Chapter 1 All You Can Eat! The Oosuki Family Rice Bowl, Topped with Familial Reminiscences!
He glanced up, and the sun was reaching its zenith.
Almost noon—and almost time for lunch.
But in front of him, the field was absolutely swarming with monsters.
“Eep! There’s so many! It’s like we stumbled into a monster nest!”
“Oh my! This will never do. And we were so close to town!”
“Sheesh, what a pain. Let’s take ’em out!” Grrr.
“I’ll show you what a starving Sage can do!” Foosh.
“Serves you right for standing between us and food! No mercy!” Rumble.
Mamako’s smile stiffened a little as the three hungry teens charged.
The monsters in their path were, for some reason, living fruits. First attack!
“How dare you look so tasty?! I’m gonna cook your asses real good!”
The Hero, Masato, unleashed a mighty swing with the Holy Sword, Firmamento. A slash of starvation!
It struck a floating melon monster right in the rind, splitting it in twain!
“Ha! I oughta scoop the seeds out and fill this thing with ice cream!”
“Yeah, yeah, all you did was cut it in half, nothing to brag about. That’s not cooking! This is.”
The Sage, Wise.
“Spara la magia per mirare… Fuoco Fiamma! And! Fuoco Fiamma!”
She chain cast, sending out two layers of white-hot flame. The apple-shaped monsters flitting through the air were double-grilled! The sweet scent of their sizzling flesh proved tantalizing.
“Mwa-ha-ha! How do you like them roasted apples?! See? Now that’s what you call roasting an enemy!”
“Argh…I hate to admit it, but you did literally cook them! I guess you win this one, Wise.”
“Not so fast. Feast your eyes on what I’ve cooked up.”
““Erp?!””
The Cleric, Medhi, stepped forward—eyes tightly shut.
“I can feel it… I know who wants me to cook them—you! Rah!”
Medhi’s specialty was healing—but her blunt attacks were her real charm.
She put her back into that swing of her staff and scored a critical hit on a watermelon monster rolling toward them.
Its flesh splattered everywhere.
“That felt good! My dish will be… Huh?”
“Not much use splitting the watermelon if there’s nothing left to eat,” said Masato. “That’s the opposite of cooking…”
“Medhi’s an avant-garde chef, and her culinary efforts always end in ruination.”
The green rind had shattered, and the red flesh had erupted, spraying all around.
It looked like a crime scene. Her party members hastily averted their eyes—and so did the other fruit-shaped monsters.
There were still a lot of those.
“This is no time for games! Let’s end this fight, get to town, and eat! So, uh…with great reluctance…”
“Hee-hee! It’s Mommy’s turn!”
Mamako had been ready and waiting for Masato to glance her way. With her usual beatific smile.
“Let’s get cooking! Hyah!”
Mamako attacked, gently swinging her two Holy Swords.
Altura, the Holy Sword of the Ocean, went first. It generated beautiful clean water, washing all the fruit monsters—bananas, grapes, and pineapples alike.
Then Terra di Madre, the Holy Sword of Earth, activated. Stone spikes appeared from the ground—also thoroughly washed—and struck their targets.
In an instant, all fruits were peeled, the bunches were broken apart, and they were diced for ease of consumption.
They landed in bowls of flowing water—and the dish was complete.
The horde of fruit monsters became a fruit salad!
“Here you are! Dig in! Hee-hee-hee.”
“That’s a pretty lavish dessert… Still, they were monsters originally, so…not eating ’em,” said Masato.
“True that. Sadly, they aren’t edible,” agreed Wise.
The fruit salad was certainly colorful and looked tasty enough, but—it was just a bunch of dismembered monster parts. They were already starting to turn into dust.
A few moments later, they were gone—and the bowl was filled with colorful gems.
“Man, even the gems are looking kinda tasty right now…” Wise began drooling.
“Like little fruit gummies. Please, Wise, try one,” said Medhi.
“Wait, don’t do that! I know they look tasty, but you can’t eat—!” Growl.
