had spent part of her allowance trying foods from all over. Still, she found herself already fond of Western Cuisine Nekoya. It was the type of place that had food good enough that she’d be a regular—if the hamburg steak set was this tasty, everything else was probably delicious as well. She decided to make a point of coming back as a guest.

Next up… She cut a piece of hamburg steak with lots of sauce and ate it.

Each time she chewed, the moist shredded daikon gave a delicate crunch; it gave the whole dish a slight bitterness, complementing the sour ponzu and salty soy sauce. The sauce was unusually savory—she could tell her uncle had mixed in some stock. As Saki put another thick piece of hamburg steak in her mouth, the shiso’s flavor was also refreshing.

Yeah, this goes great with rice.

Breaking the steak with her chopsticks, eating rice, drinking miso soup, and following up with more steak—that cycle repeated over and over, turning Saki into a customer enjoying her meal. Soon she forgot all about working at the restaurant and about Nekoya’s odd guests.

“Excuse me. Are there refills on rice?”

“Yes, of course. Rice and bread are all-you-can-eat. Want me to refill your soup as well?”

“That’d be amazing.” Saki nodded, smiling at the waitress as she handed the girl her dishes.

As she enjoyed the rest of her steak with fresh rice and miso soup, Saki quietly decided that this was the place to improve her culinary skills. Yeah, I like this restaurant, she thought. Not just because it’s Uncle’s, either. If I’m going to work somewhere, I want it to be here.

Shortly thereafter, she saw the guests who visited Nekoya specifically for omelet rice and quickly learned what sort of restaurant it really was.

Chapter 106: Candied Sweet Potatoes

Chapter 106:
Candied Sweet Potatoes

DEEP WITHIN THE WOODS of the Western Continent, Selena opened her eyes for the first time in a while, feeling her skin burn. The sensation reached down to her bones.

Hrm…something happened. Standing up, she rubbed her white, oddly unburned arm.

Selena had become one with this forest, sharing its life force and extending her own life for all eternity. To her, the forest was her life. As long as it existed, Selena would never die of old age. If the forest disappeared, however, she’d have no way to prolong her own life.

Thus, Selena had sent dozens of wood golems into the forest to preserve it, just in case. The golems felled and replaced rotting trees. They also pruned leaves blocking the sunlight, so the sun could hit flowers blooming on the ground. When cloudless weather persisted, they watered the flowers and pulled out dried grass, leaving only healthy patches.

As long as this forest existed, the magical power sustaining the golems would keep them alive forever—like Selena—tending the foliage eternally without complaint. However, there were things even the wood golems couldn’t handle—storms, fires, dragons, or monsters razing the area.

Selena felt any damage to the forest as physical pain, so when necessary, she stopped meditating and dealt with such problems herself. She’d turn the power she gained from the forest into strong ancient magic, which she used to protect it.

***

When Selena arrived at the source of the problem, she found everything ablaze. The trees, grass, and flowers burned bright red. Racked with burning pain all over her body, Selena calmly deduced what had transpired. “This is a forest fire.”

Something like lightning had probably struck and ignited the woods. If I let my golems deal with this, I’ll lose about half of them, Selena thought. Upon further inspection, a few wood golems bringing spring water to stop the fire were already burned.

At this point, Selena had lived in the forest for three thousand years, and she’d only dealt with a fire this size five or six times. On the other hand, that meant she’d put out fires this size five or six times.

“Now, time to end this,” she said, deciding to fight the fire.

She tried to summon nearby rain clouds but soon realized there weren’t any. I see. Now that I think about it, it hasn’t rained around here lately.

“Well, fine. That means…” Instead of panicking, Selena cast a spell to extinguish the fire. Instantly, the air froze, and the fires nearby faded out of existence.

Hrmph. Problem solved.

She’d used a wide-range spell that changed the flow of the air, sucking it away from specific spots and suffocating them. That spell had initially been designed to annihilate powerful giants that couldn’t wield magic, as well as followers of the Ancient Six on the Southern Continent who couldn’t transform into dragons. Selena only realized years into her life in the forest that, apparently, fires required air to burn. Since then, she’d used that spell to put them out.

Selena cast defensive spells on herself, enabling herself to stand amid the flames without burning and breathe even as her magic suffocated the area.

Eventually, she reached the center of the forest fire and extinguished it. She looked sadly at the giant tree the fire had reduced to ashes. Another elder, gone.

Trees that had lived over a thousand years weren’t common in this forest. Most of the trees she’d cared for in her three millennia were young. They’d finish their lives, and wood golems would cut them down to build new wood golems or simply to make space for the next generation of young trees.

There’d only been a handful of old-growth trees from when Selena moved to the forest, and now one had burned to ashes.

Well, what’s done is done, I suppose. Selena pushed away her sorrow, turning to make her way home to a giant tree in the center of the woods—another tree that had lived for millennia. However, today she noticed something. Hm…?

Near the charred trees was another black object. Unlike the matte blackness of the burned wood, this smooth black surface bore an illustration of a cat.

“Ah. Today’s the Day of Satur, then.” The destruction from the fire had likely changed the flow of magic in the forest.

Selena placed her hand on the second door to appear in this forest—she’d been through the first before, of course. If I’m not mistaken, sweet red-bean soup is out of season now.

Fondly remembering the soup’s warm, sweet flavor, Selena found herself rather morose. There was still a whole month before the new year, and the master had told her he only offered that soup at the turning of the year; he probably wasn’t serving it now.

Well, that’s fine. He must have something. I know he serves some truly odd dishes.

With that thought, Selena opened the door. As she walked through it into the Restaurant to Another World, the sound of the bell ringing signaled her arrival.

***

Looking toward the ringing bell, Fardania gasped. Huh? Um…she is an elf, right?

A ghostly female elf had quietly stepped through the door. She had straight, jet-black hair and white, cloud-like skin. She wore a Western Continent robe that was clean as a whistle, and she had long, pointy ears.

Alice followed Fardania’s gaze. Seeing the woman, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow, she’s so beautiful!”

Her magical power’s tremendous. That stunned Fardania. When it came to magic, elves were naturally gifted, but this was far beyond that. (Alice had only learned a little magic from Fardania, so she hadn’t noticed.) In fact, Fardania reflected, it was entirely possible that this woman had more magic than the most powerful monster, one Fardania had never encountered—a dragon.

As strong as the woman’s magic was, it was also so refined that even Fardania’s discerning eyes couldn’t guess at her age. I know this place gets some bizarre visitors, but…

***

Fardania’s visit to Nekoya started when a human mage she’d recently befriended asked her to house-sit. The mage was leaving for about a month because a certain medicinal ingredient on the ocean floor was only available this time of the year. They wanted Fardania to hold down the fort while they were gone. As long as she entertained any potential guests and cleaned, she was free to use the house as she liked.

So, as far as Fardania was concerned, this was a great opportunity. She’d been wanting to research the blessings of the sea, and a long journey with Alice—who was still only a thirty-year-old girl—would prove difficult. So, Fardania agreed, and she and Alice settled in.

Alice wanted to visit the otherworldly restaurant once a week, so Fardania had begrudgingly agreed to take her.

***

The raven-haired elf—Selena—had likely noticed Fardania goggling at her. She stared back at Fardania and Alice. “Young lady, do you have business with me?”

“N-no, not at all.” Fardania shrank into herself as the woman’s aura overwhelmed her, averting her gaze.

“Hmm. I see.” Selena also turned away, sitting down in a random seat.

“Welcome! Oh, wow—I didn’t expect to see you again so soon! Sorry, but we aren’t serving red-bean soup yet.” The restaurant’s master himself apologetically explained the situation to Selena, rather than the demon girl who’d been there last time she visited.

“Mmm. I know. That’s unfortunate, but it is what it is.” She was aware that she was early. Only thirty years ago, the previous master—whom Selena hadn’t seen around lately—had explained that the restaurant only served red-bean soup on the first Day of Satur of the year. Yet she also believed this restaurant, with its diverse customers, would have a dish she’d enjoy. “I find myself wondering if you serve something else sweet. And, if possible, warm.”

“Let’s see…” The master mentally flipped through Nekoya’s dishes.

Selena wanted something warm and sweet: Pancakes fit the bill, but there was something else important. The customer in front of him was an elf. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to religion or allergies, but elves despised foods that included animal products; he’d have to serve Selena something made only with plant ingredients.

“I know!” the master exclaimed.

He considered whether the dish he’d thought of would suit Selena. It was something the previous master had put on the menu; he didn’t offer it currently, but he was confident that he could cook it well.

“How about candied sweet potatoes?” the master suggested. “They’ll take a while to prepare, but if you’re okay with that…”

“I shall order those,” Selena nodded. She wasn’t familiar with candied sweet potatoes. However, the master wasn’t just better at cooking than her, he knew far more about food than she did.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what he makes,” Selena said to herself. Something sweet and warm, without the scent of beasts.

Despite feeling the elf girl from before gazing at her again, Selena waited patiently. Her hunger and curiosity were building, but she typically spent most of the year in thought and meditation, so waiting wasn’t something she struggled with.

Eventually, the waitress brought out Selena’s food. “Sorry these took a while. Here are your candied sweet potatoes!” She presented the dish.

“Oh. These are… I see. ‘Sweet potatoes’ are kumaala.”

Selena looked nostalgically at the orange skin with black specks enveloping the vegetable’s yellow flesh. Sweet potatoes greatly resembled a vegetable eaten in the part of the Western Continent ruled by followers of Chaos.

The dish touched on a memory. It was distant; Selena had lived dozens of times longer than average, after all. I was still so young back then.

After concluding her pursuits in the capital city, Selena had journeyed to the Southern Continent. At the time, she’d planned to study the immortal Chaos and its dragon followers so she could complete her immortality spell. She was already considered a genius by her peers, but even for Selena, that journey was fraught with danger. She’d nearly died several times. Fortunately, people on the Southern Continent were pursuing knowledge and making more and more discoveries.

That Altrude fellow liked these, if I remember correctly.

Selena’s elven cohort Altrude had been fond of kumaala and had often brought large quantities of the plants back from the Southern Continent. He grew them in a nursery he’d created, using magic to reproduce the environment in the South. Selena specifically remembered Altrude smiling over how the kumaala had a different sweetness from dried fruit.

How time flies. Altrude had long since passed away. As far as Selena was concerned, he was fortunate he hadn’t turned into a lich. At the same time, it made her sad that someone she knew had passed on.

After indulging in this brief bout of nostalgia, Selena turned back to the candied sweet potatoes. I should start eating these. It would be a waste to just let the dish sit.

Selena took up her chopsticks and cut a large piece of sweet potato. She gently brought it to her mouth; brown, sticky honey dripped onto her plate. The warm kumaala’s sweet aroma made her stomach growl.

I can’t hold back anymore. With that thought, Selena took a bite. Oh…this isn’t just sweet.

She let the sweet potato roll around her mouth, appreciating its flavor and scent. It tasted like sugar and fragrant, black-flecked kumaala skin. Between those two flavors, Selena also tasted something else. The salty, slightly familiar flavor likely wasn’t sweet naturally, but it brought out the candied kumaala’s sweetness.

Biting into the sweet potatoes, Selena encountered a wonderful texture—a combination of crystallized honey and the firm, dry skin of the kumaala. Mmm. Chewing feels lovely, she thought. So, this is kumaala.

Eventually, the delicate candied sweet potatoes broke into pieces in her mouth, leaving behind a mixture of the kumaala’s slight sweetness and the syrupy honey. The sugary, salty crystallized honey and the tender kumaala—when these two combined, the dish became something completely new.

“Delicious,” she whispered, putting the whole sensation into a single word. Red-bean soup was delectable, but this was equally good. “Now I’m really looking forward to the new year.” On her next visit, she’d order red-bean soup and candied sweet potatoes.

As Selena quietly enjoyed her meal, the two elven girls watching from nearby got excited.

“Excuse me!” one called. “Can I order that candied sweet potato stuff?!”

“Those look delish! I want some, too!”

Chapter 107: Foil-Roasted Salmon

Chapter 107:
Foil-Roasted Salmon

SATURDAY WAS WHEN Western Cuisine Nekoya transformed into the Restaurant to Another World. This Saturday was also Meat Day.

“Now, what should I do today?” The master was lost in thought, as he always was on this day. As the delicious scent of boiling soup wafted past his nose, he pondered an extremely important issue—what daily special would he serve for Meat Day?

He had to pick a dish that was cheaper than usual and paired well with pork soup. Meat on top of meat might be a little too much. But the guests usually enjoy Western dishes, so… All right, how about a foil roast?

Salmon was delicious this time of year. Thinking it over a bit, the master hit upon the day’s dish. That settled, he prepared to open the restaurant.

***

Ellen, a woodcutter’s wife, lived in the countryside of a small nation in the Eastern Continent’s northern region. In the evening, around sunset, she got an unexpected—perhaps unwelcome—visitor.

Ellen and her husband Herman looked at their “guest” as they sat by their furnace. In this small cottage, cold air came in even with the windows closed.

“So, then, what’s yer plan?” Ellen demanded.

Herman was also displeased. “Aye. What’s the deal?”

“Is this really somewhere humans live?” the guest asked. “Not a storage closet?”

The boy sitting by the fire looked closed to Kai’s age. He wore expensive clothes and had a stunning short sword at his waist. Kai and Bona, knowing very little about differences in status at their age, were picking childish fights with the visitor.

“O-of course! Our house is totally normal!”

“Yeah! Stop being so mean and stupid!”

It was terrible for Ellen’s heart. “Seriously, what do we do?” she asked her husband.

Around noon, Herman had found the boy resting against a tree in the woods where Herman was cutting wood; he’d introduced himself as Klaus. He was probably the son of some wealthy family from the town where Herman sold firewood. In other words, Klaus’s home was likely about as far removed from this little cottage as humanly possible.

Leaving the child in the woods would’ve been unthinkable, so Herman had brought him home.

“Beats me,” he told his wife. “He’s probably got aides looking for him. If we just keep him here, it’ll be fine.”

In the meantime, Klaus—who’d been dealing with Bona and Kai—suddenly seemed to remember his hunger. “Hey, Herman. I’m famished. Prepare something to eat!”

Herman and Ellen exchanged looks, whispering back and forth.

“What’re we gonna do?!” Ellen hissed. “Who knows what the lad’ll say if he’s served what we usually eat?!”

“Th-that’s true. But it’s not as though I can just head to town and grab something right now!”

Although they didn’t know where Klaus was from, he undoubtedly lived a more aristocratic life than Herman’s family. Of course, that meant he must eat incredible meals, not eggs every day. There was no way hard bread or saltwater soup with stewed meat would satisfy the boy.

“Something to eat? It’s almost winter. We probably ain’t got anythin’ good,” Kai said, not noticing his parents’ struggle.

“Really?”

“Yup. Dad’s axe is all beat up, so he said we gotta be egonomical!” Bona explained the family’s financial situation proudly to the surprised Klaus.

Ellen reddened at her children’s innocent words. Hey! Don’t spill the beans! She’d scold them properly later. Fortunately for the despairing housewife, the next words spoken by her children offered a light at the end of the tunnel.

“We ain’t been to Nekoya in ages!” exclaimed Kai.

“Right!” Bona agreed. “The door’s out today, and we can’t even go!”

The unfamiliar name puzzled Klaus. “Nekoya? What’s that?” he asked. Ellen and her husband again turned to each other.

“Nekoya’s a restaurant that serves food from far, far away, Lord Klaus,” the woman said.

“And, um, for some reason, a door in our barn leads there,” the woodcutter added. “I know! Since you’re here and all, why don’t we eat at Nekoya?” He turned to Ellen. “You’re fine with that, aren’t you?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

They exchanged words awkwardly, preparing to spend an arm and a leg as they decided to eat a late lunch at the Restaurant to Another World. Still, lots of Nekoya’s guests were aristocrats, and the master often served dishes with gourmet ingredients. If nothing else, Klaus would feel more satisfied eating at Nekoya than eating Ellen’s cooking.

“All right. Lead the way!” Klaus exclaimed.

“Of course!” Herman replied. “Um…I’m sorry, but it’s not the kind of place we can wear work clothes. Could you wait a moment?”

