Eddie had been unusually busy for the first time in a while.
He had to take care of a cute cat—well, not so little anymore—and also plan and test a new menu item.
Thankfully, the “cat” seemed to have settled down a bit, and the new dish was decided. All that was left was preparing to serve it.
No matter how capable Gerold was, it wouldn’t be right to expect him to cook something completely new without guidance. So Eddie’s task for the day was to make it himself and set an example.
“Hm.”
Eddie surveyed the ingredients he’d carefully selected, spread out before him.
Right now, his inn’s reputation in the capital was probably something like “that weird place with the quirky drinking snacks,” or “the inn that gives out amazing milk for free,” or even “the one with the stingy owner who insists on only giving out one of those damn milks.”
Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t a great cook.
His skills were average at best—on the level of a guy who’d lived alone and cooked for himself just enough to not starve.
When he felt like cooking, he’d usually just look up a simple recipe on YouTube that matched whatever ingredients he already had.
– “If you don’t have it, you can skip it~”
He’d taken that advice to heart, leaving out countless ingredients and cooking by feel. It was fine for personal meals, but definitely not on a sellable level.
But what if that kind of food—ordinary and basic back home—was exotic and unique in a distant foreign land?
Then there’d be a market for it.
There had to be.
Because Eddie was the one supplying it now.
Thinking that, Eddie stepped out of the kitchen to take a breather—and saw a large figure awkwardly standing halfway down the stairs, peeking down at the first floor.
“…!”
The moment their eyes met, Ketron stepped back up a stair, like he thought that might somehow hide him.
…Did he really think that would work? With that massive frame?
Eddie tilted his head for a moment, then shrugged it off and spoke with a bright smile.
“Ket, perfect timing. I was just about to try making a new menu item, but I’m a little short on hands. Want to help?”
It wasn’t even the kind of dish that actually needed help. But if Ketron was willing to break out of his own cage, Eddie was more than willing to help him smash it open.
Ketron didn’t respond.
But the fact that he’d left his room at all meant he had taken a step on his own. Eddie made the offer again.
“Let’s eat together after we’re done. What do you say?”
There was a heavy silence between them.
Ketron’s expression was the usual stoic mask, but there was a faint shift—like a flower petal landing on a still lake.
And then, he nodded.
* * *
Eddie had picked two menu items.
One was udon.
The other, soy sauce egg rice.
They were so common that he wondered if it would even work, but Eddie was convinced these two were a godsend.
Filling enough to cover carbs, easy on the stomach, priced and portioned for a light breakfast.
Most importantly, dishes he could reliably cook even as a rookie innkeeper.
“Mm, it would’ve been better with fried tofu.”
Unfortunately, the udon he had on hand was just a basic version—broth, noodles, and some fishcake. He added a little shichimi on top for flavor.
Well, what he lacked now he could always improve later. You don’t fill your stomach with one spoonful, after all.
Ketron looked around the kitchen with awkward curiosity, clearly unfamiliar with the place.
Understandable.
He’d spent his childhood drifting through back alleys, his youth as a mercenary, and after obtaining the sacred sword, he’d been adventuring across the continent. Of course a normal kitchen would feel foreign.
“Ket, can you boil this for me?”
Eddie assigned him a simple task—boiling the udon noodles.
There were no alarm clocks or timers here, so Eddie gave him a vague instruction.
“Turn off the heat when the noodles are cooked ‘just right’.”
The problem was, Ketron had hardly ever cooked before.
The most he’d done was tear up jerky and stir some thin soup over a fire. So gauging when noodles were “just right” was a tall order.
But Eddie gave him the task like it was no big deal—like it was the easiest thing in the world. And Ketron didn’t have the heart to say no. So he hesitantly accepted the udon noodles.
“……”
He awkwardly held the thick, round noodles, then slowly dropped them into the pot. After fumbling with the water and finally managing to light the stove, he started boiling them.
Meanwhile, Eddie set out side dishes and started cooking rice. Thankfully, he had raw rice stocked in the store, so he could make it fresh.
Of course, if he were to serve this regularly, he’d probably use pre-cooked rice for convenience. But since this was also their shared meal, he wanted to do it properly.
Hmm, what should I serve instead of kimchi? Pickled radish or burdock root pickles? Maybe a salad. One dessert. That should be enough. Though it still feels too simple… maybe I’ll add a couple pieces of short rib patty.
As Eddie set the table and weighed options, he glanced back to check on Ketron—who was now staring down into the pot with an extremely serious face.
At the noodles, now overinflated and borderline disintegrating in the water.
“…Ket?”
When he turned at the call, his expression was blank—like he didn’t even realize something had gone wrong.
“You were… trying to cook the noodles more?”
As if waiting for permission, Ketron lifted the pot. When he poured out the water, it was so cloudy from overcooking that it looked like the noodles had melted into it.
What remained were broken, soggy strands that looked more like hand-torn dough than noodles.
“……”
“……”
At this point, even Ketron realized something was off. He glanced at Eddie, clearly checking for a reaction.
Eddie paused, then smiled brightly.
“You like your noodles extra soft, huh?”
“Uh, yeah…”
Ketron couldn’t bring himself to argue. Preferences on noodle firmness? He’d never cared. He was the kind of person who would eat anything as long as it was edible.
He shrank a little.
He’d been given a task that looked simple enough—and failed. He, the man who’d conquered the Demon King, had lost to udon noodles.
Eddie could practically see the invisible cat ears on Ketron’s head drooping. So he quickly jumped in.
“I like mine a little chewy. Can you boil one more for me—just a bit less this time?”
Saying that, Eddie handed him another bundle of noodles from the pile.
Ketron filled a separate pot and started boiling again.
“You nailed the water amount!”
Eddie complimented him as he watched.
Truth be told, the amount of water didn’t matter all that much, but he said it anyway.
This time, before the noodles were even close to done, Ketron reached for the pot again. Eddie, watching closely, cut in right away.
“Ah—just a bit more. I like them a little more cooked.”
So Ketron waited longer this time, occasionally glancing over with anxiety.
Is this enough? Is it done? His eyes asked.
Eddie stepped in at just the right moment.
“That looks perfect.”
With that, Ketron hurriedly poured the noodles into the sink. They were plump, springy, and properly cooked.
Eddie praised him enthusiastically.
“Seriously, you nailed it. Totally my style. Thanks, Ket.”
While the rice finished cooking and Eddie completed the side dishes, he mixed the udon broth in hot water. Ketron transferred the noodles to bowls and sprinkled on shichimi. The end result looked like a proper bowl of udon.
“Let’s eat?”
The two of them moved the dishes to the table.
While Eddie went to call Gerold, Ketron stared at the spread.
Two black sauce bottles with illegible symbols and writing, two raw eggs, two fried eggs, an unidentifiable salad, some mysterious yellow item, meat that looked unfamiliar but definitely was meat, and a towering pile of rice.
And the udon they’d made together—one bowl with firm, glossy noodles, the other with sad, swollen strands floating apart.
It was way too much for three people. Easily six servings.
…Do they eat that much?
Tilting his head, Ketron quietly took a seat in front of the food.