At this point, Porta was interrupted by a cute little growl from her stomach. “Whoa!” she squealed, turning beet red. She slapped her hands over her belly, trying to quiet it.
Masato would have loved nothing more than to bask in the spectacle of this adorableness, but he was a gentleman, and he put his hands over his ears, pretending he hadn’t heard.
“Okay, everyone! It’s time for our twice-a-week dining out! Let’s not eat the gems but cash ’em in and order whatever desserts we like! How’s that sound, Mom?”
“Yes, that does sound good. Do you mind, Porta?”
“R-right! Gathering gems is my job! Leave it to—” Growl.
Her belly let out another adorable growl, and she turned red again.
And the gentleman in her party pretended not to notice once more.
The party reached the town safely—no old-school random encounters every step in this game.
The town was a nameless rest stop. Plain wooden buildings, dirt roads—your typical farming village.
But there was a solid row of shops, and a sizable number of villagers and adventurers were passing by. Pretty bustling.
Scoping the town out, they found a street with plenty of restaurants.
“…Hmm? Weird—are they all fixing leaks?”
As far as Masato could see, every roof was under repair. That was concerning, but…
The smells were too much for his empty stomach.
“We should choose a place for lunch. Anyone have a suggestion?” said Mamako.
“Uh, yeah…I’m in the mood for—”
But before Masato could finish…
“Knock it off already!”
“How about you knock it off?!”
There was a crowd in the street, and two people were in the midst of a heated argument.
One was a girl in eye-catching exotic dance garb like that of a belly dancer. She looked a little older than Masato, but physically she was a good match for Wise.
The other was a Japanese-looking woman, wearing an apron over a kimono. She appeared to be in her forties.
Yelling was clearly not enough for either; they were adding headbutts to the mix as well.
“I’m gonna give it to you straight: The very sight of your antique ass disgusts me! You’re bad for business!”
“That’s my line! That lurid outfit is beyond the pale! Change out of it this instant!”
“Visual interest is vital to any restaurant’s success these days! It’s not a difficult concept to grasp!”
“It’s the flavor that matters! That’s all we need to succeed!”
“Could you be any less stubborn?! I can’t stand this! Talking to you’s a complete waste of time! Hmph!”
“You’re the one who caused this big scene in the middle of the lunch rush! Hmph!”
Fuming, the two women turned their backs on each other and stalked off into shops on opposite sides of the street.
One restaurant was small but lavishly decorated, like some maharaja’s palace.
The other was totally ordinary, like any other in-game restaurant.
“God, my mom is so—mm?”
The belly dancer saw Masato’s party coming.
And she pounced like a starving beast. “Grr!” “Yikes?!” Her charge was every bit as heated as theirs against the fruit foes from earlier.
“You’re coming to my shop, right?! Say you are!”
“Um…I-I’m sure there’s plenty of other people who’d like to… Huh?!”
But even as Masato spoke, the crowd scattered like spiders, fleeing the girl’s ferocity.
Worse…
“Ooh, I smell curry! Oh, now I want some!”
“Mom! Don’t—if you say that, she’ll—”
“Best curry in town, right this way! Table for five!”
“Aughhhh…!”
They were dragged into the maharaja’s restaurant with such force that a simple “No” was clearly not an option.
They stepped through the door, buffeted by the décor and aromas.
Sniffing the spices, they were greeted by a massive elephant statue. The interior was hardly spacious, but the walls were draped in tapestries, paisleys, and mandalas—definitely hard selling that exotic vibe.
But there were no other customers—possibly because she’d just had a huge argument in front of her shop.
This girl appeared to be the sole employee and was thrilled to have the party there.
“Welcome! I’m Raja, the owner of this shop! I’ll serve you, body and soul! Have a seat here! I’ll go get you some water.”
“Uh, sure, thanks…”
Raja went off, hips wriggling (like a belly dance), and Masato’s eyes— “Ma-kun?” “I’m not staring!” Having your mom with you was hard. He settled on staring at the ceiling. It was also covered in paisley patterns.
They were led to a round table near the kitchen. They took seats around it—Masato, Mamako, Wise, Medhi, then Porta.