“Fine. Be quick.”

The couple nodded, changing rapidly into their best clothes before helping their children dress up, too. Kai and Bona cooperated gladly, delighted with their parents’ decision.

“Huh?! We’re having lunch at Nekoya?!”

“Really?! Awesome!”

“Listen, you two, you’ve got to keep it down today, got it?” Ellen said desperately. She got her children changed quickly, and they led Klaus to the barn.

***

Klaus was the third prince of his nation. He’d been whisked away to the backwater countryside of another small country so that he wouldn’t get caught up in a succession war with his elder brothers.

Led by a family that could only be politely described as “of modest means,” Klaus stepped through an incongruous black door, finding himself in a mysterious space. The door’s bell rang, and the prince couldn’t help widening his eyes in shock. My word! To think this place really exists…!

There wasn’t any natural light, but the restaurant was brighter and warmer than the cottage Klaus had been in, which had its windows closed to prevent the cold from getting in. A number of tables and chairs were arranged inside, at which sat all manner of customers.

Although Klaus was born and raised in a small country, he’d been educated by an excellent tutor and a well-stocked library. He knew a fair amount about the world, yet the guests here still surprised him.

A lizardman, a lamia, imperial nobility… That’s a high priest of the Lord of Light. That’s an elf… What is this place

“Right this way, Lord Klaus.” The commoners in front of the prince encouraged him.

“All right.” Klaus sat politely at an open table. He was a tad surprised that the commoners sat with him. Considering that they’d saved his life, though, he understood—even at his young age. He decided not to say a word.

“Welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya! May I take your order?” The demon waitress had brought expensive-looking glasses full of cold water.

The young lady’s horns surprised Klaus. The waitress here is a demon?! I heard they weren’t uncommon in the Empire, but… He somehow kept calm, nodding uncertainly at the commoner couple. “I don’t know what kind of food this restaurant offers. I’ll leave the ordering to you.”

“Five daily specials, please,” Ellen rapped out. Although it was the cheapest thing on Nekoya’s menu, even the daily special was delicious; it’d probably be fine for Klaus.

“Five daily specials. Today, we’re serving a foil-roasted fish called salmon. Is that all right?” the waitress asked. “Today is also Meat Day. What would you like to do for your soup?”

Klaus watched smiles come over the faces of the family when they heard the waitress’s words. Scrutinizing the excited children’s dimples and older couple’s grins, Klaus wondered, Did something special happen?

“We’ll all have pork soup, of course,” Ellen replied. “And bread.”

“As soon as possible, please!” Herman added.

“That’ll be right out.” The waitress nodded and went into the kitchen.

“What’s this ‘pork soup’?’” Klaus asked curiously.

The children answered, grinning.

“It’s a soup they only serve sometimes here! It’s got tons of meat and veggies.”

“We can eat as much as we want, so we always have a whole bunch!”

“I see. Then I look forward to this soup.” In his own way, Klaus was excited, though also a tad concerned. “Now then, what’s this foil-roasted fish?”

“No clue.”

“We’ve probably never eaten it, since it’s the daily special.”

“Oh…?”

The waitress eventually came back with their food in hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She didn’t realize how nervous Klaus felt. “Here’s today’s special: foil-roasted salmon, bread, and pork soup.”

She set the family’s food on their table. The dark soup’s fatty pork and seemingly endless vegetables looked overwhelming. The bread reflected the ceiling lights off its shiny top; it had clearly just been baked. Arranged on the pure-white plate in front of Klaus were slices of yellow fruit and a silver ball. Klaus found it all very mysterious.

“This silver stuff isn’t edible. Please peel it off before eating,” the waitress kindly explained, beginning to pull off the silver. The material was thin and papery; it looked easy to remove. “Oh—the master said that either lemon juice or soy sauce pair well with foil-roasted salmon,” she added. “Give them a try, if you like. Take your time and enjoy!”

As the waitress pulled off the silver wrapper, the rich dairy scent of butter filled the air around Klaus. He gulped involuntarily. Inside the silver ball were shredded oranie and karoot. Atop those were mashruums and a slice of fish with pink flesh and silver skin—a type Klaus had never seen.

Klaus was quietly surprised by the fish, which looked altogether different from the river fish he was used to. Is that an ocean fish from this region…?

His nation was far from the sea, so ocean fish were an extreme luxury—especially those with red flesh, since their fattiness meant they spoiled quickly. Transporting those fish required magic, so even palace residents rarely got to eat them.

As they faced their plates of daily specials, the family clearly wanted to dig in but did their best to hold back so that their guest might eat first. Kai and Bona reached for their plates, only for their mother to swat their hands away.

Seeing this, Klaus collected himself. “Don’t mind me.”

He picked up his knife and fork, cutting a big piece of fish and putting a bite on his fork with some oranie. Golden butter dripped onto his plate as he raised his fork; the clean fish scent wafted to his nose. Enjoying the aroma, Klaus brought the bite to his mouth.

“Delicious,” he blurted.

The fatty fish was tasty and luscious, just as it had looked. It was neither overcooked nor raw; it had been roasted to perfection, allowing it to stay moist and tender. It lacked the putrid scent of fish on the verge of rot, yet its savory quality—underscored by the butter—differed from normal meat.

I never thought fish and butter would pair so well, Klaus mused. That’s thanks to the fat.

The salmon and butter contained different kinds of fat, but each enhanced the other. The butter’s slightly salty flavor made Klaus want to eat more, and the pink salmon satisfied that desire.The oranie, karoot, and mashruums cooked alongside the foil-roasted fish were delicious in their own right. Each had absorbed the essence of the fish and butter, giving them a wholly unique flavor.

I see—the side vegetables keep you from missing out on any of the salmon’s flavor! Klaus realized.

Having fully appreciated the plain salmon, he recalled the waitress’s instructions. Come to think of it, she said to eat this with lemon juice and soy sauce. “Lemon” must mean the yellow fruit slices; the soy sauce was likely in one of the bottles lined up on the table.

“Excuse me, which of these is soy sauce?” he asked the commoner family as they dug into their bread and soup.

“Ah…this blue bottle.” The only family member to respond was Ellen, but Klaus didn’t care in the slightest; he was also awestruck by the meal in front of them.

“Hrm.” He squeezed some juice from the lemon, then grabbed the blue bottle and gingerly poured some soy sauce onto the food.The black liquid that came out concerned the boy slightly. That doesn’t look particularly appetizing.

Nonetheless, he took a bite of the fish, and his eyes widened. Madness! These were necessary all along! The sour lemon made the salmon nice and tangy, and the salty black sauce brought its savory flavor out. If Klaus messed up how much of either condiment he added, the dish would likely suffer. As long as he was careful, however, they’d produce completely different but wonderful flavors.

“That was delightful.” Klaus sighed in satisfaction as he polished off the foil-roasted fish. In fact, he was so satisfied that he hadn’t yet touched the pork soup that came with salmon.

When he did reach out to sample it, he was once again stunned. How can this be?! This soup is incredible! It was full of vegetables and fatty pork enveloped by the unique scent of butter. The soup was so amazing that it completely measured up to the fish he’d thought incomparable moments ago.

Even the white bread was pillow soft, with a hint of sweetness. It was an out-of-this-world, delectable, truly top-quality loaf. This bread’s something else, too. How could someone possibly make a meal this good?! Klaus was so astonished by the soup and bread that he seemed to forget the commoner family’s presence.

Herman spoke up in a booming voice. “Seconds on bread and soup, please! I need some more,” he called to the waitress.

The rest of the family jumped in.

“Ah—me too!”

“Same!”

“Me as well!”

In a voice surely louder than proper for an aristocrat, Klaus also called, as if rushed by his companions’ requests. “M-me too, please!”

Despite being a bit far away, the waitress responded energetically. “Of course! Right away!”

***

Klaus and the commoner family returned home and relaxed until one of Klaus’s guards finally stopped by and found him. The harried guard came in ready to draw his sword on the boy’s unfortunate rescuers; thankfully, Klaus’s intervention settled things without anyone getting hurt. As the prince prepared to return to his new home in town, he turned to the family once more.

“You have my gratitude, Herman, Ellen,” Klaus said.

“No, no. It was nothing.”

“No, absolutely nothing!”

He smiled at the couple as they prostrated themselves before him, then informed them of his intentions. “I’ll send a token of my thanks at a later date.”

Herman was astounded when—not long after—a beautiful, brand-new axe made its way into his hands.

Chapter 108: Shrimp Doria

Chapter 108:
Shrimp Doria

THE ALFADE COMPANY had been established in the Kingdom, the largest nation on the Eastern Continent. Its history technically reached back centuries; only in the last few decades, though, had it become the juggernaut it was now. Before then, it’d only been a small business buying and selling flour in a corner of the Kingdom.

The last head of the company, Thomas Alfade, had been a genius. It wasn’t long before he grew the enterprise into one of the largest of its kind in the Kingdom.

Thomas Alfade’s second son and eldest daughter were shrewd individuals who fought to be the family’s next leader. When Alfade decided to retire, he hatched a plan to ensure his children wouldn’t fight over the company when he passed it on to his eldest son. He used his deep pockets to create Alfade Company branches in the capitals of the Duchy and the Empire. By handing the branches off to his eldest daughter and younger son, he diplomatically excised them from the company’s main branch in the Kingdom.

And so, the Alfade Company—which, at one time, had only a single branch in the Kingdom—now had branches in the Duchy, with its long history and strong traditions, and the Empire, which was growing at tremendous speed. Just like that, Thomas Alfade safeguarded the business and decided its future…at the cost of a fierce rivalry between the three branches.

“My Alfade Company is the true Alfade Company,” each sibling declared.

Now, the Alfade Company’s imperial branch approached a major turning point.

***

Although aristocrats made up only a small portion of the Empire’s population, this little tale begins in a foreign embassy in the aristocratic quarter, where blue bloods from another nation gathered. The scent of expensive spices wafted through the air of the mansion. The next head of the Alfade Company’s imperial branch, Linda Alfade, had been ordered here by her mother.

“C-cook a rice dish, you say?” Linda couldn’t help repeating the words back to the ambassador.

The ambassador, a brown-skinned visitor from a desert nation far off on the Western Continent, nodded. “Correct. This is one of our nation’s most guarded secrets, but soon Crown Prince Shareef will visit the capital.”

The ambassador’s voice and expression were stiff and serious. Linda couldn’t help straightening up her own posture as she awaited further explanation. Massive talks were going on between the Sand Nation and the Empire, and it was no exaggeration to say the talks would determine both nations’ futures. That was simply too much for a single ambassador to handle.

Thus, the crown prince would come to the Empire, representing the Sand Nation’s king and negotiating directly with the Emperor himself.

“Lord Shareef will stay at the imperial palace, eating imperial cuisine,” the ambassador continued. “However, he’ll likely tire of eating this nation’s food. And it will bother him that it’s cold here in the Empire, even during the day. It would be difficult for anyone from the Sand Nation. Thus…”

“You’d like to prepare meals that remind him of his homeland,” said Linda. It was clear to her what the ambassador was asking. She’d be the next head of this branch of the Alfade Company, and her mother was a confident, powerful merchant, despite being a woman.

“Correct. I heard that you’re familiar with the Ocean Nation’s cuisine, so I imagined that perhaps you could replicate my own nation’s recipes. It’d be fastest if I just brought Sand Nation chefs here, but…” The ambassador trailed off. Then he refocused and rang the bell he carried, shouting, “Aisha! Come here!”

A moment later, a young girl quietly entered with a butler who appeared to be from the Empire. The girl—probably the ambassador’s young daughter—was likely a few years Linda’s junior. She wore an imperial-style white dress, layered to keep her warm during winter. However, her pitch-black hair and eyes, and her brown skin, made it clear that she was a citizen of the Sand Nation.

Hmm, she’s quite stunning, Linda thought.

“Aisha, I’d like you to show our guest the place we discussed. Today’s the day, correct?”

“Yes, today’s the Day of Satur, Father.” After she and her father finished their completely incomprehensible back-and-forth, Aisha turned to Linda. “Would you care to join me for a meal? I’d like to give you an overview of what sort of food we hope you’ll prepare for Lord Shareef.”

Linda sensed something mysterious in the girl’s words. “O-of course. I’d love to.”

“Excellent.” Aisha nodded happily, then told the butler next to her, “Alfred, we’re heading out.”

“Wonderful, My Lady.”

“Please follow me, Linda.”

“All right.”

And so, alongside Aisha, Linda departed the mansion.

***

Linda walked along, exhaling cold white puffs of air. “Are you all right, Lady Aisha? Aren’t you cold?” she asked the young lady, who walked next to her with her butler.

It was autumn, and the Empire was in the Eastern Continent’s northern region, which meant the weather was rather cold. For someone who lived in the Sand Nation, which was hot all year long, it would be uncomfortable.

Aisha shrugged in her white fur coat. “I’m fine. I’ve lived here over a year now, so I’m quite used to it.” She was in fact used to the walk in all weather, as she’d spent the year visiting their destination time and time again.

They reached the narrow alleyway. Slightly relieved to see the black door standing closed (and not currently in use by the halflings), Aisha turned to Linda. “We’ve arrived.”

Linda couldn’t help staring at the mysterious door in the middle of the alley. “Why is there a door there?”

“Let’s be on our way. First, before I explain what’d be best, I’d like you to try the recipes.”

Alfred opened the door for the women, and Aisha took Linda’s hand and passed through. The gentle sound of the restaurant’s bell filled the air as the trio entered, and the door shut behind them.

Entering the room, Linda felt the air around her grow warm. She turned, looking at the monsters and humans sitting around eating meals. “Um…Lady Aisha, where are we?”

“A diner, of course. Of the otherworldly sort.”

“O-otherworldly sort?”

“Correct.” Aisha smiled, recalling when she’d first brought her father here. “This restaurant exists in a world entirely different from our own. I’d like you to try their food to help you choose what to cook for the prince.”

As the pair conversed, the waitress noticed their arrival and greeted them. “Welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya. I’ll seat you. Would you like me to take your coats?” The two wore heavy winter jackets not suited to dining.

“That’d be lovely,” Aisha replied.

“Right. Of course.” Finding herself quietly surprised, Linda handed the waitress her coat. Judging from the black horns coming out of the girl’s shining blonde hair, she was certainly a demon. You don’t see such clean, pretty demons often. Not even in their own capital.

For a time, on her mother’s orders, Linda had traveled through most of the Eastern Continent’s major cities. From that experience, she knew the girl in front of her was extremely atypical.

Seeing demon folk in the Empire wasn’t particularly rare; they’d helped pave the way for the nation long, long ago. In fact, the demon king’s bloodline ruled the nation’s second-largest city in the Emperor’s stead. More demons than humans lived in that demonic capital. Still, this was the first time Linda ever saw a demon girl as well-kept and tidy as the blue bloods of the royal capital.

Her clothes…they’re odd. Still, the fabric quality’s almost too good. Indeed, the waitress wore a rather mysterious outfit, its design far removed from what Linda was familiar with. If Aisha was to be believed, the clothes were from another world.

The clothes looked so fine, you’d be forgiven for thinking them brand new. They were seemingly made from excellent cotton, and the cloth was skillfully sewn, the seams so neat and even that it was actually unnatural. The apparel would normally cost a commoner at least a year’s pay, yet here was this demon waitress wearing it.

“Come right this way,” said the waitress.

Thinking that the restaurant’s master must be quite eccentric, Linda followed Aisha to their table and sat down. Next to them, what looked like a young noblewoman from the Sand Nation was waiting for someone. She was drinking a cup of what appeared to be cafa, a black tea citizens of the Sand Nation enjoyed. Some kind of white stuff floated in it.

“Would you like me to bring menus?” the waitress asked.

“No, it’s fine. I think I have my heart set on shrimp doria today. Could I get three servings, please? Oh—and we might order more later, just to let you know.” Aisha quickly finished ordering while Linda was still stuck in thought. There was no way Linda could’ve been familiar with the cuisine at the restaurant, let alone the otherworldly dishes the crown prince would want prepared.

