It took me half a day just to decide on a channel name.
“Countryside Slow-Life Food. No, that doesn’t feel right.”
Sitting on the veranda, I muttered to myself while glaring at my smartphone.
Yesterday’s stream was, no matter how I looked at it, an accident.
I had intended to record a cooking video, but it turned into a live stream. Before I knew it, strangers were having a blast in the comments section, and the sight of me grilling horned rabbit with miso, and the way Mikoto, that white cat, ate, was strangely going viral.
When I woke up this morning, my notifications looked like they had broken.
The number of subscribers should have been around two hundred as of last night, but it has already surpassed three thousand.
“The internet is scary.”
“If you find it scary, you should quit.”
Mikoto, who had been curled up on my lap, tapped my wrist with her tail.
“Don’t say that so easily. I need the income, the income.”
“Then make food. Your food makes my stomach growl just by looking at it.”
“Even if a divine beast praises me, I don’t know what your standards are.”
“Hmph. You are a rude human.”
Mikoto flattened her ears in dissatisfaction, but she immediately stretched out on my lap.
Her white coat had regained much more luster than it had yesterday. Her wounds had almost entirely closed, too. I do not know if it was the effect of that horned rabbit meat and miso, or if it was simply because she was a divine beast, but her recovery was fast.
Regardless, just having her here made my late grandmother’s old house look a little brighter.
“Countryside Monster Cafeteria.”
I suddenly said it aloud.
I, a returnee from another world, cook monsters in the countryside.
It was not exaggerated, nor was it trying too hard to look cool.
Above all, it was the closest thing to what I wanted to do right now.
It was not about revenge.
It was not about wanting to show them all up.
I just did not want to fight while constantly watching someone else’s face.
I did not want to swing a sword just because someone commanded me to.
When I am hungry, I make food. When a magical beast ravages the fields, I drive it away. And I eat the leftover meat if it is delicious.
I felt like I was allowed to live a life like that.
“Alright. I will go with this for the channel name.”
I operated my smartphone and changed the name.
Countryside Monster Cafeteria.
As I looked at the string of characters I had entered, I felt strangely resolute.
“I will be the signboard cat, is that alright?”
“You call yourself a signboard cat?”
“I am a divine beast signboard cat. The status is different.”
“Yes, yes.”
I laughed and gently patted Mikoto’s head.
That morning, I decided to clean up the barn behind my grandmother’s house.
The barn was where my grandfather used to keep farm equipment and firewood. The wooden door did not fit well, and when I opened it, the smell of damp wood and dust rushed out.
“Ugh, this is going to be tough.”
Old hoes, rusted sickles, broken flowerpots, half-used fertilizer bags. Along the wall, there was even a jar of pickled plums from who knows when.
Cobwebs hung from the ceiling beams, and dust danced slowly in the shafts of light.
“You intend to turn this into a cafeteria?”
Mikoto sat at the entrance and tilted her head.
“It is less of a cafeteria and more of a makeshift kitchen for streaming. The kitchen in the main house is too small, and it is full of Grandma’s things. I will clean this place up and put a prep table and a stove here.”
“Oh. Then I require a place to sit as well.”
“A signboard cat seat?”
“Naturally.”
Apparently, it was natural.
I rolled up my sleeves while letting out a wry smile.
I spent the entire morning separating things I could use from things I should throw away.
I carried the broken wooden boxes outside, piled up the rusted farm tools, swept the floor, knocked down the cobwebs on the walls, opened the windows, and let the air circulate.
The wind coming down from the mountains was a little cold and pushed the damp smell out slowly.
By late morning, the barn looked surprisingly clean.
I repurposed an old door panel for the workstation and laid a washed stainless steel sheet on top. I lined up two portable butane stoves, and for water, I used a plastic tank and a portable sink. It was still far from what one would call a proper cafeteria, but for a soft opening, it was enough.
Next to the entrance, I placed a small round stool that my grandfather had used in the past.
Mikoto jumped onto it and puffed out her chest.
“Not bad.”
“You look quite full of yourself, like a shop owner.”
“You are the cook. I am the signboard.”
“Am I not the owner of this shop?”
While we were having that exchange, the sound of a light truck engine approached from outside.
Parked in front of the gate was Mr. Shibata, who owned the field next door. He was a man in his mid-sixties with a sun-tanned face. It seemed he used to bring vegetables over often when my grandmother was still alive.
Mr. Shibata peered into the barn and furrowed his brows.
“Yuma-kun, what are you intending to start?”