“Well, I’m definitely hungry, and curry’s good with me. Let’s eat and move on. Without sticking our necks into this mess.”
“Hmm…that sure seemed like a family squabble, though.”
“Raja did call the other lady ‘Mom,’ so I think Wise is right,” said Medhi.
“I wonder if something happened between them!” said Porta. “I’m really curious!”
“Yes. And when families are having problems… Ma-kun, what say we at least listen?”
Everyone was staring at Masato. Expectantly.
“Sigh… Fine. After we eat. If I feel like it.”
This was clearly going to be more than just a meal, but the meal came first.
He reached for the menu, intending to order quickly…
Saag. Sambar. Dal. Korma.
Rows of words he’d never seen before.
“Uh…sorry, Raja, isn’t this a curry shop?”
“It is a curry shop! Curry isn’t the name of a single dish! There’s all kinds of curries out there! Let me walk you through them.”
Raja placed their waters in front of them.
Saag was a curry made from leafy vegetables like spinach.
Sambar was a soup curry with stewed seasonal vegetables.
Dal was a curry made from stewed beans and ranged in consistency from a paste to a soup.
Korma was a curry with yogurt, coconut, and spices.
Although they were appreciative of Raja’s explanation, it didn’t make their choice any easier.
“I get the gist, but…”
“I can’t really imagine what they taste like…”
“It’s so difficult to choose…”
“Which one is the least spicy…?”
Everyone was scowling at their menus, getting nowhere.
Except Mamako.
“Why don’t we just order all of them and share?”
“Oh!” “Yes!” “Let’s do that!” “Please!”
“You got it! They all come with rice and naan!”
Really, an obvious solution.
A proper meal at a proper restaurant…meant eating with the thumb, forefinger, and middle finger of your right hand alone. True elegance was achieved by moving nothing below the second joint.
But who cared about that? Left hands and spoons were all good.
“Let’s dig in! …Whoa, the saag is great! This food’s really second to none—no, second to naan!”
Masato looked up to find the girls glaring at him. “…Sorry.” Always important to own your failures.
“The sambar’s delicious,” said Wise. “Veggies are stewed to perfection… It’s kinda like miso soup, in a way.”
“The dal is very nice. Bean curry—so healthy,” said Medhi.
“The korma isn’t too spicy, so I can eat it just fine!” chirped Porta. “I like it!”
“Oh my! Porta, you have curry—I mean, korma—on your cheek. Goodness, Ma-kun, you’ve got saag on yours! Hold still.”
“Lay off! I can wipe it myself!”
Rice and naan mingled with each type of curry on their tongues.
Led by their appetites, they inhaled the meal.
Full up, they were left basking in the afterglow, and Raja brought out post-meal drinks for everyone. Glasses full of a white beverage.
“This is called lassi. Nothing goes better with curry!”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that! It’s made from yogurt, right?”
Masato took a gulp, and the faintly tart sweetness washed away the lingering bite of the curry, the perfect finish to the meal. Definitely the right choice.
“Whoa, this is addicting.”
“Glad to hear it. Let’s get you hooked on curry and turn you into a regular! You’re welcome here anytime!”
Raja’s outfit might have been a bit much, but her smile was unadorned and genuine. She cleared away their dishes and vanished behind the counter.
Masato watched her go, and Mamako poked him in the arm.
“Ma-kun, maybe it’s time?”
“Argh…you didn’t forget that, huh?”
He really didn’t feel up to it. “Ma-kun?” “Ugh, fine.” He couldn’t just let Mamako poke him all day.
“Raja, I know you’re busy washing dishes, but do you have a minute to talk?”
“Oh, sure. What is it?”
“We saw you arguing with the lady across the street…”
He’d intended to ask about the cause of that fight…
But before he could, he heard a plate shatter.
Raja had a smile on her lips but was literally shaking with rage, and the vein on her brow looked ready to pop.
“Really? I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Throb, throb.
“Okay, sure, done here. Sorry.”
Nope. Asking more would just cause an explosion.
His party went into a huddle, whispering.