“Wonderful. I’ll be right back.” The waitress retreated to the back—where the kitchen presumably was—to delivered Aisha’s order.

“So, is shrimp doria a rice dish?” Linda asked. She’d been asked to make a dish using rice, so—connecting the dots—it seemed likely that being invited here meant the restaurant served such a dish.

Aisha nodded in response. “Mm-hmm. It’s also a recipe that I believe you should be able to make well, although it’s not served in the imperial capital.”

The pair exchanged casual chitchat until the waitress returned with their food. “Sorry for the wait. Here’s your shrimp doria.”

She placed the food carefully on the table before them; it was clear she’d been doing this for a while. It was also obvious that the shrimp doria, which sizzled on its thick ceramic platter, was fresh out of the oven. Beneath its toasted brown surface, slightly golden white things hid something pink.

Wait…could that be cheese and knight sauce? Knight sauce was the very reason the Alfade Company had been able to build its current wealth. It paired well with the Empire’s omnipresent cobbler’s tubers, so the sauce was linked strongly to the success of the company’s imperial branch. Knight sauce had spread throughout the Empire, but the Alfade Company was still the very best at utilizing it; it seemed clear that this was why they’d been chosen to prepare meals for the crown prince. We could most definitely handle this dish.

Quickly identifying every ingredient but the pink blobs, Linda took a bite—and was rendered speechless. No way! What the…?

The flavor was half what she’d anticipated, while at the same time greatly surpassing her expectations. Atop the aromatic melted cheese and slightly sweet knight sauce lay a bed of the same type of breadcrumbs used for croquettes in the Empire, producing a toasty scent. Then there was the thin layer of soft rice spread on the bottom of the dish. Each bite brought out the doria’s sweetness; it was delicious.

So far, so good—but another ingredient staggered Linda. Is this shripe?!

She impulsively turned toward Aisha, who replied without blinking. “I believe you possess the ability to transport fresh shripe without it rotting, don’t you?”

Suddenly, Linda understood why the Sand Nation’s ambassador had approached the Alfade Company. Shripe was a sea creature that spoiled quickly. When it did, it didn’t just smell rancid, it made one sick. Thus, it was rarely available inland. At the same time, shripe was delectable, so the commoners and nobility living in port towns enjoyed it daily.

Now I see. They want us to transport shripe here.

The Alfade Company did possess the means to transport shripe to the Empire’s capital, which was in the center of the continent. They’d have to hire mages proficient at preservation magic, which would cost a pretty penny. If the company used the connections it had built after expanding in the Kingdom’s capital city, however, that was doable.

We could always make this recipe without shripe… No, that wouldn’t work. Without shripe, this wouldn’t be shrimp doria.

Once she discovered the shripe’s presence, Linda realized it was the star of the dish. You could even describe the small pink shripe itself as a bundle of concentrated umami. With every bite, Linda’s teeth dug through shripe meat, producing juices full of its savory flavor, which paired perfectly with the knight sauce’s gentle sweetness. Combined, the shripe and knight sauce were truly worthy of being called a feast.

The rice had absorbed the knight sauce and shripe’s flavor, making it rich and oozy. Each bite into the rice, like the meat, produced delicious juices. When all four ingredients entered your mouth—the rice, shripe, knight sauce, and cheese—the shrimp doria was a complete experience.

Every mouthful of doria warmed Linda’s body. To her, meals were the one time of day when she could forget her job and simply focus on the flavors enveloping her. After finishing her portion, she sighed heartily.

“How was it?”

“It was exquisite. Extremely.” Once she’d expressed her simple first impression, Linda’s face hardened. “I’d like to bring my chefs here. Is that all right?”

According to the Alfade Company’s intelligence, an inn in a small border nation served a dish similar to shrimp doria. If so, there was no way the Alfade Company’s chefs couldn’t prepare it as well. On top of that, Linda was curious about the other dishes the restaurant served. If everything was as delicious as the doria, she couldn’t afford not to experience it all.

In response to Linda’s bold request, Aisha stated her conditions unabashedly. “As long as you bring me and Alfred along with you, too.”

Chapter 109: Cabbage Rolls

Chapter 109:
Cabbage Rolls

THE FREEZING WIND cut through the torn hood of Salia’s cape and the ragged clothes beneath, making her shiver.

“It’s so cold!” she cried without thinking, pulling her hood even farther over her head. She looked at the path extending before her. This should be the right direction.

How long had she traveled since leaving home? The city where she and her kind could live peacefully was far away, and she’d walked so long there were holes in her shoes and scars from bloody blisters on her feet. Yet somehow, she was still nowhere near her destination.

I’m so hungry. Salia held her grumbling stomach, then looked in her torn hemp bag and sighed. There was no longer food inside, and her wallet contained but a few copper coins. It was a sad fact that she’d simply wither away if she didn’t reach the capital and find her big brother soon. I hope he’s still alive.

Attempting to forget the pain, Salia lost herself in thought.

She’d decided to head to the city because her older brother, who’d left home years ago, invited her. Unlike her, Salia’s brother had a combat blessing. He’d left home after stealing the old sword their great-grandmother used in the war decades ago, claiming he was going to test his own strength. He’d become an adventurer with some measure of success, supposedly.

Salia had always assumed her brother fell in with bandits, but according to a human merchant who’d visited their village, he’d opened a small shop in the capital and was living happily with a lovely wife.

A few months ago, Salia had decided to take her brother up on his offer. She lacked combat prowess, but she was tough as nails, and she had excellent night vision. With only her small hemp bag and the clothes on her back, she’d left home to walk to the capital.

It’s already noon. I hope it’s possible to get to the city before nightfall. Despite her night vision, camping outside alone as a single woman was frightening. Mulling that over, Salia quickened her pace.

The sunlight made her narrow her eyes—until, suddenly, she couldn’t help widening them at the foreign object that appeared before her. Uh, what’s that? A black door stood between the trees of the forest. On it was a picture of a cat with familiar eyes. What the…?

Salia was always curious, so she quickly approached the door, examining it without a second thought. It was free of dirt or dust, despite being in the middle of the woods. Its polished metal handle practically screamed for Salia to touch it.

“Sure…!” She grabbed the handle, only to find that the door wasn’t locked. She opened it to the sound of a bell ringing. “Ah…”

The warm air and barrage of enticing aromas pouring out of the bright room beyond the door tickled her stomach; it rumbled again.

Salia passed through the door into the unknown space. As soon as she entered, her pupils adjusted to the light, and the blurry interior became clear.

“Wow!”

Several people sat in the room, eating. Two old men drinking large glasses of beer and eating some sort of brown food were arguing over whose granddaughter was the cutest.

“You just don’t get it! My Sarah is the most adorable granddaughter in the world!”

“Lies! My dear Adelheid is the jewel of the Empire! She certainly isn’t second to a citizen of the Kingdom!”

She overheard another conversation.

“Whoa! Not bad at all. For a human, you can really drink!”

“When you’re high priest of the Lord of Light, that’s about all you have, as far as entertainment goes! At any rate, let’s talk about you! Aren’t you the one who recently introduced umeshu to the Duchy?”

Nearby, a dwarf and a human woman drank quietly together; the atmosphere at their table was relaxed.

To Salia’s surprise, there was a young man in the restaurant who looked as though he lived the same kind of hard life she did. His eyes were locked on the woman in front of him, who was similarly dressed; he seemed to be building the courage to say something extremely important.

“So, what’d you want to talk about?” the woman asked.

“Well, Ellen, I just thought that it’s about time we…”

What is this place? Salia wondered. A restaurant? It must be. Although the foods weren’t familiar, the warm scent coming from the dishes in the bright room made her stomach growl.

After she’d stood there in shock for a while, another young man called out to her. “Welcome, Miss. Is this your first time here?”

That made Salia panic. She pulled her hood far over her head, turning in the direction of the voice. The young man appeared slightly older than her; his hair and skin were neat as a pin. Even his white shirt and black pants were of far higher quality than Salia’s ripped apparel. Although she hardly thought herself very pretty or clean at the moment, the young man gave Salia a charming smile, waiting for her answer.

“Ah, um, yes,” Salia replied, avoiding eye contact. She was certain she’d disgust him if he saw her face.

“I see! Then welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya. Let me seat you.” The young man kept smiling, trying to lead her to an open seat.

“Ah…um…I’m so sorry. I don’t have any money. Goodbye.” Salia turned to go through the door.

Although she was drawn by the tantalizing scent, Salia knew there were only a few coppers in her wallet. Had this been the kind of pub someone dressed like her could normally enter, she could barely have afforded a drink. This wasn’t a restaurant where she’d be able to buy a meal.

The young man, however, said something that stunned Salia. “Oh, that’s fine! We still serve first-time customers, even if they don’t have any money on them.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you see, since our entrance tends to show up in bizarre places, no one ever comes in thinking this is a restaurant. So, of course, lots of folks wander in without any money. On top of that, they wouldn’t know whether they enjoyed our food without trying it,” the young man explained the restaurant’s system to Salia. “Won’t you please grab a bite? Not to brag, but people really seem to like our food. You can just pay the next time you come in.” He walked to a clean table and pulled out a chair. “Today’s lunch special is cabbage rolls. They’ll warm you right up.”

“Then I’ll take those,” Salia responded with a little smile.

Luckily for Salia, the food came quickly. An elderly gray-haired gentleman brought out her meal. “Sorry about all that. My dumb grandson can’t remember how to behave like a proper waiter.”

Salia thought the gray-haired man was most likely the chef. Now it seemed he was also the grandfather of the young man from earlier.

As he apologized, the gray-haired man set some large green morsels stewing in a deep bowl of red soup on the table. “This is today’s special—cabbage rolls. If you want more bread, you just need to let me know. It’s all you can eat here. You won’t be charged extra or anything.” He set a piece of golden-brown bread down on a clean white plate. “Take your time and enjoy!”

The old man left Salia to her meal. With deliberate care, she reached for the beautiful silver spoon likely meant for the soup and submerged it in the bowlful of red liquid. As she pulled the spoon out, the soup’s aroma made her mouth water. She quickly put the spoonful in her mouth. Delicious!

The soup ran smooth down her throat, leaving the taste of simmered meat and vegetables and a slightly sour flavor. When it came to “soup,” Salia usually envisioned unappetizing vegetables floating in lukewarm water. This thick, rich soup was on a different level. It passed over her tongue, down her throat, and into her stomach.

Salia took a deep breath as she felt the warmth in her belly. Regardless of the fact that this was her first proper meal in ages, it was the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten in her entire life.

She shoveled spoonful after spoonful of soup into her mouth. Her hands simply wouldn’t stop moving; in fact, she pulled her hood off because it was getting in her way. This soup alone is incredible.

As she continued to gulp down the soup, Salia looked more closely at the large green morsels within it. Those put a smile on her face. They were the main course—the cabbage rolls the young man had mentioned.

Salia gulped again, then bit into the bread next to her soup bowl. Her eyes widened in disbelief at its sweetness and softness. This bread was unbelievably delicious, yet according to the older man, it was complimentary; she could get seconds without the restaurant increasing her bill.

“Excuse me! Could I get two more slices of bread?!” Salia called to the young man, who was attending another customer.

“Of course! Coming right up!” he replied with alacrity.

While waiting for her second helping of bread, Salia turned her attention to the green cabbage rolls floating in the red soup. While I’ve got time… She cut into a cabbage roll with her spoon. Having absorbed the broth, the boiled cabbage itself was delicate, allowing Salia to slice it with no resistance and reveal its stuffing. Something rich and brown was wrapped in the green cabbage. Is that…meat?

Salia lifted a piece of the cabbage roll and peered at the slightly reddened cabbage leaf and braised brown meat stuffing. Moistened by the soup, the cabbage roll almost appeared to glisten in the light. Salia’s hunger demanded that she eat, and she didn’t fight back, biting right into the cabbage roll. Ah…it really is meat!

With each bite, the meat’s warm juices poured into her mouth, mixing with the bitterness of the vegetables and broth. It warmed Salia’s entire body, filling her heart with joy so delightful that she kept slicing the cabbage rolls and eating more. At first, they’d looked so large, but now they disappeared into her stomach.

“Ah…” Salia let out a satisfied sigh at the first proper meal she’d had in ages. It had been so delicious, but she wanted more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” the young man exclaimed. “I have your bread. Did you want seconds on the cabbage rolls?”

“Yes! Ah…” Salia whirled to face the young man. After looking at him, she realized the fatal mistake she’d made. H-he saw me!

She panicked and pulled her hood back up, but it was too late. There was no doubt the young man had seen her catlike, vertical pupils—in other words, he’d seen that she was a demon.

***

Many humans still feared demon folk. The Empire’s demon capital, which Salia was currently headed to, was the only place her kind could live safely and in peace.

“Y-you saw me, didn’t you?” she asked in a small voice. She was scared that the young man would chase her out.

“Huh? Is that a problem?” he tilted his head, looking confused.

Salia hadn’t anticipated his response. “Er…”

As his new customer gaped at him, the young man realized that she might be self-conscious over her somewhat unique eyes. He smiled. “Um…you have beautiful eyes. Like a cat’s, you know?”

This young man wasn’t particularly good at complimenting women. He couldn’t come up with anything smooth, a fact even his girlfriend had pointed out to him.

As if in response to his comment, the restaurant door opened, and a regular came in. “Hey! Get me a pork-cutlet rice bowl, now!”

The guest was about two heads taller than Salia, a giant of a man, and had a lion’s face. Unlike Salia, he’d clearly received a powerful demonic blessing.

“H-huh?!” Salia yelped, shocked.

“We get lots of unique guests here,” the young man added, hoping to put Salia at ease. “So, well, it’s fine.” He gently set the bread down in front of her. “Please, take your time and enjoy.”

The young man retreated into the kitchen, fetching his new guest more cabbage rolls.

Chapter 110: Cold Pasta

Chapter 110:
Cold Pasta

AT THE USUAL TIME AND PLACE, the ringing of the restaurant’s bell filled the air.

Heinrich’s stomach had suddenly begun to hurt, making him grimace as he stepped through the door. He placed his hand on it.

“Ah, welcome!” cried the demon waitress. He wasn’t quite familiar with her yet.

“Hey,” he replied.

The waitress led Heinrich to his seat, where he sank down with an unpleasant expression. My stomach hurts.

One of Heinrich’s knights had brought him especially dangerous, important information—deep in the woods, there were signs of widespread mothman breeding.

The knight said that a wandering adventurer had received a request to look near the fortress for some nut or herb that had a medicinal use. According to the adventurer, during their search, they’d come upon a nest of the extremely poisonous flying monsters. They ran when one attacked them—something Heinrich had experienced years ago. The adventurer had brought the information to the knights, hoping to gain some coin.

Since Heinrich was in charge of the fortress, he wasn’t allowed to investigate the mothmen on his own. He’d put together a scouting squad and was preparing to send them to look into it. There was no proof of mass breeding yet; this could be some mistake, or it could be a just a small mothman nest. No, this information hasn’t been confirmed. Still, if it’s like last time…

That had been a harrowing battle Heinrich wouldn’t soon forget. The Duchy’s honorable knights and soldiers sent him off with an urgent message and holed up in the fortress, where they could only await reinforcements. If Heinrich had fallen, the fortress would’ve collapsed, and the Duchy would’ve sustained extraordinary damage.

Heinrich was worried that the very thing he’d prevented then was about to happen.

Mothmen spit poison and flew just out of range of swords and spears, so they were terribly difficult adversaries. To truly combat them, one needed a number of skilled archers and mages. The Duchy might’ve been one of the Eastern Continent’s greatest nations, but since the authorities didn’t give border fortresses like Heinrich’s many men, they stood no chance against an army of mothmen.

No. This situation is better than last time, Heinrich thought. That had been a true surprise attack, so things weren’t exactly the same. Even if his fortress couldn’t avoid engaging them, it wouldn’t be as devastating as before. If nothing else, we have time to prepare.

***

The Duchy’s past rulers hadn’t had great ambitions to expand its territory. Unless something out of the ordinary happened, they didn’t invade other countries for control of land. However, since the Duchy had engaged in a long battle with the Ancient Kingdom after the latter became a nest of the undead, it was skilled at defense.

