The three idiots who couldn't become heroes are preparing a man's meal today as well. - Chapter 14

Episode 14: Washoku (Traditional Japanese) Meal and Milking

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“Hmm-hmm-hmm♪ Hm-hm, hmm♪”

“That sounds like a song from some car commercial.”

Azuma threw in a remark, but I couldn’t care less about that right now.

Just the other day, Airi-san joined our party.

If I were to describe the feeling, it was a mix of joy, embarrassment, and an inexplicable sense of tension.

But let me get straight to the point.

Having her in our party has been absolutely amazing.

“This is so convenient—magic stove!”

“Right? Just thinking about how we don’t have to build a makeshift hearth for every meal anymore is already a huge relief.”

Right in front of us sat a magic stove.

As a gesture of goodwill, Airi-san had actually bought it for us.

The fact that such an item even existed was surprising enough, but the idea that we could now use a proper stove even outdoors was mind-blowing.

It looked like a simple black panel, but the moment you placed a pot or pan on it, it would heat up just like an induction cooktop.

You could even control the temperature, and the heating zones adjusted according to the cookware.

Extremely convenient.

With this, anything that didn’t require direct fire could now be cooked without issue.

“And we actually have rice this time! What are you making?”

“This is just a test, so if it turns out well, I’ll make rice balls. If it gets too watery, I’ll turn it into porridge with bonito broth. If it’s too firm, I’ll make a pilaf-like dish.”

We now had a new staple food.

Thanks to Minami’s market research, we found a shop that sold kome—actual rice.

When we checked it out, it was properly milled and seemed no different from the rice we used to eat.

I wondered why it wasn’t more popular, but apparently, nobles monopolized the supply, so it rarely reached commoners.

Even when it did, the commoners had no idea what to do with it, so it never caught on.

Some people were aware of its existence, but few knew how to cook it properly.

So, we bought as much as we could, and the shopkeeper even shook our hands, asking us to come back next time.

The best part? It wasn’t that expensive.

It cost about 5,000 yen for 10 kilograms—roughly half a silver coin. ($ 33.04 USD)

An absolute steal.

Up until now, we had been like cavemen, building hearths and lighting fires every single time we cooked.

But now, we have a four-burner stove.

This was next-level.

And honestly? Cooking had never been more fun.

“Kou-chan, we brought back some wild vegetables!”

“Sorry for the wait! We gathered a ton today!”

“There are so many edible wild plants… My report is going to be thick this time.”

With snacks in their mouths, Nishida, Minami, and Airi-san returned.

By the way, our new armor was incredibly lightweight.

Was this really a failed prototype? It was so good it was hard to believe.

As for Minami and Airi-san, they wore leather armor.

It looked easy to move in, though one of them was struggling to keep a certain something contained within it.

Saying that out loud would definitely count as harassment, and I wasn’t about to risk getting a death glare from Minami.

“Welcome back! We’re almost ready here. Wash your hands with water and blue herb before you eat.”

“”Okay~””

“Blue herb?”

Airi-san seemed puzzled by our conversation, but… well, she’d get used to it eventually.

“Alright then, let’s eat.”

“””Itadakimasu!”””

“Uh, Itadakimasu?”

We all put our hands together before digging into breakfast.

Since we left early in the morning, we could’ve just eaten something we bought in town.

But I wanted to try cooking with the magic stove.

Or rather, let’s just call it a stove now.

I was so eager to use it that I ended up cooking breakfast myself.

“Rice… real rice… This is amazing…”

Tears streamed down Nishida’s face as he devoured a simple salted rice ball.

Good thing I didn’t mess up the water ratio.

Taking a bite, I realized I might have gone a little heavy on the salt, but the nostalgic taste was comforting.

The rice itself was perfect.

In fact, cooking it in an earthenware pot instead of a rice cooker made it taste even better.

I remembered something my late grandma once told me:

“After washing the rice, add enough water so that when you place your hand flat on the surface, the water reaches just below your wrist.”

I thought it was just an old wives’ tale, but it turned out to be spot on.

Getting it right on the first try was a huge relief.

Grandma, thank you.