“Safety first. We’ll have to speculate… So the lady across the street has to be Raja’s mom.”
“And I’m pretty sure they’re test players. Judging by their outfits,” said Wise.
“A belly dancer outfit and a kimono… Definitely not the kinds of clothes we’ve seen anywhere else in-game… Porta, what do you make of it?” asked Medhi.
“Neither outfit is ordinary gear! High odds they’re both a starting bonus!”
“That means… Ma-kun?”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. We can’t just do nothing. Argh…”
Not if they were test players. A real-life mother and daughter.
They must have made noncombat, cooking-centric accounts, and opened shops in-game.
“And that means the reason they’re fighting…”
“Parents and kids fight all the time! I mean, me and my mom sure did.”
“Yeah, and the reason they split up and aren’t working together is just like you and your mom, Wise: going against the goals of the game and making trouble for everyone.”
“Ugh, I dug my own grave there…”
“Which means we definitely need to help, but to do that, we need more info…and it doesn’t seem like Raja’s inclined to answer. Should we head across the street and ask there?”
“Oh? You’re gonna visit the other shop? I see! Well, before you leave, make sure you pay your tab!”
Bam.
Raja was suddenly right next to them, slamming the check down on the table. And the total came to:
500,006,000 mum
Five hundred million. Six thousand mum.
“Each customer that crosses the street gets a hundred-million-mum surcharge.”
“Even for a scam, that’s nuts.”
“You don’t have to pay! All you gotta do is promise you’ll never enter her shop, and I’ll drop the bill to only six thou. What d’ya say?”
“U-understood. In that case…”
Masato nervously glanced around the party then nodded.
“Let’s say we pay the six thousand up front…and Wise and Medhi will work here until the rest is paid up,” he declared.
Like a proper hero.
They’d been left with little choice.
His back to Raja’s shop, Masato began making his way across the street.
“Masatoooooooooooo! You’ll pay for thiiiiiiiiiiis!”
“This is unacceptable! I can’t believe I’m working off debts again!”
“No running away, girls! Back to the shop, and change into your uniforms.”
Wise and Medhi were dragged bodily back inside.
It was hard to watch. But this was their only option.
The appalled looks Mamako and Porta were giving him were hard to bear, yet Masato remained resolute.
“We have a mission: Uncover the problem between these two, and resolve it. I’ve assigned the girls the vital task of buying us the time to do that.”
“I—I do want to help Raja and her mother…”
“But is this really okay…?”
“It is. I’ve made my decision. Porta, Mom—neither of you could make this choice. Only I can. Because I’m the Hero.”
Putting it that way felt good.
Wise and Medhi would definitely get him back later…and that was terrifying. He was crying already.
“But it’s okay! If we can solve this problem, everything’ll fall into place. We just have to focus on the task at hand.”
“…Well, all right. I’m sure they’ll both do their best.”
“We’ll talk to the mom and fix this!”
“Yep! Come on! Raja’s mom’s shop is right over here!”
It was across the street, so it was literally only a few steps away.
It looked exactly like any other in-game restaurant.
The interior was the same: just your standard Western-style tables. The argument earlier had left the place equally deserted.
As they stepped through the door, the lady in the kimono and apron greeted them—her vibe at total odds with the décor. Definitely the woman Raja had been arguing with.
“Welcome. Table for three? Do sit down.”
“Uh, yeah, thanks.”
For now, they acted like regular customers. The three of them took over a table meant for four.
“Okay, first…we oughta order something.”
“No need. Anyone who’s visited the shop across the street is automatically served the Owner’s Whim Set. Just wait right here!”
She smiled pleasantly, placed the check on the table, and retreated into the kitchen.
Masato picked up the check.
Whim x 3: 300,000,000
They were being charged a hundred million each. For a whim.
“…She’s definitely Raja’s mom. This proves it. They act exactly alike.”
“Oh my. I suppose this means I’ll have to work!”
“I can help! Now we’ll be just like Wise and Medhi!”
“That’s not— Uh, let’s try and avoid that predicament. If we can get some info from her and fix the problem, then—”
“Here you are!”