If Heinrich’s scouts confirmed the widespread presence of mothmen, the authorities would likely send reinforcements. Having tamped down his anxieties, Heinrich had decided to visit the restaurant on the Day of Satur as always.

“What would you like?” the waitress asked him. “Um, your usual fried shrimp…?”

“Yes, that’d…” Heinrich was on the verge of giving the new black-haired waitress his typical order but stopped himself. “Actually, no.”

Perhaps due to his concerns, he wasn’t particularly hungry. The combination of tender fried shripe and eggy tartar sauce was tantalizing; still, Heinrich just wasn’t in the mood.

When his stomach hurt, Heinrich could only handle soup or porridge. He was certain this restaurant would offer something like that, so he asked the waitress, “Do you have something a bit lighter that still contains shripe?”

She thought for a moment, then named a dish that fit the bill. “Hmm…what about cold pasta with shrimp and mentaiko?”

Heinrich had never even thought of that dish. “Cold pasta…? Huh.”

Just thinking about cold meals made Heinrich grimace. He was a knight who’d made his way through wastelands and battlefields, and fought enemy soldiers and monsters. Hot food on the battlefield was a privilege; he was used to eating meals that existed simply to fill the stomach. Still, this was Nekoya, a proper restaurant. He understood that he might not be able to eat hot food during a military campaign or operation, but to come to a restaurant and specifically order something cold…? Heinrich knew this mysterious place sold many cold menu items, but he thought those were mostly limited to desserts and drinks.

On top of that… Heinrich had heard that, in the Kingdom, people kneaded and dried wheat dough to create pasta. He’d seen restaurant customers eat such things; however, those dishes had been normal hot meals. Sure, one could eat pasta after it cooled, but…

“Pasta’s one of those noodle dishes that’s often eaten in the Kingdom, right?” he asked the waitress. “Is that stuff really any good cold?”

“It’s not just hot food that’s cooled off. It’s chilled. There’s a difference. Cold pasta’s particularly good during summer,” the black-haired waitress replied with a smile. She appeared confident that the cold pasta was delicious.

“I see. I’ll have that, then.” This is the Restaurant to Another World, Heinrich reflected. It was a place that offered mysterious meals far beyond his imagination. Furthermore, he’d never eaten anything at Nekoya that wasn’t delicious.

“Excellent. That’ll be right out.” The black-haired waitress returned to the back.

Heinrich waited, pondering what kind of meal he’d receive. Finally, the blonde demon waitress appeared with his food in hand. “Thank you for waiting!”

Tiny, curled red-and-white shripe decorated the thin wheat noodles, which weren’t steaming, of course, since they were cold. The portion of pasta on the ceramic plate wasn’t exactly heaping, but it was perfect for Heinrich, who didn’t have much of an appetite to begin with.

He sipped his lemon water and took his fork in hand. Now then, I suppose it’s time to eat, he thought. Actually, I feel as if I’ve heard of “mentaiko.” If he remembered correctly, it was something made in the Kingdom using fish eggs. Still, he’d never eaten it.

I suppose there’s no point hesitating. Heinrich twirled the thin, threadlike noodles around his fork and brought them to his mouth.

The flavor of the pasta, which he was experiencing for the first time, was surprisingly gentle. The dish’s creamy richness cut by a dash of acid was similar to the tartar sauce on fried shrimp. Oh…this contains tartar sauce. No…it’s the mayonnaise used in tartar sauce. That creamy tang was the flavor of the mayo, according to other customers.

The cold pasta also had a spiciness that tartar sauce lacked. However, it was a heat familiar to Heinrich—the mentaiko apparently contained chili pepels. “Pepels, eh? Surprisingly, it works,” he said to himself, realizing that the seasoning paired well with tartar sauce.

Then there’s this salty flavor. I see…it’s the fish eggs.

Tiny, grain-like roe were producing the slightly gritty—but not unpleasant—texture of the pasta. Heinrich’s teeth and tongue crushed the eggs with ease, leaving his mouth awash with their briny flavor. The taste of the sea enveloped his tongue, going down his throat into his stomach. On its own, the flavor would’ve been too strong, but the tartar sauce and thin noodles’ mildness made the roe easy to consume.

“Mmm,” murmured Heinrich. The dish didn’t hit him like a brick; rather, it was smoothly appetizing, lightening the weight on his heart. At least, that was how he felt. “Now, the shripe’s next.”

Having enjoyed a single bite of mentaiko and noodles, Heinrich turned his attention to the true star of the show. Compared to fried shrimp, the shripe were smaller and cooked more lightly. Their striped patterns were beautiful. Heinrich swiped the shripe through the white sauce, bringing some to his mouth.

As the shripe’s delicate skin burst beneath his teeth, Heinrich noted that it tasted milder than the fried shrimp he was used to. However, each bite was bursting with umami that melded with the mentaiko’s rich saltiness and the slightly tangy mayo.

Heinrich continued eating, eventually realizing the cold pasta’s main drawback. Since it was so rich, the portion was small. However, it was delicious enough that a single plate wouldn’t be enough.

At this point, it was only a matter of time before he finished the cold pasta. There was only one way to solve this problem.

“I’d like to place an order!” Heinrich called. “Another cold pasta, please! And some fried shrimp as well!”

Things will be fine. This time, we’ve reacted to the situation quickly, he thought. The dark cloud over his heart had vanished along with his empty stomach.

Chapter 111: Mont Blanc Pudding

Chapter 111:
Mont Blanc Pudding

NEAR A FORTRESS on the Duchy’s border, there were signs of widespread mothman breeding.

That news sent a shock wave through the Duchy. While the nation had thankfully avoided mobilizing its entire military force during the last mothman incursion, dealing with the creatures had taken a massive toll on the Duchy’s treasury. Mothman poison had also struck down many soldiers and knights, and the survivors were never able to stand on the battlefield again.

Furthermore, humans were prohibited from entering the region corrupted by the mothmen’s venom, lest they sicken and collapse. Most horrifically, other monsters attracted to poison swarmed into that area, forcing the Duchy to abandon multiple towns nearby.

Those memories were stark in the king’s mind. Although demons were cruel and violent, they understood human logic and reasoning. Monsters, however, were mindless, vicious creatures. If he failed to act, more of the Duchy’s citizens would die. Even if he deployed the military to annihilate the mothmen, there’d still be unimaginable sacrifices.

The king asked the sages whether there was a way to avoid these outcomes. Only one sage presented an alternative.

***

Mothmen were insectoid monsters, so they were weak to the cold. Unlike adult mothmen, eggs and young could freeze to death in chilly climates. The Duchy knew of such a climate at the northern tip of the faraway Western Continent. When the elves lost control of their old magic, snow and ice had covered that now-accursed land. Connecting the region to the mothmen’s location via magic would solve the problem.

As for identifying someone who could cast teleportation magic, a Duchy sage had learned the spell from the great sage Altorius himself. The problem was that this particular sage wasn’t in a position to remark on the government’s inner workings. This time, however, she decided to step in.

The sage was the king’s elder sister Victoria, the great sage Altorius’s pupil. She was known as the Duchy’s “Witch Princess.” Despite being the daughter of the very human previous king and queen, Victoria had been born a half-elf changeling.

The Witch Princess was currently at home in the Duchy, holed up in her study in a castle tower. In exchange for research funds and a modest allowance, Victoria occasionally presented the results of her studies to the government. Otherwise, she lived a secretive, quiet life.

The king had complete confidence in Victoria’s abilities. After his father and mother passed away, she was the family he was closest to. His sister had extraordinary talent, and she’d studied with an eminent teacher. Although she was some years older than the king, she was still youthful. She was the type to come up with and cast spells the king had never thought possible. If she said teleportation magic could freeze the mothmen, it could be done.

Still, the king couldn’t move the Duchy on his authority alone. The nation’s history and culture, and especially its deep grudge against half-elves for destroying the Ancient Kingdom, carried weight. Any plan Victoria championed wouldn’t be easily accepted.

And so, there was a compromise.

***

I never thought we’d meet again like this.

Loretta was an influential Duchy court mage, despite being a woman. She was currently speeding toward Heinrich’s fortress in a carriage, face-to-face with her childhood friend for the first time in twenty years.

The only thing that gave her friend’s identity away was her slightly pointy ears. She’d adjusted her hair so it covered that damning feature, and she wore a hat low on her brow. Her beautiful silver hair was braided, and she was dressed in a robe stitched with powerful elven magic. She looked slightly younger than Loretta’s daughter, as if she’d just come of age.

Loretta’s childhood friend was, of course, the king’s elder sister, Victoria.

Loretta had been born to a noble house that had produced generations of court mages. Once she’d come of age and been recognized as a talented court mage in her own right, she’d proceeded to pursue magical research. As the only remaining scion of her family, she also married and had children to continue the bloodline. Her busy days consisted of research, work, and teaching magic to her children.

Loretta had been summoned directly by another childhood friend, the king, to fulfill a request. Given that this was a direct missive from the king, I wondered what it would be, she recalled.It turned out that the king wanted her to annihilate the mothmen on the Duchy’s border with a blast of snow.

And so, the Duchy’s female court mage, Loretta Feiston, received the honor of preparing the significant magic this mission would require. The Duchy had also hired a wandering adventure, “Pudding,” to assist. Pudding was an extremely talented mage with an unknown background, but on paper, Loretta was in charge. Her aide, Pudding, would appear to ride Loretta’s coattails for this achievement.

Upon being introduced to this “Pudding,” she saw the irony of the arrangement.

In public, Loretta would receive the credit and rewards for accomplishing the mission, simply to ensure that the name “Victoria” wasn’t associated with the event. In terms of Loretta’s house and family name, that would be a huge boon. Loretta also had the opportunity to learn powerful teleportation magic in the process. The thing she couldn’t come to grips with, though, was her old childhood friend being used like this.

Is this really all right with you, Victoria?

The carriage rocked back and forth. The sight of Victoria reminded Loretta of a time when she was just an innocent little girl, and she very nearly voiced her thoughts aloud. At the end of the day, however, Victoria had come up with this plan. Loretta decided her friend must be at peace with how things were.

***

After Victoria came of age, she’d generally stopped appearing in public. The last time Loretta had seen her was over twenty years ago, before the court mage had even had her first child.

Over the years, however, Loretta had heard rumors from the head court mage that Victoria had surpassed them all after studying magic for just a year, that she’d become the great sage Altorius’s pupil, and so on. Loretta was a talented mage, but average among court mages. At this point, the Witch Princess was likely far more skilled than she was.

In appearance, Victoria appeared to be the same girl Loretta last saw just before the coming-of-age ceremony. She reminded Loretta of her own slightly rebellious daughter, and her motherly instincts urged her to regard Victoria as a young woman being used by awful adults. Yet the fact that those maternal thoughts rose to her mind when looking at her old friend proved to Loretta that she had aged, and she hated that.

“Hey, Vic—uh, Pudding?”

“Just call me Victoria. You’ve always called me that,” replied Victoria sharply. The look on her face reminded Loretta of when her companion was still just an exuberant child who enjoyed playing tricks on people.

As Loretta recognized the Victoria she knew from long ago, her expression relaxed. “Right. Then, Victoria, have you been well? I take it you’re in good health?”

“Yes. It’s a bit sad that I can’t have children of my own, but my niece and nephew are just the sweetest. And my magical research is fascinating. I do think I’m doing well, actually. How about you?”

“I’m probably doing all right, too. My husband is kind, and my children have learned to use a little magic recently. Still, there are lots of annoyances.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm! I’m nobility, a court mage, and a mother. You can imagine how much I’m juggling.”

“I see. I hadn’t considered that.”

“At the end of the day, we’ve all got our own problems,” Loretta continued. “Nothing’s just pure fun, and you have hassles like this fiasco sometimes.”

The women sighed in unison.

***

On their way to the fortress, the reunited pair caught up on all that’d happened in the past two decades, filling in the blanks between them. When they arrived, they met the young knight responsible for the fortress. For some reason, he started when he heard Victoria’s fake name. Afterward, Loretta and Victoria headed to a meeting room to discuss things in detail.

“First of all, the mothman nest is here, and the fortress is here,” Loretta said, looking at the map. “It seems like there’s an elf village to the south.”

“Involving the elves would be inadvisable. I think we should place the magic circle…around here.”

Magic that used a magic circle was more powerful and lasted significantly longer. It’d be extremely effective for taking out a nest of monsters.

“I assumed as much. That’s one complicated magic circle, though! Even if we borrow magic from all the mages here, we’ll need protection until it’s complete.”

Higher-tier magic circles were bigger and more complex. Looking at the designs Victoria brought, she could see this magic circle was about as large as a pond. She wouldn’t be able to draw the circle without a certain amount of magic power, and on top of that, it had lots of intricate sections; it would take days to finish.

“I’ll leave those details to you. I don’t know much about that sort of thing,” Victoria admitted apologetically, adding, “If Master were here, he’d create the entire circle with his magic and activate it in no time.” The only people who could that, however, were elves or the great sage Altorius.

“No point worrying about someone who’s not here,” Loretta replied. “There seem to be a few military mages here at the fortress. We can ask them to help.”

“Good idea. I’m not familiar with that kind of thing, either, so I’ll leave it to you.” When it came to magic, Victoria knew more than most mages, but she’d learned very little regarding government or military affairs.

This was probably a factor in why her brother, the king, had sent Loretta with her. Loretta wasn’t only a court mage, she was well-versed in the Duchy’s political and military spheres. Her social expertise was a huge relief to Victoria.

As they hammered out the details, Loretta was silently astonished. She really is a genius.

Even Loretta, a court mage who’d received the best education the Duchy offered, didn’t completely understand the schematics Victoria had put together. She could generally discern its purpose and see that it would work, but the details that went into its creation were over her head.

Victoria was one of the most talented mages on the continent. Even as a pupil, she’d completely understood Altorius’s complex, innovative theories. She was the Witch Princess of the Duchy, and listening to her explain this piece of magic far beyond her own talents reminded Loretta why her old friend’s talent warranted such a nickname.

And she’ll keep researching magic for over a hundred years, Loretta reflected, feeling the envy with which mages looked upon half-elves firsthand. She’d never catch up to Victoria.

Wiping her feelings of resentment away, Loretta asked, “Victoria, how did you find out this magic circle connects to the Western Continent’s northern region? Did Lord Altorius tell you?”

“That’s partly how. But I also went there myself. It was incredibly cold—I swore I was going to die,” Victoria grimaced. Apparently, it was a memory she’d rather not recall.

“Huh?”

“There are tons of old elven artifacts on the Western Continent, so Master and I went to check them out,” Victoria explained. “We used his teleportation magic to reach the Sand Nation, then traveled all the way north.”

That can’t be! Loretta thought, before reconsidering.

When Altorius was younger, the great sage was one of the Four Heroes who’d traveled to defeat the multiple demon lords that still existed. Altorius had supposedly been all over the world, and the teleportation magic he brought back made Victoria’s statement possible.

“W-wow,” Loretta stammered. “You’ve been all kinds of places, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. On the Eastern Continent, I’ve been south of the Empire, to the city of the dead, and even to the Red Dragon Mountains. Those were extremely dangerous, so Master didn’t want me traveling there alone.”

“Care to share your stories with me later…?” Loretta asked her old friend, who’d seemingly been on quite a staggering adventure.

“I’d love to,” replied Victoria with an enthusiastic nod.

Knock! Knock!

“Uh, pardon me, Lady Pudding.” Beyond the door was a familiar masculine voice. “The master asked me to give you this. Is now a good time?”

That’s the young knight in charge of this fortress who greeted us when we arrived. Heinrich, I believe? Loretta wondered whether the situation with the mothmen had changed. Under the circumstances, Heinrich sounded surprisingly calm.

“Can I open the door?” Victoria asked her.

“Sure,” Loretta nodded.

As Loretta had expected, the young blond knight was there, holding a white box. “Ah…um…Lady Pudding, I really didn’t expect you to come to our aid. You have my deepest gratitude. I’d like you to accept these as thanks. When I asked the master, he said they were a good choice. Apparently they’re seasonal…?”

