Chapter 206: Festival Night (3)

Chapter 206: Festival Night (3)

Vikir, dressed as a witch, was stir-frying vegetables and meat.

A limited amount and quality of ingredients.

But the number of dishes that could be made from their combination is endless.

'Memories. I used to eat this a lot in the field.'

Vikir dipped a piece of dry bread into the milk, reminiscing about the past before the regression.

As the Age of Destruction dragged on, the more food ran out.

Most of the supplies brought to the front lines were burned by demon raids, and what little did arrive was stolen or embezzled by the higher-ups.

What did eventually fall into the hands of officers and soldiers at the end of the line withered, rotted, or spoiled.

Aside from their anger, the men on the front lines had to make the most of this extremely limited food supply.

Along the way, Vikir learned a lot from his comrades.

How to prepare inedible ingredients to make them edible, what parts of poisonous vegetables to remove, how to restore freshness to meat that has lost its flavor, how to make astringent, bitter, or sour vegetables palatable, how to kill the individuality of spices that are too intense to be liked or disliked, how to make them taste universally acceptable, how to boil, how to stew, how to bake, how to grill, how to steam, how to stir-fry.... Yôur favorite stories at novelhall.com

Now, Vikir was using his experience to make the most of the limited space and limited ingredients.

'A few simple snack menus will definitely be better than the chefs at the moment.'

After decades on the battlefield, a few of the old soldier's signature dishes were enough to overwhelm most chefs.

This, of course, is due to the advanced recipes of previous eras, and the taste of time spent in the field.

'The potatoes developed by Morg are earthy and tasteless, and the texture is like chewing sand....'

But Vikir chopped up the potatoes, seasoned them with salt and vinegar, and added mandrake leaves and sabac berries to the wok and fried them over high heat.

'This will completely remove the earthy flavor and bring out the sweetness and texture,'

Come to think of it, I had done this to potatoes once before.

'You don't have anything like this at home, do you?'

Suddenly, a clear face flashed before Vikir's eyes and then it was disappeared.

"...."

He stared at it with teary eyes.

'Hey. Why don't you come over and cook for me? I'll take you in.'

'Speaking of which, when do you get into the academy? Let's see. I'm probably going to get in early by a year or two. It would be so much fun if we were in first grade together....'

And then, as if on cue, they tangled, planning their future together.

'...where you are now and what you're doing.'

Vikir thought briefly.

Then he surprised himself.

That he still had time to think of others.

'I wonder if I have any sensitivity left.'

Vikir shook his head to clear his thoughts.

He turned his attention back to the reality.

'I'll see you soon enough.'

It's always a good idea to keep your hands busy when your mind wanders.

Cluck.

The chicken and potatoes are stir-fried, and the red soup seasoning is poured over the top.

This nameless dish, once eaten by mercenaries on the front lines in the Age of Destruction over the carcasses of demons, has been transported back in time and created in the Academy's festival bar and has become a very popular new menu item.

"...."

Tudor and Sinclair excitedly began handing out numbered tags to customers outside the fence.

Despite the extra zeros added to the prices of the food on the menu, Vikir's creations are selling like crazy.

Most of the customers were from the nobility, so they weren't afraid to open their wallets despite the high prices.

"Huh! Look, guys, there's a new menu again! How in the world did you manage to make such a delicious snack out of leftover ingredients? What's the name of this thing? What? Nothing? It's just leftover ingredients? Let's put it on the menu as soon as possible! It's Vikir's special new menu!"

After revealing the fact that Vikir was actually a man, the number of female customers began to increase dramatically.

Surprisingly, the number of male customers didn't decrease at all, but actually increased.

"Wow, look at all the guys. Men just need to be pretty."

"Hey! It's a big deal! She's a guy!"

"I thought it was all about being really pretty~"

"Girls just need to be pretty, too, eek!"

"Did my school have a girl like that?"

"He's a freshman in this year's cold class. He's famous for doing a Colosseo Naphtali."

"I heard this place is a good restaurant."

"Take my order, please! I'll pay for my meal here in advance. Oh, and could you please put the drinks and food away, they're distracting from the view?"

Ugh. Professors and students, a crowd.

"Excuse me, Vikir, I'm sorry you're so busy, but do these come with extra toppings, and I'd like to try one of the new items you just added."

Even Prof. Banshee had taken up a table and was sitting down, placing one order after another.

Just then.

Bianca walked into the kitchen, fresh from a publicity stint.

When she saw Vikir holding the pots and ladles, she exclaimed in surprise.

"What the hell, why are you in the kitchen? Get out there and sell! Why are you rotting in the kitchen with that face!"

Hearing that, Vikir nodded and let go of the ladle.

At that very moment.

"No! The kitchen is ruined without Vikir's touch!"

Tudor rushes over and stops Vikir.

Soon, Tudor, the chef, and Bianca, the hustler, were arguing.

"Vikir is an asset to the kitchen, don't you dare take him away from us! How many lonely gourmets have fallen in love with Vikir's taste right now!"

"Are you kidding me, you want him to stew in that perfect witch costume? Every time he steps outside, sales go through the roof!"

Suddenly, a group of kitchen students swarmed behind Tudor, and a group of charmers behind Bianca, and they began to argue.

"Don't disrespect the kitchen!"

"The flower of a festival is attracting customers!"

Students from both positions, including Tudor and Bianca, began to fight for Vikir's position.

Just then.

"They shouldn't be fighting."

There was one person pulling Vikir to his feet.

A moment.

"?"

Vikir's expression turned slightly blank.

A familiar face.

... ... Why is this person who should be on the far western border now here in the imperial capital?