“I was thinking of doing some food streaming.”
“Streaming?”
At that word, Mr. Shibata’s expression turned even more sour.
“The kind you show to people in the city? I hope you are not planning on making a mockery of this village.”
“I am not filming the village. Just the spot where I am cooking.”
“I heard the young people making a fuss yesterday about you eating monsters. It will be problematic if you start doing strange things.”
It was not a tone of accusation.
However, there was clear wariness.
It was understandable. If a former explorer who suddenly returned started cleaning out a barn and talking about streaming and monster cooking, it would normally be suspicious.
“I will not cause any trouble. It is only vermin caught on private property. I will not be doing requests from the Explorer Guild or entering deep into the mountains.”
My license had been suspended.
Therefore, I could not take on monster subjugation requests from the Guild, nor could I explore restricted zones.
But driving away vermin that ravaged the fields on my own land or on private land where I had received permission was different. Of course, if it were a dangerous individual, it would be a matter for the town office or the hunters’ association, but as for the low-level magical beasts that appeared around here, farmers often handled them with traps.
Mr. Shibata crossed his arms and looked at Mikoto in the back of the barn.
“And that white cat?”
“Meow.”
Mikoto meowed with a perfect cat voice.
Even though she had been talking so arrogantly until just a moment ago.
“I protected her because she was injured.”
“That is a very beautiful cat. She looks like the white cat that used to be at the shrine.”
“A shrine?”
“Yeah, the old shrine at the edge of the mountain. In the past, there was a story that a white beast protected the village, but no one goes there anymore. The stone steps are overgrown too.”
Mikoto’s ears twitched.
Mr. Shibata did not dig any deeper, and left saying, “Well, just do not do anything strange.”
Watching his back as he left, I let out a breath.
“Well, that is how it would be, isn’t it?”
“People are creatures that doubt. If their stomachs are full, they will relax a bit.”
“Mikoto, do not say that like it is some profound truth.”
“It is the truth, in fact.”
In the afternoon, the opportunity to test that truth arrived.
Mr. Shibata returned in his light truck again. This time, he had a slightly flustered look on his face.
“Yuma-kun, sorry. Regarding what we talked about earlier, could you take a look at my field?”
“My field?”
“A small tusked-boar has entered. It is caught in a trap, but it is still thrashing about. It is dangerous if I am alone.”
A tusked-boar.
There were individuals similar to them in the other world. The ones that appear in Japan were small, magical beasts that seemed like ordinary boars mixed with magical power. They had sharp tusks and great charging power. They were among the most troublesome types of vermin that ravaged fields.
“The location is your field, Mr. Shibata, right?”
“Yes. It is my private property.”
“I understand. I will drive it away. If it is dangerous, I will finish it off.”
“Can you do it?”
“I can.”
I did not use a sword.
I did not carry exaggerated equipment.
I took thick work gloves and a sturdy hatchet my grandfather used to use from the barn. Furthermore, I slipped a short skinning knife I had brought back from the other world into my belt.
It was not to fight.
It was to protect the field.
Mr. Shibata’s field was about a ten-minute walk from the house.
It was a field on a slope near the mountains, where rows of taro leaves had been knocked down and the soil was messily dug up. Ahead of the muddy tracks, a blackish lump was thrashing about, trap and all.
It was a size smaller than a normal boar.
However, the tusks extending from its mouth were coated with a thin film of magical power.
“Please step back.”
I put Mr. Shibata behind me.
The tusked-boar faced us.
The moment our eyes met, I knew it would charge.
Its body, which had been about to tear off the trap, sprang up.
I shifted half a step to the side, dodged its snout, and delivered a palm strike to the vital point on its neck. I did not use magical power. It was just body movement I had learned until I was sick of it in the other world.
The tusked-boar took a few steps with its momentum, tangled its legs, and collapsed.
I approached the individual that was still trying to move and finished it off in one breath so it would not suffer.
Silence returned to the field.
Mr. Shibata stood frozen with his mouth wide open.
“What did you just do?”
“Vermin extermination.”
“No, that is not what I meant.”
I laughed wryly.
“Can I use the meat? It is an edible individual.”
“You are going to eat this?”
“It will be delicious if you bleed and process it properly. Let us at least get something back for the field being ravaged.”
Mr. Shibata was still skeptical, but eventually, he nodded.
In the evening, smoke rose from the makeshift kitchen in the barn.
The meat of the tusked-boar had a wild flavor in its fat. So, I sliced it thinly, skewered it, used sake and ginger to suppress the odor, and brushed it with a sauce made by mixing miso left by my grandmother with mirin and chopped green onions.