Heinrich fumbled, seemingly unused to this sort of thing, but the white box evidently contained a gift for Victoria. Somehow or other, judging from their back-and-forth, this knight had become one of “Pudding’s” associates. What’s this? Victoria, you sly girl!

“According to the master, they’re sweets,” Heinrich added. “So, you should eat them soon.”

Victoria took the box with a smile. “Got it. Thanks.”

“Right. Well, um…see you later.” Noticing Victoria’s smile, Heinrich blushed and closed the door behind him.

The women heard his footsteps grow distant. Loretta waited for them to vanish entirely before asking, “So, what’s that?”

“The pudding the master recommends. It’s a mouthwatering dessert made with egg,” Victoria replied, peeking quickly into the package. She thought for a moment, then added, “I don’t have a winter box with me today, so would you like to eat these with me?”

Loretta had no idea what material the strange white package was made from. It had an illustration of a winged dog, and she felt something cold within it—likely the “pudding” her friend described.

Wait. “Pudding…”? She peered at Victoria. The word “pudding” didn’t exist in the Duchy’s language, so Loretta had assumed it was just chosen randomly. Apparently, however, it came from this dessert.

“I didn’t think Fried Sh—er, I mean, Heinrich…could be so thoughtful,” Victoria mused.

It was virtually impossible for Loretta to figure out what kind of connection Heinrich and Victoria had, considering that the former was a young knight in his twenties who rarely had chances to visit the capital, and the latter was a nearly forty-year-old princess who never showed her face in public.

As the court mage was unraveling the puzzle, Victoria opened the box gingerly. Inside sat two clear glasses topped with a strange white substance. The food inside the glasses looked unfamiliar to Loretta, but according to her friend, this was “pudding.”

“Pudding’s delicious, you know,” Victoria told Loretta, turning to hand her something.

“A spoon? What’s it made of?” Loretta took the utensil and began studying it—a habit many mages shared when handed something unfamiliar.

The spoon was clearly meant for this pudding stuff. It was tiny—a perfect size to fit into the small containers. Its material, however, was a complete mystery to Loretta. The transparency is like glass. However, the clear spoon wasn’t heavy like glass. In fact, it was far lighter than a wooden spoon. Is it ice? No, it’d have to be colder.

As far as Loretta knew, there was nothing quite like it. “Seriously, what’s this material?”

“No idea. My master asked the restaurant’s master some time ago. He said the spoon was ‘plastic’ or something.”

An entirely unfamiliar material… That puzzled Loretta further. Victoria simply laughed in response, lifting the day’s star attraction—the glasses of pudding—from the box.

“These are probably Mont Blanc pudding, since they’re a seasonal autumn flavor.” Victoria handed a glass containing her absolute favorite dessert to her old friend.

Loretta took it unhesitatingly. “Pudding…”

She could tell from the side of the glass that the dessert was separated into beautiful layers. At the bottom was something pitch-black; a buttery yellow layer rested on top. Those took up most of the glass, but a creamy brown layer sat above them. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

Victoria was wolfing down the pudding. Judging from her attitude, it was safe enough to eat.In fact, just watching her made Loretta’s mouth water. She appears to be enjoying it. Well, I might as well give it a taste.

Loretta was a mage who sought to understand the greater workings of the universe. She naturally had a sense of curiosity even stronger than most people. She immediately imitated Victoria, pulling the wrapper off the glass container and lifting the lid.

It doesn’t smell like much, she noticed.

Loretta dipped her spoon into the brown layer and scooped up a little pudding. Some white powder resembling snow rested on top, which was seemingly mixed with some kind of nut.

From the pudding’s aesthetic beauty, it was clearly the work of a true artisan.After observing the pudding for a moment, Loretta put the spoon in her mouth. The cream’s rich flavor spread over her tongue. Mmm.

Thanks to the nuts mixed into the sweet cream, it had a mealy bitterness. It was less sweet than the desserts Loretta usually ate, but that made it easier to appreciate the nuts’ flavor. Loretta was familiar with their taste and soon recognized it. Ah, those are marones. Were they ground and mixed with sugar?

The brown cream’s smooth texture was delicious on its own, but after enjoying its flavor for a bit, Loretta dipped her spoon deeper, into the yellow layer.

The plastic spoon felt much more fragile than a metal or wooden one, but it dug through the pudding cleanly. The yellow layer was probably made of eggs and milk; it wasn’t liquid, but it was very soft and broke apart easily. What a bizarre texture.

Loretta scooped up some pudding, bringing it to her mouth. Mmm. It’s so soft…and it’s cold. I wonder how sweet it is.

The yellow pudding fell apart without her chewing, and its flavor suffused her mouth. It was much sweeter than the brown cream she’d eaten earlier; she could get addicted to this.

Suddenly, she figured out the yellow layer’s core ingredients. This is made of eggs, milk, and sugar! And crushed marones for aroma, I bet.

She’d recently heard that the prince’s favorite dessert among the palace delicacies was made with eggs. Is this it? Loretta decided that the rumored dish must be pudding.

“The middle pudding layer is delicious on its own, but combining it with the creamy layer on top is even more scrumptious,” Victoria said. “Oh—and you should save the caramel at the bottom for later.”

Obeying the Witch Princess’s seasoned advice, Loretta ate a spoonful of the middle layer mixed with the cream atop it. Combining them brought out the best in both flavors; Loretta was actually a bit moved. “Wow…the whole dish changes a lot.”

The yellow layer’s sweetness and gentle eggy taste welcomed the mildly sweet brown cream. The mysterious marone flavor and fragrant vanilla likewise spread through Loretta’s mouth. Mont Blanc pudding required you to eat both the flavors packed into the single glass simultaneously, Loretta realized. What a mysterious dessert.

She kept digging into her pudding without stopping, eventually reaching the bottom of the glass. “Oh… What’s this black stuff?”

As her spoon struck the layer, dark liquid came through cracks, coloring its surface. Loretta dipped her spoon, then licked it.

The black liquid was apparently made from a sugar base; it was far sweeter than any other element of the pudding. However, it was also strangely bitter, and that flavor wasn’t masked in the least.

Sweet but bitter? Did the cook burn the sugar? Giving it some thought, Loretta arrived at the answer. If this pudding had been a normal dessert, she would’ve considered the black liquid a failure. But it pairs wonderfully with the other layers in this “pudding” stuff. It’s surprisingly tasty.

Mixed with the upper layers, the dark syrup had its own unique appeal. The gentle sweetness of the former tempered the almost-cloying strength of the dark liquid, which in turn brought out more of the pudding’s unique flavors.

Victoria had polished off her Mont Blanc pudding some time ago, and she’d been watching her friend with rapt attention. When they finished their desserts, she locked eyes with Loretta and asked her opinion. “How’d you like it…?”

Loretta chuckled. Deep within Victoria’s eyes was the certainty that Loretta found the pudding delicious. Yet there was also a hint of anxiety over whether her friend enjoyed it as much as she did. The court mage answered truthfully. “Actually, it was delectable.”

“Thank goodness! I knew you’d feel that way.” Loretta’s half-elf friend smiled with relief, apparently unconcerned with the upcoming battle.

Seeing her friend’s grin, Loretta thought, I’m sure this mothman hunt will go just fine.

Chapter 112: Tenshinhan

Chapter 112:
Tenshinhan

THE MASTER LIVED on the third floor of Nekoya’s building.

A long time ago, when the previous master was still alive, he’d lived elsewhere. Once he took over the restaurant, however, traveling home was a bit of a pain, so he’d decided to move into the building itself.

In his apartment was a living room, a bedroom Aletta could now stay in—previously used for storage—a small kitchen to test new dishes, and a bathroom. He used the restaurant’s shower when he needed to wash.

The apartment had originally been a place to crash overnight when it was too annoying to head home. It wasn’t designed for long-term living, but the master had no hobbies other than cooking, so that wasn’t an issue.

***

Sunday came around, the day when preparations for the week began. It was the one day the restaurant wasn’t open. After eating breakfast and sending Aletta home, the master decided to tidy the apartment’s main living space.

Man…I haven’t cleaned this place in a while.

The master’s niece had told him that Aletta needed a room to rest in after Nekoya closed on Saturday nights, so he’d begun letting the waitress stay in the bedroom he and the previous master used to sleep in. In other words, it was basically Aletta’s room now. So, the master had decided to clear a space for himself in the living room, which the previous master had used as a study.

Besides faded books, the room held a few photos of his grandmother when she was young, as well as her children, the master’s parents. After the previous master passed away, the master hadn’t felt right messing with the stuff in his apartment, so he’d just used this room to store things like books.

After dusting all the items in the room, he began cleaning. As he did so, he found something—a large can he didn’t remember purchasing. It had a yellow paper label.

“What’s this doing here? Is this…crab?” He looked at the label and confirmed his guess.

The master likely hadn’t bought the can himself, since it contained a bit too much crab to eat alone, and he wouldn’t have purchased it for the restaurant. He basically never used canned crab as an ingredient, and it wasn’t enough crab meat to serve at Nekoya. The can had probably been pricey—it was the sort of expensive crab served by five-star restaurants or received as a gift.

That jogged his memory. “Leonhart’s master gave me this!”

The master thought back on how he’d received the can. It must have been about two years ago. A fellow restauranteur had gotten a bunch of presents during the summer, or at end of the year, so he’d regifted this to the master.

The master saw that the can had gotten much closer to its expiration date in the last two years. He’d planned to eat the crab at some point; he’d just forgotten about it. What’d be the best way to prepare this?

“Next Saturday’s staff meal,” he mumbled, picturing the faces of two of Nekoya’s employees if crab was the main ingredient in the dish. “Tenshinhan it is, then!”

When the master was still training, the restaurant he’d worked at had served this kind of crab-meat omelet as their specialty. Next week’s staff meal was set.

***

The following Saturday, the clock struck nine, signaling the end of the workday. After seeing off the final customer, then cleaning up, Nekoya’s employees were free to do whatever they wanted until the staff meal was ready.

Saki and Aletta chatted a bit, exchanging compliments while they listened to the master cook the staff meal. In the last few months, the two had really broken the ice between them, and their conversation came easily.

“Good work out there today,” Saki said. “It was hectic.”

“Thanks—you, too! It really was wild out there today.” Aletta had worked at the Restaurant to Another World for the past few years, and Saturdays were always nonstop.

They’d had some downtime in the morning, right after the restaurant opened, but they got tons of guests as soon as noon rolled around. Visitors in the afternoon had mostly wanted cups of tea and dessert, but the evening guests had gotten off work and ordered liquor and snacks. By nightfall, most of the diners were there for food and alcohol. At the end of the day, after the final customer dropped by for her giant pot of beef stew, the only times the waitstaff had rested were their respective breaks.

That was why this was such an important time. Work was finished, and Saki and Aletta could bask in the sweet freedom and sense of accomplishment at the end of a busy day.

“Saturdays are a circus,” Saki added. “On weekdays, the restaurant’s not really that busy, except for lunch.”

Her words surprised Aletta. “Wow, really?”

The demon girl knew that “weekdays” were the days when Nekoya was only open to the other world; basically, the days besides the Day of Satur and the next day. There was a bunch of small lockers just like Aletta’s in the changing room, so she knew more otherworlders worked at Nekoya. Still, she was only familiar with a handful of people from that world, including the master. She had no real knowledge of what “weekdays” were like.

“Yup. Although, to be fair, more people work in the kitchen and dining room on weekdays, and we don’t serve nearly as varied a menu. But, yeah, lunchtime’s wild.”

“Wilder than the Day of Satur?” Aletta asked in astonishment, picturing Nekoya during a weekday lunchtime. Would every seat in the restaurant be full?

“Mm-hmm. Tons of businessmen from nearby offices drop in during lunch. We get them to share tables, and even then, we haven’t got enough space. I only work lunchtime on days when I don’t have lectures. Still, it’s rough!”

“Wow. I had no idea.” The stories Saki shared always astounded Aletta, especially since Saki normally lived in the other world, like the master. The young student knew all kinds of things and saw all kinds of stuff. It honestly made Aletta a little jealous.

“When I think about it, Uncle really is amazing,” Saki added. “Even though I help a bit in the kitchen on Saturdays, he’s always looking after things on his own.”

Just like that, the topic turned back to the master. He’d started letting Saki help prepare orders at the restaurant lately; still, he handled all the recipes, and he was amazingly skilled and fast. Even Aletta, a complete novice when it came to cooking, saw that much.

“Agreed,” the demon waitress said. “The master is amazing.”

Aletta knew that only a true chef could serve nobility. The master did more than just boil, fry, or chop—he really cooked. That was why Nekoya’s staff meals were always so delicious.

“I wonder what he’s making today,” she added in a near whisper.

“He’s using a wok. Plus, this morning, he told me to look forward to dinner—he found a can of expensive crab someone gave him. He’s probably making a crab-meat omelet or something,” Saki answered. She looked toward the kitchen, where the master was whistling.

“Oh, right! He did say something about ‘crabs’ and ‘cans.’ I didn’t really understand, though.”

Saki had totally forgotten that Aletta was from a different world from her and the master and wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about their side. She explained as best she could. “Uh…um…crabs are, like…er, they have big pincer claws. They live in the ocean. I guess you could say they’re, like…distant relatives of shrimp? And then cans are…like…metal containers you put food in to keep it from going bad.”

The explanation was a bit sloppy. Saki wasn’t sure whether Aletta understood. Apparently, the demon girl had never even seen the ocean. As far as Saki knew, their lifestyles were entirely different. Aletta had never attended school—there supposedly weren’t any schools for someone like her to enroll at in the first place.

Trying to explain this is tough, Saki reflected. Her way of thinking is, like, totally different.

“I see,” Aletta replied. “So, ‘crabs’ live in the ocean like shrimp, and ‘cans’ contain food that doesn’t spoil. Thanks for teaching me so much!”

Saki felt a tad awkward as Aletta expressed her gratitude. It wasn’t like she was actually so familiar with crabs and cans that she could teach someone. She could recommend dishes to people from Aletta’s world because she’d eaten a lot of foods, but her expertise beyond that was uneven at best. The exchange reminded her of the importance of knowledge. I need to study harder!

“Food’s ready!” the master called. “Come grab a seat.”

The two waitresses cut their conversation short, hurrying to the table. Atop a large white plate, a heap of white, red, green, and black ingredients decorated a yellow mountain. This was today’s staff meal.

“Is this omelet rice…?” asked Aletta, thinking of a dish that looked similar. One lizard-faced customer apparently adored omelet rice; Aletta’s other employer, Sarah, had said the customer was a monster called a “lizardman.”

“It’s similar, but a bit different.”

The master brought over a small pot of sauce he’d made; as the final touch, he poured it over the meal. The thick reddish sauce flowed down over the yellow eggs. A completely new aroma rose from the dish, making Aletta’s stomach growl.

“This is tenshinhan,” said the master. “It’s been a long time since I made it, but it’s damn good.” He found this particular dish a bit nostalgic, since it’d been popular at the restaurant where he trained years ago.

“Huh…tenshinhan.” Saki couldn’t help smiling at that night’s meal. “I haven’t had many chances to eat this. It’s kind of exciting!”

“Thanks for the food!” the three exclaimed simultaneously and dug in together.

Aletta picked up a large white ceramic spoon; it wasn’t a utensil she was used to. She peered at the mountain of eggs. This really does look like omelet rice.

She’d worked here at Nekoya for years, and she hadn’t just eaten lots of different staff meals; she’d also brought customers all kinds of dishes. Aletta could tell the dish in front of her consisted of rice and eggs. However, the ketchup the master topped omelet rice with was redder and more opaque than this sauce.

After scrutinizing the tenshinhan, she dipped her spoon into the yellow eggs; it cut their soft surface, which had cooked without toughening, with little resistance.

I wonder what tenshinhan tastes like. Aletta brought the sauce-covered spoonful to her mouth. From that one bite, she realized just how different the dish was from omelet rice. Ooh—there’s all kinds of stuff mixed into the eggs!

The waitress noted mashruums’ light texture and the crunch of bamboo shoots, then crisp green onions that lent the eggs a strong allium flavor. The sweet-and-sour tenshinhan sauce was much milder than those generally used at Nekoya. It tasted like soy sauce, and was slightly peppery, which suited the eggs’ mild flavor well.

