The sun slowly sank beyond the western horizon of Odelia City, leaving behind a beautiful yet ominous orange glow—especially for someone like me, who had no place to stay.
In my old world, this was usually the time I'd be arguing with strangers in social media comment sections or boiling water for instant noodles.
Now?
I was standing in a narrow alley behind a mid-range inn called "The Cheerful Roast Pig", staring blankly at a pile of firewood and several raw ingredients Elena had just bought.
"So… Miss Elena," I cleared my throat, trying to break the awkward silence.
"You really want me to cook here? Out in the open? With this pan?"
Elena, who was sitting on a wooden crate while cleaning her small dagger, looked up.
The sunset reflected off her silver armor, making her look like a resting war goddess.
Her gaze, however, was still as cold as the polar ice caps.
"You have a license with the 'Survival' talent, don't you?" she said flatly.
"If you can't process food in the wild, that license is better used as a shoe insole. Cook. I paid your entrance tax—now repay me with results."
I swallowed hard.
The problem wasn't the location—it was the equipment.
All I had was a frying pan whose bottom was darker than my future. No spatula. No kitchen knife (unless I dared borrow Elena's very sharp-looking dagger). No seasoning either, aside from coarse salt wrapped in old newspaper.
[Ding!]
[Low-Level Panic Detected.]
[Suggestion: Rely on your chef instincts. Remember—great dishes are born from the cook's suffering.]
"System, please! Give me a recipe or something!" I screamed internally.
[Passive Skill Unlocked: "Forbidden Kitchen Alchemist."]
[Description: You may put anything into the pan. Taste is not guaranteed, but side effects are.]
"Side effects?! Hey—!"
But Elena was already staring at me with a dangerously hungry look.
I knew that if food didn't appear soon, my head might end up on that firewood pile instead.
With trembling hands, I started the fire.
Thankfully, my old Boy Scout camping experience wasn't completely useless.
The ingredients Elena bought were surprisingly luxurious for a newcomer:
a chunk of wild boar meat, several root vegetables resembling carrots but purple in color, and a faintly glowing mushroom she claimed was a "Stamina Mushroom."
"Okay, Rian. Focus. Treat this like Cooking Mama—Hardcore Mode," I muttered.
I sliced the boar meat using the edge of my frying pan—which was oddly sharp now (probably from beating too many slimes). I threw in the fat first to extract oil.
Sssssss!
The smell of sizzling fat filled the alley.
So far, so good.
Then I made a fatal mistake.
I tossed the entire glowing mushroom into the pan.
Suddenly, neon-green smoke began billowing out.
"Rian… what kind of smoke is that?" Elena asked, instinctively gripping her sword.
"T-this… this is a modern smoking technique, Miss!" I lied while stirring with a wooden branch.
"This smoke is full of… vitamins!"
[Ding!]
[Warning: Chemical Reaction Detected.]
[Stamina Mushroom + Wild Boar Fat + Rusty Pan = Failed Speed-Boost Potion.]
[Dish Result: "Trembling Wild Boar Stir-Fry."]
I no longer cared.
I added the purple roots, dumped in as much salt as possible to mask the strange flavor, and kept stirring until the color changed from neon green to a suspicious dark brown.
After fifteen minutes of battling smoke and fire, I plated the dish on a large, clean leaf.
"Please enjoy, Miss Elena. Bon appétit," I said with a forced smile.
Elena stared at the pile of meat.
It was trembling.
Physically.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Why is the meat moving on its own, Rian? Is the boar not completely dead?"
"T-that's called 'Dancing Meat,' Miss. It means the nutrients are reacting with the air. Very fresh!"
She picked up a piece using her dagger.
After a brief pause—and a look that clearly said if I die, you die—she put it into her mouth.
I held my breath.
The system interface began flickering yellow.
One second.
Two seconds.
Elena's eyes widened.
Her pale face suddenly turned bright red.
Her body began to tremble—just like the meat.
"Rian…" her voice shook.
"Y-yes, Miss?" I was already preparing to run.
"It feels… like thousands of horses are running inside my stomach!"
Suddenly, Elena stood up with such force that the wooden crate shattered into pieces.
She began moving at an impossible speed—one moment in front of me, the next at the end of the alley, then back again.