“Miso soup… it’s delicious. It really soothes the soul. Having a variety of seasonings available is such a huge help.”

Azuma sipped his miso soup with a peaceful, almost enlightened expression.

We had bought the ingredients for this from the market.

This world didn’t just have soy sauce, it had a whole range of seasonings readily available.

Mirin, cooking sake, sugar, salt.

Even curry powder, mayonnaise, and miso were being sold as if it were the most natural thing.

It was a huge help. Seriously, a lifesaver.

It made me realize why the food in town tasted so good.

Japanese people have refined palates and, arguably, the most sensitive stomachs in the world. (SEA, Mexican and Mid-East people have the strongest stomach, in my opinion)

The fact that we could eat so comfortably in another world was probably thanks to this wide selection of seasonings.

In the first week, we had mostly relied on different herbs, though.

“This soup has such a deep flavor… it’s incredibly delicious.”

“Oh, you can tell, Minami? Today, I made the broth with bonito flakes. Next time, I’ll try a different base, so look forward to it.”

“Yes!”

Today’s miso soup was made using bonito flakes for the broth, with daikon radish, green onions, and a bit of the man-eating fish we had hunted the other day.

The miso I used was something I had picked up from the market.

From the taste, it seemed to be an “awase miso” blend. (Mixture of red and white soybean paste)

Back home, I usually bought miso labeled “with dashi! Awase miso!” and this one tasted almost exactly like that, so I bought it on the spot.

I wasn’t too worried about messing it up, but the man-eating fish’s meat had added an unexpectedly rich depth to the flavor.

Some people might find it a bit too strong, though.

Next time, I’ll make a lighter miso soup and see how they react.

“Why is this kind of meal being cooked outdoors…? This is tamagoyaki, right? And grilled fish with salt, some kind of ginger-fried meat… and what’s this? Something slimy and something that smells sour?”

“Oh, the tamagoyaki is made from the eggs of that blue chicken-like bird. The fish is from the man-eating… uh…”

“Pilaq.”

“Yeah, yeah, Pilaq. Thanks, Minami. And the meat is boar—since we have a surplus. The last two dishes are natto and pickles, which we got from the same person who sold us the rice. Are they unfamiliar to you?”

Previously, I had tried frying up that blue bird, only to be interrupted.

Since they looked so much like chickens, it was no surprise that they laid high-quality eggs every day.

Through our continued exploration, we discovered that the blue bird was not only great for eggs but also had excellent meat.

Because of that, we had largely refrained from hunting them… mostly.

Instead, we had been looking out for them and, in return, taking their eggs.

We did the same for the truffle-hunting pigs, gathering mushrooms rather than hunting the pigs themselves.

From the animals’ perspective, it was probably a nuisance, but we were protecting them while getting ingredients in return.

“I’ve never eaten this before… so I’ll start with the eggs…”

“Go ahead, go ahead.”

I encouraged her lightly, but I was sure she was about to be stunned.

After all, blue chicken eggs were ridiculously delicious.

Even I, who used to cringe at scenes of foreign actors downing raw eggs in movies, could drink these without hesitation.

That’s how good they were.

No unpleasant smell, just a rich, deep flavor.

And the color—so vibrant.

I had cracked and beaten these eggs, cooked them into tamagoyaki, then wrapped them around a slice of cheese from the market, rolling them into perfect little bundles for breakfast.

There was no way they wouldn’t be delicious.

I’d like to try adding shiso next time.

“…! Huh? Huh!?”

“How is it?”

“This… I don’t think I can eat regular tamagoyaki anymore…”

A major success.

If even Airi-san, who had grown up among nobles, found it delicious, then it would definitely satisfy Thoor and the others as well.

In that case, I’d confidently prepare them a full-course meal.

She tried the grilled Pilaq fish and the ginger-fried king boar meat, trembling with excitement as she ate.

She even tasted the natto and pickles, hesitating at first but eventually saying, “It still feels a bit strange… but it’s not bad!”

I’d say that was a pretty solid result.

As for the others, no complaints there.

Nishida even suggested, “For natto, we need a big bowl of rice…”

Everyone looked completely satisfied.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s get to work and burn off some of this meal.”