Then Aletta tasted the meat in the tenshinhan. It’s kind of…sweet? She’d never eaten anything like it before. It was different from beef, pork, fish, or even shripe. Each bite unleashed the spectacularly tender meat’s flavor into her mouth. Ah, I get it. That’s…

“Mmm. Gosh, I haven’t had crab in forever,” Saki observed from beside Aletta.

“Likewise.” The master seemed supremely satisfied as he ate his tenshinhan. “Not to toot my own horn, but this is good stuff.”

Aletta glanced at the two, then buried her spoon back into the pile of delicious fried eggs. It pressed through the egg layer, and she discovered white rice hidden beneath. It was completely unseasoned, unlike fried rice. At first, the white rice seemed a bit plain to Aletta. But when she ate the rice layer, fried eggs, and sauce together, it was undoubtedly delicious.

The three continued to demolish the mountain of tenshinhan. Late at night at the Restaurant to Another World, a staff meal was a familiar sight—and, simultaneously, a joyous time indeed.

Chapter 113: Ajillo

Chapter 113:
Ajillo

REGARDLESS OF THE SEASON, snow and ice always covered the white lands on the Western Continent’s northern edge. It was said that the climate had developed long ago, when significant magic had run amok.

Beings called snow women now inhabited this land where no other creatures or plants could live. Snow women were magical life-forms; the elves that once governed the land had left them behind. As such, the snow women were the area’s new rulers.

The snow women could survive in the freezing land, however cold it became. They lived off the magic in the snow and ice and didn’t require food. They could freeze whatever they wanted by concentrating their magic and touching it. Sometimes, they rode blasts of cold wind through the air. Even if they were attacked, their wounds simply froze over; their whole bodies were that way.

On the outside, the snow women looked like unintimidating women and girls, but if they became hostile to humans, they posed as big a threat as ogres.

Some snow women pretended to be human, visiting other lands during cold winters. There were all sorts of reasons for that—to obtain something unavailable in the north, to have fun, to fall in love with a human and have children.

As long as there were snow and ice nearby, snow women lived as long as half-elves. Without either, however, they couldn’t survive longer than a year. So, the snow women looked forward to the season when snow covered the southern nation. They moved south with the snow and returned north before it melted, where they spent the months till winter returned once more.

***

Returning to the whitelands for the first time in months, Sayuki said farewell to her friend. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes. All right.”

During winter, they’d lived together as close friends in the human nation. That wasn’t necessary in the whitelands, however. The snow women’s energy sources—snow and ice—covered the region year-round, so the women were at their most powerful here, although the climate made it impossible for most living things to thrive.

Snow women in the whitelands didn’t need to form groups to survive, so they lived however they wished. Some hated isolation and created communities, but some preferred solitude.

Sayuki enjoyed time to herself. After saying goodbye to her friend, she looked out at the familiar world of white. “Now, how long should I wait again?”

The black door with the cat was supposed to appear every seven days. Sayuki hadn’t been to the whitelands in months, however, so she hadn’t figured out what day it was.

“Well, whatever,” she murmured. “I can just wait till it shows up.”

She’d enjoyed humans’ company throughout the winter, but that season was ending. She’d have to bide her time at home, bored, for the next three seasons. Compared to that, what was a few days?

She waited patiently for the door.

***

“Ah! There it is!”

It ended up taking the door two days to appear in its usual spot—right on the white mountain, unbothered by the wind. Sayuki had once seen an avalanche bury the door; it had been entirely undamaged, remaining connected to the other world.

“Time to get ready,” she murmured.

To ensure no cold escaped her body, she pulled a heavy coat on, closing it tightly with a belt. This way, she could handle eating at the Restaurant to Another World.

Other snow women hated places that were too hot, and even Sayuki needed to muster some courage every time she entered Nekoya. She waited until the sun was directly above her, then opened the door.

“Here we go!”

Warm air—far out of place in the whitelands—gusted through the door along with the musical sound of a ringing bell.

***

Cold air blasted into Nekoya like a freezing cry: “Hey! Winter’s not over!”

Several customers, as well as a girl who looked like a waitress, glanced toward Sayuki in surprise. The snow woman felt a bit embarrassed. She generally only dealt with the southern humans a little bit during the winter, so she still wasn’t used to being looked at. Fleeing the stares, she took a seat in the corner of the restaurant, where the temperature was slightly cooler.

Shortly after Sayuki sat down, the blonde waitress came over. “Um, welcome,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

This girl had started working at the restaurant a few years ago. Sayuki only dropped into Nekoya about once a year, but since she always came in with a winter wind, the waitress likely remembered her.

Sayuki was genuinely pleased to interact with someone other than another snow woman. “Indeed. Long time no see. Um…I’d like to order now, if that’s all right,” she got straight to the point. She’d known what she’d eat before she arrived.

“Of course! Please go right ahead!” The waitress smiled brightly.

Sayuki responded with a single sentence. “Ajillo, with bread.” That was the “hottest” dish available at the restaurant.

***

Sayuki waited for her order in the dining room, which was as warm as usual. This place is always hotter than a normal human’s house.

It was boiling, as far as she was concerned—but apparently it was just the right temperature for humans and monsters. Everyone in the restaurant either wore lightweight, casual garments, or had removed their jacket or coat.

Sayuki, on the other hand, didn’t take off the thick coat she was wearing. That was her way of trapping the cold air within. Snow women’s body temperatures were extremely low, so they could withstand heat to some extent by putting on layers.

Still, this restaurant was unbearably hot compared to the frigid cold of the whitelands. Sayuki sipped the slightly sour ice water the waitress had brought earlier. By her standards, the water was lukewarm; under the circumstances, though, it was still delicious.

I’m…sweating. Snow women seldom sweated, but oddly enough, it felt quite nice when they did. Sayuki’s low temperature froze the perspiration coming off her body, cooling her further.

None of the snow women she’d invited were particularly fond of Nekoya. It wasn’t the food, it was the temperature. Everyone said this restaurant was too hot, but…

Sayuki had heard about snow women who’d fallen into hot springs deep beneath the whitelands; they’d melted and died. She’d even heard tales of snow women who went south for the season and were unable to return in time, perishing in a foreign land. Since heat meant death to snow women, Sayuki was something of an outlier for finding the restaurant bearable.

A black-haired waitress arrived carrying her order. The waitress had the features of someone from the southern nation. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Your meal’s arrived.”

Her food arrived sizzling on a black metal plate resting on a wooden platter. “It’s very hot, so please be careful. If you touch the metal, you’ll burn yourself,” the waitress added. “Take your time and enjoy!”

Sayuki knew all that. She could tell on sight that the plate was scorching—far warmer than this room. On the metal plate rested colorful shripe and several vegetables she didn’t know the names of. The dish was incredibly vibrant; red, green, brown, and pink ingredients lay in the golden oil with green herbs.

Next to her main dish—ajillo—sat toasted golden bread; beside it was ice water. Sayuki was terribly fond of that combination. Now then, first…

Swallowing loudly, she picked up her silver spoon and dipped it into the golden-yellow oil with green seasonings. She lifted a spoonful of oil; a curly pink shripe rested in it. Since the spoonful was still hot, Sayuki blew on it gently. She had to be careful with this ajillo. If she didn’t blow hard enough, it would stay so hot it’d literally melt her tongue. However, if she blew too hard, it would freeze.

Hot enough to think she might burn herself, cool enough that the dish wouldn’t actually burn her—Sayuki was well aware of the balance that most enhanced the dish.

All right.

She closed her mouth over the spoonful of ajillo and was immediately in heaven. The fried shripe she bit into was tender. Its exterior was breaded and crispy; the breading tasted like the oil that the ajillo had been cooked in. The spicy rings of red chili pepel went well with the hot white garlik. Both vegetables gave the oil a unique flavor that poured out alongside the shripe’s savory taste.

Sayuki let out a sigh full of the garlik’s unique aroma. That first bite was perhaps the best part of ajillo.

She dipped her spoon back in. The next spoonful included a vegetable with a green stem and dark-green umbrella, not unlike a mashruum. It was an ingredient Sayuki had never once seen in her homeland.

As she ate it, the lightly cooked green vegetable came apart easily; at the same time, a flavor like the freshest plants spread through her mouth. The green vegetable didn’t have the intense saltiness or bitterness of the vegetables that, as far as Sayuki knew, humans generally ate.

Hmm. Vegetables really are delicious.

She spooned up a crimson vegetable. It was soaked in oil, making it shine in the light. When Sayuki bit in, it was a tiny bit sour. She crushed the red vegetable quickly between her teeth, releasing the taste of the ajillo oil as well as a sour flavor. It was different from the green vegetable but also delicious. If you’d ask Sayuki which she preferred, she wouldn’t have known how to answer.

Last but not least were the mashruums. Even in the whitelands, you could find those growing underground. They were brown, like the earth itself, but their flesh was savory. This one in particular had absorbed the flavorful oil, letting Sayuki enjoy its unique texture.

Phew… One at a time. When she first started eating ajillo, Sayuki always took a bite of each ingredient.

She reached for the bread. It had cooled after sitting for a while; still, to a snow woman’s touch, it felt quite warm.

Sayuki broke the brown crust of the bread in half, revealing its white interior. If she ate it as it was, it would’ve been a touch too sweet. Instead, she dipped it into the golden oil. The white bread immediately yellowed.

Sayuki took a bite. The taste of the sweet bread, soaked in the oil infused with the flavor of the shripe and vegetables, exploded in her mouth. Satisfied, Sayuki spooned some ajillo onto the bread.

“More bread, please,” she said to the waitress passing by. She already knew she’d want additional servings.

It’s sweltering. She could tell that eating a hot meal in a heated room was warming her body. She was likely drenched in sweat beneath her coat—extremely uncommon for snow women. Still, it felt great. Sayuki’s secret joy continued until all the ajillo on her plate had vanished.

***

Leaving Nekoya, a blast of cold air enveloped Sayuki as usual. The frigid temperatures in the whitelands would be the death of any living being, but they were necessary for snow women to survive.

Sayuki’s feverish body immediately began to cool. Ah…this feels good.

She pulled off her sweat-drenched clothes and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the frigid cold of the snow and ice. At the end of her visit to the restaurant, that was her final treat.

Chapter 114: Chicken Nanban

Chapter 114:
Chicken Nanban

BY THE TIME LYDIANNE had broken through her shell and crawled into the world, her mother was gone. The only person she could call family was her father, a mage who wasn’t related to her by blood. He’d purchased her egg from an adventurer.

Dense forest surrounded the tower that was both the mage’s research facility and Lydianne’s home. That was the whole world she knew. Whenever her father headed to town to restock the tower, it took days. The mage left Lydianne in charge, and she sometimes found herself lonely.

Ever since she was young, Lydianne’s father had told her she mustn’t ever leave the tower. The one time she’d gone to a nearby town by herself, she was met with screams of terror, and people had chased her with weapons.

After that, Lydianne had decided to learn about who and what she was. She soon realized why things went as they had. Her father had gathered all kinds of books in the tower, and within them was the reason Lydianne could never leave.

According to her father’s books, a lamia was an evil monster with a human woman’s torso and a snake’s tail. Lamia attacked humans; they seduced men, then killed and ate them. Although Lydianne had never once considered eating someone, as she looked down at her black, snakelike body, she realized for the first time—she was a lamia.

After that, she’d made peace with living in the tower, diligently helping with her father’s research. Her father was a half-elf, and they lived centuries, so he’d undoubtedly outlive Lydianne. She swore she’d continue her lifestyle until the day she died, so when her father suddenly perished of a cold, she was completely at a loss.

Fortunately, the tower supported chickens and a garden, so Lydianne and her father could sustain themselves. She could live there as usual for a while, but it wouldn’t last forever. Before he’d passed away, even her father needed to head to town for a few days every year. He’d traded magic stones and paper, medicine he’d made, and medicinal herbs for salt, cloth, and metal tools. Those were hard to find where he and Lydianne lived.

Her father had abandoned the human world, but he knew how to interact with them nonetheless. But Lydianne had no such knowledge or experience.

Lydianne was intelligent, so she knew she’d either live like a monster—like the feared lamia she was—or humans would hunt her down. Her heart sunk at the thought. She was well-read but not world-wise; she knew nothing about the worlds of humans or monsters, nor about the mysterious door that sometimes appeared in the garden.

And so, the day she feared finally arrived.

***

It had all started with a story from Cain’s master. When they set out on their journey, he’d told Cain about a sage who lived in seclusion. He hadn’t given Cain many details but said the sage was a friend of his own master and was a gifted half-elf mage who’d already lived a century.

The mage had built his own tower in the countryside, living there in isolation to avoid the world’s cacophony while conducting research. Mages often resided away from the hustle and bustle of normal folk, polishing their magic alone.

As a half-elf, he knew he’d never be accepted in the human world, regardless of his talent and renowned family. The mage simply saw no value in pursuing magic alongside younger humans with less skill; in the tower, he lived a completely self-sustained life.

However, mages who desired more knowledge, or to exchange techniques, took dangerous pilgrimages to visit cloistered practitioners of magic. Cain, Jack, and Terry were childhood friends-turned-adventurers who often went on laid-back journeys together; this time, they’d decided to visit this mysterious mage.

“So, we’ll meet him and learn some stuff?” asked Jack, the strongest of the three.

“Yup, that’s the plan,” nodded Cain. “But…”

He thought back on what he’d heard the other night in the village where they stayed. Apparently, the mage they were visiting usually came down from his tower each year during the festival to trade for goods he needed. Last year, however, he hadn’t shown up.

Hearing the hesitance in Cain’s tone, Terry—a village chief’s son who’d learned swordsmanship on his own—asked, “You think he might’ve passed away?”

Cain nodded. “Yeah. Master said he was a mage who lived out in the wilds…but he also said to beware the mage’s ‘legacy.’”

It wasn’t uncommon for talented mages to die from injuries, sudden illness, or old age. When that happened, though, it was possible they’d leave behind more than just a corpse. Things like security golems, magical beings raised for research, and demons summoned from other worlds commonly lurked in a mage’s tower. You could even find that the late mage themselves had been left alone so long they were undead.

“So, basically, we have no clue what’s waiting for us? Hell yeah!” Jack grinned in anticipation—after so many adventures with his friends, he seemed convinced of his own invincibility.

Terry, on the other hand, was always cautious. “He might just be in the middle of something and not have made it to the village. Obviously, though, better safe than sorry.”

“Anyway, let’s go check,” Cain said, glancing at his reliable friends. “We won’t find anything out just sitting here.”

The trio of adventurers made their way toward the mage’s tower.

***

The tower stood deep within the woods. It was five stories tall, almost indistinguishable from the trees around it. The simple structure had been made on a stone foundation and built in and around the trees. The land surrounding the tower was fenced and held a small, well-tended garden and a henhouse. The latter was slightly rundown but still looked taken care of.

According to the local villagers, the tower was home only to the mage that the adventurer trio was searching for. He’d been there alone for decades. Adventurers and fellow mages sometimes visited him, but as far as the villagers knew, he didn’t have a wife or children.

“There’s something here,” Cain said as they explored the area near the tower. “Maybe something he couldn’t revea—wha—?!”

The three spun in the direction of a loud sound.

Standing there was a beautiful girl with a terrified expression, holding a water bucket. She had fair skin and long, beautiful black hair that flowed down from her wide-brimmed hat. Her robe covered her legs and feet, and she carried a small cane at her waist. What stood out most, however, was the long snake tail stretching out from under her robe’s hem. The tail, which was longer than the girl was tall, made it crystal clear—she was a lamia.

“Ah…” she gasped. “H-humans?! Thieves?!”

“Hell no!” Jack snapped back at the insult. From the young woman’s perspective, however, they were three heavily armed men in her front yard. Perhaps it was inevitable that she’d assume they were bandits.

“Eek!” Trembling in fear, she turned to flee into the woods.

“P-please wait!” called Cain. “We’re just adventurers here to see Joshua!”

“You live here, right?!” Terry added. “We don’t mean you any harm—even if you are a lamia!”