"This power—what did you put into this food?!" she shouted, throwing punches into the air.
Each strike created a loud sonic boom.
[Ding!]
[Dish Effect Activated: "Hyper-Active Stamina."]
[Agility increased by 300% for 10 minutes.]
[Side Effect: Target cannot stop talking and will experience intense nasal itching.]
"It worked!" I shouted happily.
"Rian! I feel incredibly strong! I feel like I could split a mountain! But why does my nose itch so much?! And why can't I stop talking?! You know, this armor is actually a bit tight around the waist and I absolutely hate the knight instructor in the capital because he always smells like garlic and did you know I actually like pink but I have to wear silver to look cool—"
She kept talking.
And talking.
At the speed of a professional rapper.
She spilled every secret—from secretly loving pastries to her fear of forest cockroaches.
I could only stand there in shock.
The frying pan in my hand felt heavier now.
"System… this is incredible. I could become the best buffer in this world!"
[System Message: Do not get cocky. Look behind you.]
I turned around.
The commotion—and the neon-green "vitamin smoke"—had attracted unwanted guests.
At the end of the alley stood three burly adventurers—the same ones who had mocked me at the Guild.
"Well, well. Look who it is," said the bearded leader.
"The Pan Cook and the knight who looks completely drunk."
They laughed.
They clearly didn't realize Elena was in Hyper-Active mode.
"Hey, pretty lady. Why stick with trash like him? Come with us—we've got better meat that doesn't wiggle," one of them said, reaching for Elena's shoulder.
Elena stopped talking instantly.
Her nose twitched.
Her irritation had peaked.
"You…" she stared at them, her blue eyes now glowing white.
"You interrupted my story about my bunny doll collection."
WUSH!
In the blink of an eye—literally—Elena vanished.
SMACK! BAM! THUD!
Three heavy impact sounds rang out in rapid succession.
Before the adventurers could draw their weapons, they were already flying into a pile of trash outside the alley.
They passed out instantly, each with a bright red handprint on their face.
Elena returned to stand before me, panting.
The speed effect faded, leaving her face cold once more—this time mixed with overwhelming embarrassment as she realized she had just confessed her secrets to me.
Silence filled the alley.
"Rian," she said in a dangerously low voice.
"Y-yes, Miss?"
"If you ever tell anyone about… my bunny dolls… or the fact that my armor is tight…"
She leaned close.
"I will make sure that frying pan is the last thing you ever see."
I nodded so fast my neck nearly snapped.
"I swear, Miss! I didn't hear anything! I was… uh… busy counting ants!"
Elena took a deep breath, restoring her shattered dignity.
She glanced at the unconscious adventurers.
"At least your trash food was useful. We leave for the Ancient Ruins early tomorrow. Prepare yourself."
She walked back toward her room in the inn, leaving me alone in the dark alley.
I stared at my pan.
Some wild boar meat was still trembling.
I tasted a bit.
"Ugh… it tastes like old tires soaked in vinegar," I spat.
"How did she swallow that?"
[Ding!]
[Quest Completed: "Pass the Test Without Shaming Human Dignity."]
[Reward Granted: Scribbled Map of Odelia City & Corpse-Flower-Scented Soap.]
I sighed.
At least I had soap now.
But when I checked my status again—
[Corruption Meter: 0.07%]
It had only risen slightly.
Yet every time it increased, I felt something pulsing inside my heart.
Something… cold.
Very cold.
"Probably just a side effect of that green smoke," I thought lazily, yawning.
I didn't know that in the darkness of the alley, a small black shadow shaped like my own face was smiling—waiting for the day when the pan would no longer be used to cook meat, but to hold blood.
That was a story for later.
For now, I needed a bath.
The mix of body odor and roasted boar wasn't doing much for my image as a hero (wrong server).
"Hey, System! Don't give me trash gacha tomorrow, okay?!" I shouted at the night sky.
[Ding!]
[Request Processed… Tomorrow's Gacha Result: 99.9% Trash. Good night, Master Rian.]
"Damn you!"
That night, beneath the unfamiliar sky of Aethoria, I slept while hugging my frying pan—dreaming of piles of instant noodles I never got to eat in my old world.