Today was the soft opening. I placed a wire mesh on the portable stove and slowly grilled it.
Sizzle. The fat dripped down.
The savory smell of miso just before it burned spread all the way outside the barn.
“Is it ready yet?”
Mikoto, in her signboard cat seat, had been waiting with her front paws together for a while now.
“Not yet. You have a cat’s tongue, don’t you?”
“I am a divine beast. Heat or whatever.”
“Yesterday, you made a weird face because it was hot, remember?”
“I have no such memory.”
When I started the stream, the comments started flowing in immediately.
The channel name has changed! Countryside Monster Cafeteria, that is not bad. The signboard cat is hereeeee. Mikoto-sama is white again today. What is that meat? A boar? The sound of miso grilling is dangerous.
“Today is a soft opening. I received permission to exterminate a small tusked-boar that was ravaging a nearby field. It is not a Guild request; it is just dealing with vermin on private land.”
I made sure to say that clearly.
I had had enough of unnecessary misunderstandings.
I flipped the skewers and brushed them with the miso sauce again.
The edges of the meat shrunk slightly, and the fat shone transparently. The fragrance of burnt miso and the spiciness of ginger mixed together.
I handed the first one to Mr. Shibata.
Mr. Shibata had been crossing his arms at the entrance of the barn, but perhaps having lost to the surrounding scent, he took the skewer fearfully.
“You really sure this is edible?”
“Please leave it if you cannot.”
“I will eat it.”
Mr. Shibata took a bite.
In that instant, the frown between his brows relaxed.
“Delicious.”
It was a small voice.
But that one word was enough.
“I thought the meat would be tough, but the fat comes out when you chew it. The miso matches it well. The ginger is good, too. This makes me want some rice.”
“I have some cooked.”
“You are well-prepared, huh.”
When I served the white rice, Mr. Shibata accepted it, looking a little embarrassed.
Perhaps lured by the scent, other neighbors started to gather one by one. The older women who had been keeping their distance at first looked at each other when they saw Mr. Shibata eating his second skewer.
“Is it really that good?”
“Well, if it is only one skewer.”
“I hope there is no strange magic or anything in it.”
“There is not. It is just ordinary miso and ginger.”
I handed out the skewers.
They took a bite.
Their expressions changed.
The doubt turned into surprise, and finally, into a slightly frustrated smile.
“Oh my, oh my. It is delicious.”
“Is this the thing that was ravaging the field?”
“It is frustrating, but it is delicious.”
Villager review is here. Watching them eat in silence is real. White rice, please. Commercialize the miso skewers. The signboard cat has the most serious face.
For Mikoto, I cut the meat into small pieces and grilled it before adding the miso.
When I served it on a plate, Mikoto checked the scent with her nose and took a bite elegantly.
“Hmm.”
“How is it?”
“Not bad for a soft opening. Next time, use charcoal.”
“Your demands are specific.”
“Also, we are going to the shrine.”
At the sudden words, I stopped moving.
“The shrine Mr. Shibata mentioned earlier?”
“From there, an old scent comes.”
“An old scent?”
“It is the scent of the world’s seams. Once, there might have been a small rift.”
The world’s seams.
At those words, the depths of my chest felt faintly cold.
A rift connecting the other world and Japan.
The teleportation that I was caught up in might have been something similar.
However, I did not want to think about it deeply right now.
Right before my eyes, the villagers were eating the tusked-boar miso skewers.
There was steam and laughter in the barn, and the comments section was filled with talk of white rice, cats, and miso.
I think I wanted this kind of time.
Not to defeat someone.
Not to have someone acknowledge me.
Just a time to serve warm food to hungry people.
By the time I finished the stream, the number of subscribers had surpassed ten thousand.
“That is way too many.”
“It is booming, cook.”
“A soft opening and it is this much?”
It was night when I finished cleaning up and finally returned to the main house.
When I looked at my smartphone after getting out of the bath, the notifications still had not stopped.
Comments, subscriptions, clips, messages.
Among them, there was one email with a strangely rigid subject line mixed in.
The sender was the Explorer Guild Regional Administration Bureau.
Subject:
Warning Regarding Unqualified Exploration Activities
I could not move while staring at the screen.
The first line of the body was written like this:
We have confirmed your monster subjugation and streaming activities. Currently, your Explorer license is suspended. Please cease all unqualified exploration activities immediately.
The scent of miso remaining in the barn suddenly felt far away.