In response, the girl stopped walking—slithering. They’d hit the mark; she cautiously turned toward the men. “You’ve heard of lamia…?”

She was shivering like a small animal. Still, she’d piqued the adventurers’ curiosity. She probably knows how people see lamia, Cain thought. That’s why she’s so frightened. Truthfully, the friends knew all too well that, under different circumstances, the local villagers would’ve requested that someone slay her long ago.

“Yes, we’ve heard they’re dangerous monsters. But we also know that some can communicate with humans. You’re one of the latter, right?” Cain guessed.

“Y-yes, exactly! I don’t attack people or anything like that.” The girl was eager to show that she wasn’t remotely hostile. “So, um…”

“Would you mind telling us what’s going on? We might be able to help you.”

“A-all right. M-my name’s Lydianne. I’m a mage, like my father.” Lydianne approached the men, still trembling a bit. “M-maybe we should go inside? Right this way.” Sliding past them, she opened the tower door, then turned to invite them in. The three men nodded at each other and strode after the young lamia.

Entering the tower, they saw a large black door in the center of the entrance hall; the strange door had a picture of a cat on it.

Lydianne approached the door, explaining its presence in a rush. “Uh, this…um…started appearing here recently. I don’t know what it is. As long as you don’t touch it, it goes away on its own.”

Powerful magic had been cast on the door. When Lydianne had opened it a crack, bright light flooded out, and she’d felt the presence of a number of people. She’d slammed the black door shut in a panic and hadn’t touched it since. Her fright won out over her curiosity.

Instead of fearing the door, however, the three men drew close and inspected it. A-adventurers sure are brave, thought Lydianne.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Cain. “A door to the Restaurant to Another World! Today’s the day, huh?”

“Man, it really does show up in the weirdest places,” Jack noted. “Is that just coincidence?”

“Beats me,” Terry replied. “But I’ve heard new doors appear in spots where magic gathers. Maybe that’s why.”

For some reason, the three men seemed to be quite familiar with the door. Confused by their reactions and slightly jealous of their easy knowledge, Lydianne guided them deeper into the tower to the space that served as both living and dining room. The chamber was hardly large; inside stood a large table and only a single chair.

“Ah…I-I’m sorry! I don’t sit in chairs. So, um…” Lydianne realized her error too late. “I believe Father had chairs in the study and bedroom.”

Her father had used chairs, but that was tricky for Lydianne. It was usually more comfortable just to coil her tail and stand. She turned to bring some down, frazzled by her first “guests.”

Fortunately, they were understanding. “It’s not a big deal.”

“We’re the ones who just barged in here. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah! We’ll stand.”

“I-I’m so sorry. I usually hid whenever someone visited Father,” Lydianne admitted. Though she’d never hosted guests, she was clearly educated; she had no trouble communicating in human words. “So, um, what brings you here?”

“We hoped to exchange information about magic and so on with Joshua…but it seems he’s passed away, hasn’t he?”

“Yes…about a year ago. But I learned magic from my father. I know a bit about his research.” Lydianne cut herself off, then looked straight at Cain and his friends and asked a question she’d thought of earlier. “Um, if you don’t mind, could you tell me about lamia who can communicate with humans?”

The adventurers had mentioned it in passing, but Lydianne considered the topic extremely important. After all, the received wisdom in their world was that lamia were terrifying monsters that threatened humans’ very existence.

“Well, I’ve never spoken with one. But we’ve seen lamia get along just fine with human men,” Cain replied.

“Yeah. Judging by how those lamia looked, they were probably some kind of noblewomen,” Jack added. “And it was a different lamia each time, so they were probably from a big city or country.”

“From their skin tone, I’d guess the Sand Nation. I’ve heard they have darker skin and wear clothes that are sort of different over there,” Terry interjected.

These men spoke of lamia interacting with humans as if it were completely normal; to them, the “received wisdom” was something else entirely.

“Um…where did you see them?” Lydianne inquired. Where could that possibly be? Perhaps she could find a place that accepted her.

The three men pointed in the direction of the strange door by the tower entrance. “The Restaurant to Another World,” they said in unison.

It was then that Lydianne learned what the door really was.

***

The bell rang as the door opened. Passing through behind the three adventurers, Lydianne entered a room as bright as direct sunlight.

“Huh…?” She narrowed her eyes, surprised.

The room had no windows—it seemed to be underground—yet the air was fresh. It was the perfect temperature and not humid in the least.

And then, of course, there was the crowd of humans and nonhumans present. Lydianne spotted monsters she’d seen in her father’s research books—a lizardman, an ogre, a siren. Huh? Is that an elf and a monster…?

Although no lamia were present, all the monsters in the room were often described as dangerous beasts—yet no one seemed concerned.

Lydianne was still standing shocked when a black-haired girl spoke to her. “Welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya!”

The girl wore a strange outfit. Her skin was darker than Lydianne’s; her features were also very different. She glanced at the lamia’s tail but seemed to pay it no mind, asking “Is this your first time here?”

“Not ours. We already know what we’ll order,” said Cain. The adventurers seemed to have visited this restaurant plenty of times. “But this girl’s new.”

The young woman in the strange clothes—likely a waitress—seemed used to this type of exchange. “Right, of course. Let me take you to your seats.”

Their large table had three chairs, and Lydianne noticed a different waitress carrying another chair away. They’re used to serving lamia, she thought, coiling her tail and standing beside the table.

Lydianne seemed ready to order, so the waitress guided the young lamia a bit. “Um, we serve Western—er—otherworldly dishes here. Have you got any preferences in terms of flavors or ingredients?”

“This place basically has everything from desserts to fish so fresh you actually eat it raw,” Cain added, jumping in to explain the restaurant’s unique qualities.

What should I get? Lydianne wondered. Since she was in another world, should she try something unusual? Or perhaps a dish she couldn’t usually eat that she knew was delicious?

“Um, in that case, I’d like something with chicken and eggs, please,” she said. After thinking for a moment, that was the answer that came most naturally to her.

Foxes had recently annihilated Lydianne’s flock of chickens, so she could no longer eat her favorite food. When she lived with her father, they’d baked their own bread, and they’d boiled or fried the chicken eggs. When a hen couldn’t lay anymore, Lydianne and her father made chicken soup.

“Chicken and eggs—of course. Not everyone’s crazy about rice, so…” The waitress cocked her head, thinking for a second, and then offered Lydianne a dish she’d never heard of. “What about chicken nanban? It’s deep-fried chicken topped with sweet-and-sour nanban sauce and eggy tartar sauce.”

“Um, I’ll have that, then,” Lydianne nodded. She wasn’t familiar with deep-frying, sweet-and-sour sauce, or “eggy tartar sauce”—but that made her tremendously curious to try it all.

“Wonderful! That comes with bread and soup.” The waitress turned to the adventurers. “And what can I get the rest of you?”

“Oh, we’ll all have hamburger sets. And colas for everyone,” replied Jack.

“Right away.” Having taken everyone’s order, the waitress retreated to the kitchen in the back.

“So, what exactly is this place?” asked Lydianne. She’d dropped her guard, and she was dying of curiosity, so all that remained was that fundamental question.

The adventurers began to answer. “This is the Restaurant to Another World,” Cain replied. “It’s a place where people from all over the world eat.”

“Not just humans, either!” said Jack.

“That door we went through earlier appears in all kinds of spots, but they all connect to this restaurant,” explained Terry.

The three were clearly regulars here. This restaurant had actually been the reason they fell in love with the idea of adventuring, so it was tremendously important to them.

“Really?” asked Lydianne.

“Yup! That’s why this place gets guests from all over the world.”

The bell at the door rang, marking the arrival of a new guest. Lydianne turned to look, then froze. Huh?!

A dark-skinned young man and a red-haired lamia were entering the restaurant. A creature the very same as Lydianne sat down as though it were nothing! Her arrival didn’t seem to agitate anyone else. Thinking back, it’d been the same when Lydianne arrived. Other species coming in didn’t faze the Restaurant to Another World’s guests at all.

I see. It’s all right for me to be here. That truth delighted Lydianne.

The dining room had no windows, but it was bright inside, and there was a gentle, cool breeze. The furniture was clean, and there were all kinds of unfamiliar containers on the tables.To Lydianne, who’d only known a cramped life in the tower, it was all so fresh and astounding. She wanted more.

This is another world.

A different waitress delivered their food. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Here’s your chicken nanban and hamburger sets. Enjoy!” Black horns peeked out from beneath the girl’s blonde hair. Was she a demon…?

The waitress gracefully placed down each of their meals. This looks delicious, thought Lydianne.

The chicken gave off a sweet-and-sour aroma that also somehow reminded the lamia of baked bread. It was topped with white-and-yellow sauce; the thinly sliced green vegetables next to the meat brought a splash of color. Beside the plate were some fresh bread and a yellowish soup.

“All right, here we go! This all looks amazing!” cried Cain.

“There ain’t nothing like Nekoya’s burgers,” Jack agreed.

“It’s been a while since we came here, too!” added Terry.

The three happily tucked into their meals—which looked large and bready to Lydianne—so there was no reason for her to hold back. She picked up the silver knife and fork at the side of her plate. I haven’t had chicken in so long.

The thick, translucent brown sauce on the chicken gave off a slight vinegar scent. Invited by its aroma, Lydianne sliced off a large, saucy piece of meat. When she looked at the cut she’d made, she saw that only the chicken’s surface was brown; the flesh was white.

She gulped and took a bite; juices spilled out into her mouth. The chicken skin was crunchy, since it was deep-fried. And the cook must have mixed sugar or honey in, as the vinegar was accompanied by a slight sweetness that brought out the chicken’s mild flavor.

Wha…? Is thisreally chicken meat?! It’s so tender. And it doesn’t smell bad, either!

The chicken Lydianne was familiar with was tougher, and it smelled horrible. Since she’d usually only eaten tough hens too old to lay eggs, there wasn’t really anything she could do about that. But this tender, crunchy chicken meat was completely new to her.

She took another bite, as if compelled by some unseen force to keep eating. This time, she tried a piece of chicken topped with the white-and-yellow sauce. The sauce’s mild, sour flavor combined with the taste of eggs and crunchy, piquant oranie, enveloping the tender fried chicken’s sour and slightly oily taste. The flavors mixed perfectly in Lydianne’s mouth.

The egg sauce alone is so delicious! It even paired well with the cold, crunchy vegetables and absurdly soft bread. With that egg sauce, Lydianne could eat chicken, vegetables, and bread for the rest of her life.

She again ate a bite of chicken alongside a bite of vegetables, then placed both on some bread and took another bite. She tried all kinds of ways of enjoying the meal, quietly putting it away until there was nothing left to eat.

To finish the meal, Lydianne drank the soup that had come with the set; it was sweet, almost like a dessert. She thought she was satisfied.

“We’re ordering more,” said Cain. “What about you?”

Hearing Cain’s offer, Lydianne nodded not once but twice. “I’d like more, too.”

***

After eating two whole servings of chicken nanban, Lydianne was finally full.

She heaved a deep sigh of joy. It felt as if the darkness that clouded her life since her father died had been chased away. For this one moment, she could forget her anxiety about the future.

Shortly thereafter, Lydianne saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

***

“So, I’ve been thinking,” said Cain. “Have you got any interest in becoming an adventurer?”

His question came out of the clear blue sky. “What…?” asked Lydianne, doubting her own ears.

At Cain’s suggestion, the two men beside him nodded.

“Oh—that’s not a bad idea.”

“No, not at all.”

After a stunned moment, Lydianne found her words. “Um…I’m a lamia.”

“I mean, you could just say you’re a demon who’s often mistaken for a lamia ’cause your bottom half’s a snake. Bam!” Jack suggested.

The group heard someone in the restaurant clear their throat but ignored them.

“A demon? Ah…”

Lydianne had read about demons. That they were an evil race that worshiped the Dark Lord; that they were sometimes born to humans and elves. All demons had unique traits that depended on the blessing the Dark Lord had given them, and there were thousands of variations.

“Yup! There are plenty of demon adventurers, and not all of them are baddies. Heck, this place gets plenty of demon guests,” said Jack.

He looked around, prompting Lydianne to do the same. Now that he mentioned it, the demon guests present did have different features from each other. And, in fact, the hardworking waitress nearby was a demon.

I read demons were evil beings who couldn’t get along with humans. But…

Lydianne had to rethink things. If what was written in the books was true, then, as a lamia, she’d never have been able to share a meal with humans. She would’ve been attacking and eating them instead.

“Mm-hmm. If you go alone, someone might realize you’re a lamia. But if you’re with us, I think you’ll be fine,” Jack concluded. “Most townsfolk don’t get into fights with traveling adventurers.”

“This all rides on you not attacking people, of course,” added Cain. “I wouldn’t team up with an evil monster that hurts others. I’d welcome someone kindhearted and knowledgeable, though.”

The three adventurers seemed set on the idea. “All right. I’d be honored to join you!” replied Lydianne, on the verge of tears.

And so, the party gained its fourth member.

***

Later, the demon king did a bit of investigating about an interesting idea he’d overheard. He found that, in his capital, a group of demons living in a corner of the downtown area consisted entirely of women whose bottom halves were the tail of a snake.

Chapter 115: Assorted Waffles

Chapter 115:
Assorted Waffles

ON DAYS OF SATUR, Aletta got a break after lunchtime.

Beside the kitchen, next to the shower room and changing room, was a break room with a plain table and chair, as well as something called a “clock” with two moving sticks. There, Aletta sat down and let herself reflect.

As she rested, her mind went back to Saki, who was covering for her. Saki was a new employee and the master’s niece.

I need to work harder, Aletta thought. I can’t do things like she does.

When Saki introduced herself, she said she just came of age, but she was probably still Aletta’s junior. Even so, as far as Aletta could tell, she was a quick-witted girl who could seemingly do anything.

Saki not only helped the master cook but also—like Aletta—helped clean the restaurant. She wanted to be a chef, so in the mornings, before Nekoya opened, she was always in the kitchen doing prep work like peeling vegetables. The tasks were simple but still helped the master prepare the restaurant’s meals.

And Saki was from the other world, like the master. Not only was she smarter than Aletta, she’d also picked up knowledge by going to “school.” She’d never made a single mistake on a bill, and on top of that, she could read and write the other world’s language. Aletta, on the other hand, still couldn’t do simple math, so she couldn’t calculate bills for customers.

Of course, Aletta had worked at Nekoya for years now, so she was at least confident that she was better than Saki at handling guests and bringing out orders. After all, ever since the master hired her, she’d dealt with customers from all over her world by herself.

Still, when she watched Saki—who could write simple characters, do math, and answer questions about the menu in detail—Aletta couldn’t help thinking that the master’s niece was a far better waitress. Sometimes, she worried the master would someday tell her he didn’t need her anymore.

Consequently, Aletta hadn’t really opened up to Saki. So when the smiling student came over carrying a Flying Puppy box and two ceramic mugs and said “Hey! Crazy out there, right? Can I sit next to you?” the demon girl nodded mostly out of surprise.

“Oh, of course.”

“Whoopsy-daisy!” Saki took a seat casually. “Oh—Uncle told me you really like cocoa, so I got us some. Is that okay?” She handed Aletta a mug.

The cocoa’s sweet aroma brought a smile to Aletta’s face. Remembering that Saki was next to her, she got nervous all over again. “Um, thank you.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s no trouble! I just want to make friends, is all,” Saki said bluntly. The young student was anxious to be on good terms with Aletta. After all, the demon was the first person from the other world Saki had met, as well as one of the only staff members who worked on the Day of Satur.

Aletta sat beside her with a stiff expression. “Huh? I mean, what…?”

She couldn’t help her confusion. There were people in the other world who’d looked out for her—starting with the master himself, and including even Sarah and Shia—but that was because she worked for the restaurant. No one had ever asked to be her friend, so she was at a loss in this situation.

Saki stated her case plainly. “You know—friends. I mean, if you’d rather not, I guess that’s that. But I mean, we’ve already eaten together, haven’t we? Besides, on the Day of Satur, you, me, and Uncle are usually the ones working. I’d love to be friends, if possible.”