“Oh, we’re doing it again this week?”

“Nice, gotta have ‘that’ after all.”

At my words, Nishida and Azuma immediately stood up.

They already knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Um… is this about taming again? Got it, I’ll get the containers ready.”

“Huh? Wait, what? Why do I feel like this is something scary? What’s ‘that’?”

Minami got up next, followed by Airi-san, who looked confused but stood up as well.

The sun had just risen, so it was still early morning.

That meant they had likely just started their activities too.

“Alright, let’s go! Off to milk some cows!”

“””Ooooh!”””

“…Huh?”

And so, once again, we set off.

To enjoy our free-spirited survival life to the fullest.

Normally, one would say it’s to “survive,” but for us, there was no such sense of desperation.

If anything, the most accurate way to put it would be: “To live joyfully.”

We had adapted well to this world.

Hunting, eating, and living.

A life ruled purely by biological instinct.

A life we could never have had “on the other side.”

And so, today as well, we kill.

We kill to eat, and we move forward to stay alive.

Because that is the law of this world.

(Airi POV)

“Dossseii!”

With an incomprehensible battle cry, our leader, Kitayama-san, thrust his spear forward.

That single strike was all it took to end the battle.

Before us stood a herd of Horn Bison.

A mutated species of cattle, known as “Cau” or “Beef” in some regions.

In this area, they were commonly called “Moo-Moo.”

They had black-and-white patches, looking more like regular cows than bison, but their sheer size and the long horns of the males made them formidable.

When we first encountered the herd, I nearly gave up, thinking we were done for.

If they all charged at once, we’d be trampled into mincemeat.

But then—

“Moooooo!”

As soon as he spotted them, our leader let out an inexplicable roar, and for some reason, only one of the beasts approached.

And not just any one—the strongest-looking one, stomping its hooves and snorting furiously.

Then—

“So, you’re the boss, huh…? Let’s do this.”

With those words, a one-on-one battle began.

The Moo-Moo charged with terrifying speed, but Kitayama-san dodged at the last possible moment, just outside the reach of its horns, and hurled his spear with all his might.

It was a flawless display of skill.

The beast collapsed to its knees and never rose again.

If this was just a hunt, we could have taken it down together—so why fight it one-on-one?

The answer soon became clear.

“W-What is this…?”

“Um, I only recently learned this myself, but apparently, Moo-Moo herds recognize anyone who defeats their leader in single combat. In other words, Kitayama-sama is now the boss of this herd. If he leaves, they’ll just pick a new leader and move on, but for now…”

Before us, over a dozen Moo-Moos had lined up in a neat row.

All of them seemed to have short horns.

Wait… does that mean…?

“Time to milk ’em!”

Azuma-san and Nishida-san, carrying milk tanks, rushed forward and began milking the cows with all their might.

Ah, I see.

This lineup was the milk-producing cows offering their tribute to the new leader.

No, wait. No, ‘I see’ my ass. What the hell is this?

Meanwhile, behind us, Minami-chan was storing the defeated bull in her magic bag.

“Ah, if we butcher it in front of them, they’ll run away, so I’ll do it later. It’ll be delicious, you know?”

She, too, had become fully accustomed to this world.

Two men milking magical beasts, a slave girl collecting the corpse for food,

And our leader, sitting cross-legged like some noble ruler before his new herd.

“Oh, I’m not slacking off, you know? If I don’t stay here, the cows won’t stay in line.”

…Or so he claims.

Perhaps this is what it means to “reign as king.”

For now, our leader has temporarily subdued a herd of magical beasts.

I’ll need to write this in the report—along with their behavior, the surrounding edible plants, and the food we’ve gathered.

Honestly, I feel busier now than when I worked at the reception desk.

Discovering new things is exciting, but having to document every single one is exhausting.

I wish we had two or three more people…

As I stood there lost in thought, watching this surreal scene—

“Airi-sama, stop slacking and help store the filled milk tanks.”

“Ah, right. Got it, I’ll help.”

Somehow, even the slave girl was scolding me.

The three problem children were one thing, but even she seemed more energetic ever since we entered the forest…

Or was that just my imagination?