Since her first visit to the restaurant, Saki had never been especially scared of Aletta. According to Aletta herself, she was a demon; still, she wasn’t the kind Saki had known from manga or anime—creatures who were bloodthirsty, or covered in gore, or sacrificed people. Nothing about Aletta was different, aside from the horns on her head—she was basically like a coworker born outside Japan. If anything, she was easier to hang out with than some of the exchange students at Saki’s college, because she somehow spoke Japanese fluently.

Aletta smiled awkwardly, but Saki had gotten through to her. “I-In that case, um, I’d love to be friends.”

“Awesome!” Saki smiled back. Aletta still looked stiff as a board, but this was a good first step. “Let’s share these in honor of our new friendship.” Still smiling, she opened the box she’d purchased with her employee discount.

Aletta’s eyes widened. “Huh? Wait…are those slices of cake?”

Inside the box were some sort of baked goods colored light brown, darker cocoa brown, and pink. The top and bottom were sandwiched together with a matching layer of cream. They looked like the “cake” enjoyed by human priests, priestesses, nobility, and a certain demon mercenary.

“They’re similar, but kind of different,” Saki replied. The Flying Puppy cake shop upstairs sold this special set of three “cakes.” They’d looked so delicious that Saki couldn’t help but buy a box, but they were a bit too much to eat by herself.

Reaching into the box, Saki grabbed a “cake” filled with yellow custard. “These are called ‘waffles.’ They’re delicious freshly toasted, but they’re also really good cold,” she explained, splitting the waffle and handing the demon girl the larger half. “Don’t hold back—I need you to eat half. Ha ha ha!”

Aletta looked at Saki with hopeful eyes. “Then, um, thank you, Dark…er, thank you, Saki…” she replied, combining her premeal prayer with her thanks to the other girl in her fluster.

Covering her confusion, Aletta took the waffle and bit into it. The soft, fluffy dough was just a bit sweet, and the sugary cream within had black specks and an eggy taste. It was slightly bitter and smelled a bit like liquor.

The sweet-smelling cream made Aletta drop her guard, and she grinned. This really is wonderful! It wasn’t until she’d started coming to the Restaurant to Another World that she’d learned how fun eating could be. So when she ate good food like this, she naturally smiled.

Wow. She really does look happy when she eats. Saki couldn’t help thinking that Aletta was at her cutest when eating. She halved the next waffle, offering her a piece; Aletta took it happily.

This waffle was dark brown with black cream inside. Looking at it,Aletta thought of one of her favorite foods. Is this chocolate?

When she took a bite, the waffle tasted nothing like she’d expected. It was sweet, but the distinct, aromatic bitterness that usually brought out chocolate’s sweetness was stronger than ever. “Ooh…it’s kind of bitter!”

“Oh—do you not like bitter foods?” Saki’s expression shifted, worried she might’ve made a mistake.

Aletta, however, took another bite. “They’re good!” she replied with a grin. “This is bitter and sweet. It’s delicious!” The bitterness brought out the waffle’s sweetness out even more.

“Right? Okay, this is the last one. There are raspberries in it,” Saki explained, splitting the last waffle and handing it over. The cream within the pretty pink waffle contained deep-red berries.

No longer hesitant, Aletta bit into the waffle. She looked surprised—this time, the filling was ever-so-slightly tangy but far sweeter than the last.

After that initial impression, she tasted a tangy flavor more strongly—the tiny berries mixed with the cream were more sour than sweet. The sharper fruit cleansed Aletta’s palate, helping her pick up on the filling’s sweetness.

It’s sweet and sour! Those two flavors came and went in turn, and the slightly sweet-and-sour dough surrounding the filling made the dessert special. None of the three waffles they’d eaten was just sweet. Naturally, Aletta found herself beaming.

Saki took a sip of hot cocoa. She loved eating good food and felt just as happy watching someone else enjoy it. She found herself smiling, too, enjoying the same experience as Aletta.

Seeing the demon girl grin, Saki thought, I should bring her something new next time.

Chapter 116: Jerky

Chapter 116:
Jerky

THE ACCIDENT HAPPENED at lunchtime. A customer finished eating, paid, and was on her way out of the restaurant, failing to notice she’d left a large bag on her table.

Seeing the bag, Saki called out. “Ah—wait! You forgot something!”

The dog-eared customer, who wore a satisfied expression, had already stepped outside. “Huh?! That’s—” She turned in surprise just as the door closed.

“Crud,” Saki blurted out.

Otherworldly customers could only visit Nekoya on Saturdays. Once they stepped back outside the door, they had to wait a whole week. So, obviously, the soonest Saki could return this customer’s bag was in seven days.

Saki thought the coarse bag had probably been made in the guest’s world. She lifted it; it was quite heavy, probably over a kilogram, and smelled ever so slightly of blood. She looked inside at the contents—a large lump wrapped in leaves. “Some kind of meat,” she guessed, based on the pink stains seeping across the leaves. “It’s totally raw, isn’t it?”

The master noticed Saki standing with a befuddled look on her face and a bag in her hands. Passing a finished order to Aletta, he came over. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“A customer left this,” Saki explained. “What should we do, Uncle? It’s definitely raw.” She didn’t know what kind of meat it was, but they couldn’t just leave it sitting around the restaurant.

“Sure is. We can put it in the fridge for now, I suppose,” the master decided.

***

That evening, the master removed the bag from the fridge and opened it, tilting his head. “Raw meat, huh? What’re we going to do with it?” he mused to Saki and Aletta. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen this kind of meat before.”

The master regularly purchased meat and other groceries from Thomas of the Alfade Company, so perhaps this was a rare variety far out of reach of even someone living in the capital like Thomas. The master wasn’t sure what animal the pink lump of lean meat came from, but from the cut, it looked like a brisket.

It’d be a week before the bag’s owner could come pick it up, and since the meat was raw, keeping it in the fridge wouldn’t be adequate. Faced with a meat he’d never prepared, the master struggled to come up with an idea.

“What about putting it in the freezer?” Saki suggested.

“There’s too much meat for that.” The master shook his head at her. “Besides, freezing it would be fine till the customer picked it up, but once she defrosted it on the other side, she’d have to use it all at once.”

“Really? But customers like those long-eared folks always buy pudding and grilled rice balls that need to be refrigerated, don’t they?” Saki asked. She’d heard that the lizardmen who usually ordered three servings of omelet rice to-go shared their orders with the whole tribe. Maybe the people she saw buying pudding and rice balls did the same.

“I don’t know the details, but those customers use preservation magic to keep things fresh. That apparently isn’t the norm over there, though.”

The master thought back on a story he’d heard from an old mage, a regular who’d been around since the restaurant opened. The mage said there was a type of magic that preserved food for centuries. However, it was fairly high level; only tremendously skilled mages, or species like elves that excelled at magic, could wield it. According to the old mage, the guests ordering pudding to go had been the former, and the guests ordering grilled rice balls were the latter.

“Um, that’s right,” agreed Aletta. “I haven’t really heard of preserving food with magic. Sarah might’ve mentioned an elven magic item that did something like that, but it apparently cost an arm and a leg.”

Since she’d started working for Sarah, Aletta had learned a bit about how magic worked. Sarah had taught her all sorts of things, being an adventurer herself. And, as the daughter of a merchant family that dealt in magic items, her sister Shia has shared plenty with Aletta as well. Thus, Aletta now understood that though the objects in Nekoya were strange, they were not, in fact, magic items.

“Then what should we do?” asked Saki.

The master went silent in thought. They knew who’d forgotten the bag—a dark-skinned customer with dog ears and a tail who always ordered Spanish omelets. Judging by experience, she’d be back next week or the week after, and she didn’t seem well-versed in magic.

“I could make this into jerky,” the master proposed. “That’d be better than letting it spoil.” He was hesitant to cook meat belonging to the customer without her go-ahead. But since the meat in the bag was raw, and the customer couldn’t grab it for at least a week, he had no choice but to preserve it.

“You know how to do that?” asked Saki.

The master nodded. “Yup! Gramps, the old master, was the type who absolutely had to try making a delicious dish at least once on his own. He ended up dragging me into that a lot.”

The master had childhood memories of his grandfather constantly making unusual foods on days off, either at home or at the restaurant. Dishes that turned out well ended up on the menu or served as daily specials, while failed experiments simply became fond memories.

“Wow.” Watching a smile rise on her uncle’s face as he spoke, Saki could see how precious those memories were.

“It’s been a while since I last smoked meat. I should be able to make jerky from this stuff in a week, though,” added the master, who looked ready to start. His grandfather had been particularly fond of jerky—he’d tried making it from all kinds of meat—so the master was certain he could find a recipe that suited the cut in front of him.

***

Adelia was standing in front of Nekoya’s door, as always. Thinking back on what’d happened seven days earlier, however, made her hesitate. “Jeez. What am I going to do?”

It’d all started when she’d slain a flying dragon that appeared in town. Flying dragons were frequently called “false dragons.” Their forms mirrored the gods’, but false dragons lacked the latter’s intelligence and ability to breathe fire. They were extremely vicious. Only someone who could soar through the air could fight false dragons with any ease, so Adelia had defeated it using the wings, talons, and tail she’d acquired through the Lord of Green’s power.

False dragons were fierce foes, but their bodies were extremely useful. Their scales could produce armor harder than steel. Leather acquired from flying dragon carcasses made for tough coats, and their bones and tendons were great for crafting powerful bows.

Adelia had felled the flying dragon with a powerful kick, cracking its skull and sending it tumbling to the ground. Its carcass was butchered and given to the townsfolk. Since Adelia’s physical strength exceeded the power of any equipment that could be crafted from the carcass, the locals had given her a ton of dragon meat instead.

Adelia was a beast person with the blood of wolves flowing through her, so she didn’t mind eating meat, up to a point. However, she’d received too much to eat dried, given dried dragon meat’s saltiness. Even if she shared the meat with Carlos and the others, she still would’ve had way too much for her lifestyle in the mountains.

Adelia had then thought of some friends who might appreciate the dragon meat. Her fatal mistake had been remembering that idea after exiting the restaurant; she’d meant to tell the master about her gift for him and his employees before she left.

According to a human she’d gotten to know at Nekoya, the master held on to items forgotten at the restaurant for years at a time. He wouldn’t just take something without confirming that it was a gift. But the dragon meat wouldn’t last long raw. Now, seven days later, Adelia was sure it would be spoiled.

“Still, I have to say something,” she murmured. She steeled herself. Opening the door to the sound of a bell ringing, she passed through. Aletta, the waitress with horns like those of a follower of Chaos, noticed Adelia right away.

“Welcome, uh…Adelia!” she said, face surprised. “Um, do you have a moment? The master told me to let him know as soon as you came back. It’s about the bag you forgot last time.”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Adelia smiled apologetically. She assumed they’d treated the bag like a forgotten item, since she left it without explaining. “Um, I’m really sorry about all this. It’s…”

Aletta’s response wasn’t what Adelia expected. “Um…so, the master preserved the meat in the bag. He’d like you to take it home with you.”

Adelia cocked her head. “You mean…he dried the meat?” She realized that the restaurant cooked more than just the Spanish omelets she loved, but she hadn’t known it sold preserved foods.

“It looks like dried meat, but…well, the master said he didn’t want to feed a customer anything that tasted weird. So, he got me to try it, and it was delicious! Let me take you to a table.”

“Oh…all right,” said Adelia. “Huh.”

Aletta’s words were a relief; the meat apparently hadn’t gone to waste. If it was still good, Adelia wanted everyone at the restaurant to have some. Before she could say as much, Aletta left to call the master. Soon he came out holding the bag of preserved meat.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Adelia said.

“The raw meat wouldn’t have lasted until you came back, so…”

“No, no—it’s fine that you preserved it! Actually, I’d gotten my hands on some fairly rare meat. I couldn’t eat it all myself, so I wanted to share it with you,” she explained. “I forgot to tell you before I left last time, though.”

“Wait—really?”

Adelia’s words were a relief to the master, since he’d touched a customer’s property without asking. Luckily Adelia was fine with it; he couldn’t have done anything if she’d been displeased.

“Hmm…that does present a puzzle,” the master continued. “I made this jerky specifically for you.”

The jerky tasted perfectly fine; he’d checked the flavor and was quite happy with it. But since Adelia brought the meat to Nekoya specifically for him and his employees, just giving it back would be rude. Still, as far as the master was concerned, it’d be weird to keep all of something he’d planned to return since last week.

“Well, that meat was for you guys. So, please, enjoy it.” Adelia smiled.

“Hmm.” After thinking for a moment, the master came up with a solution. “Since we got our hands on something rare, how about we share it?”

“Huh? No, it’s totally fine,” Adelia demurred.

“To be totally honest, when I made this, I really hoped you’d give it a try,” the master continued. “I’ve never made jerky with that cut of meat before, so I was eager to see what someone else from the other side thought. Aletta, one of the waitresses, said it was delicious. It might not be your thing, but could you try it anyway?”

Adelia felt it’d be rude to keep turning the master down at this point. She nodded. “All right, if you insist.”

“Thank goodness. I’ll bring some out after your meal. What would you like today?” the master asked with a smile.

“Uh, the usual, please.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Adelia enjoyed her Spanish omelet to its fullest. Afterward, the master brought her a pretty box full of her portion of the gift they’d shared. She took it home just after noon.

***

The next day, in her simple room, Adelia shot a puzzled look at the gift she’d received from the master. Inside the box was a bag of a material she’d never seen. It was clear enough to see through and had been tightly sealed without a string or seaweed.

“What’s this made from?” she murmured. According to the master, if I pull the top parts of the bag to the sides, it’ll open. And if I pinch the round part running across the top and slide it, I can close it.

Within the see-through bag was what appeared to be thinly shaved dried meat made from the raw flying dragon Adelia had left at the restaurant. The meat had originally been pink but was now as dark as her own skin.

Dried meat, huh?

The flying dragon was seasoned with who knew what. Upon further inspection, the red dots decorating the meat were likely a spice. Adelia sniffed them; they were, in fact, chili pepels. Their smell mixed with the scent of garlik, a vegetable often used at the Restaurant to Another World.

To a beast person like Adelia with a great sense of smell, the dried meat also had a mysterious aroma—the same scent that came from a few dishes served at Nekoya. She tried to suss out the seasoning from smell alone.

If I remember right, one of the bottles on the restaurant tables has the same scent. I think it’s called soy sauce. Many moons ago, the master had told Adelia that soy sauce was used to flavor certain dishes, but was tremendously salty and often didn’t complement the foods Nekoya served.

Dragon meat itself was uncommon, so overall, Adelia couldn’t be sure how the master had seasoned it. Yet she also knew he’d never give her something unappetizing; he always served customers bizarre-but-delicious dishes.

I suppose I’ll give it a shot. Determined, Adelia bit into a piece of jerky.

Yeah…it’s salty. However, the taste was different from plain salt. It permeated the jerky completely and fused with the spicy chili pepel and aromatic garlik, creating a totally unfamiliar flavor. Mmm…but it’s actually kind of good.

As the beast woman’s powerful jaw chewed the jerky, its flavor transformed. The bone-dry meat moistened in her mouth, and flavor poured out with each bite. Dragon meat was typically lean and mildly flavored, but the dried meat’s strong seasonings gave it a gentle but rich taste. Adelia felt as if she wanted to keep chomping on it forever.

Soon, she swallowed the meat and its mysterious flavor. When the jerky vanished from her mouth, its taste did, too, which left Adelia feeling slightly abandoned. If someone had asked her whether she was satisfied, she would’ve answered that she wasn’t.

Alone and silent, Adelia repeatedly reached for the next morsel of jerky, putting each piece in her mouth and reviving the flavor once more.

Before she knew it, the transparent bag was empty. “Darn…it’s all gone. Too bad.” She rubbed her stomach. The dried dragon meat had satisfied her hunger, but at the same time, she still wanted a little more.

“When I have the chance, I should bring the restaurant staff another gift,” Adelia murmured. Opportunities to defeat false dragons weren’t particularly common, but if she happened to find herself blessed with one again, she’d definitely ask the master whether she could pay him to make dragon jerky for her.