The lady was back faster than expected. Carrying a tray with three dishes, which she set out before them.
First, shiratama anmitsu: diced agar, boiled red peas, shiratama dumplings, and red bean jam, with plenty of syrup on top. A dish with all your classic Japanese-style sweets in it.
Next was kuzukiri: kudzu powder dissolved in water, chilled, sliced like udon, and served in black syrup.
Finally, mizu yokan: red bean paste mixed with agar and solidified—this type used more water and was softer.
Three dishes total.
“Since you already ate across the street, I went with dessert.”
“That’s a big help, actually. But they’re each a hundred million mum?”
“They are.”
“We can’t get you to price that more reasonably…?”
“Nope.”
Her smile was pleasant, but she brooked no argument. They weren’t getting anywhere.
Still waters run deep, and so did this lady’s fury. Masato’s attempt at diplomacy had failed.
And so…
“Then why don’t we have a little mom-to-mom chat, and if you feel a bit better, you can lower the price accordingly! What do you say?”
Mamako took over the negotiations. Cutting in with a smile.
And the results…
“…Well, mom-to-mom, I suppose we do have things to discuss.”
Their opponent yielded. A path opened!
Apparently when mothers collide, a sympathetic effect occurs…
“Mama, is this a new skill?”
“A special mom skill? No, an ordinary Mom Link! One that activates automatically when two moms meet!”
That’s how moms worked. This was a standard skill all of them had.
The woman went in back and came out with a mug of tea.
She sat down on the empty seat and took a sip. Then she let out a long sigh and began talking.
“My name is Yuzuki. Loath as I am to admit it, I’m the mother of that problem child calling herself Raja, dressing like a dancer and running a curry shop.”
“I—I see. I’m…not sure what to say.”
It was awfully difficult to maintain a conversation with someone who looked noticeably older than his own mother.
So Masato glanced at Mamako. “Hee-hee, leave this to me.” “Take it away.” Thank God his mom was with him.
“Well, I suppose we should introduce ourselves! My name is Mamako Oosuki. And—”
“Her son, Masato. I’m afraid I have a bad habit of not saying anything when I eat mizu yokan.”
“I’m Porta! And, uh…I don’t talk much when I’m eating anmitsu.”
“How nice to meet you all. Go ahead and eat up. The truth is, I’ve read about your exploits in the magazines, Mamako. I knew who you were from the start. I’ve heard you solve family problems.”
“I can be a bit of a busybody, I must admit… Would you mind telling us what you were fighting about?”
“Not at all. I’d be only too happy to share.”
Mamako and Yuzuki began a mom talk.
Meanwhile, Masato and Porta focused on eating. “Oh, this is good!” “Very!” Each attended to the task they were best suited for.
“Back in the real world, I run a little restaurant out of my home.”
“Oh, how lovely!”
“It’s nothing fancy. My great-grandmother started it, so it’s rather old now, and we’ve been discussing whether it was time to rebuild the place. And then…”
“Something happened?”
“My daughter was attending culinary school. She said old-fashioned Japanese food was out, and we should start a proper curry restaurant instead. That’s where this whole thing started.”
“You can’t just change a shop that’s been like that for generations…”
“Exactly! But my daughter doesn’t give a damn about that. Just said whatever she pleased. She’d come in yelling during business hours—it was pandemonium.”
That sounded pretty bad, but…
Man.
“…That anmitsu looks good.”
“It is! Try some, Masato!”
“Thanks! In return, have a bite of my yokan. Say ‘Ahh!’”
“Ahh!”
He popped a piece of yokan into Porta’s little mouth, and a smile blossomed across her face. “Thank you!” “That smile’s all the thanks I need.” Masato felt rewarded! (Not in a weird way.)
The mom talk was reaching its crux.
“One of our regulars saw us going at it and told us about this game. Said we could have an adventure together and bond.”
“So that’s how you wound up here?”
“That’s what we put on the application. But…that was a bit of a lie.”
“Oh?”
“From the get-go, we planned to set up our shops in competition and see which of us did better. Then we’d decide what to do with the real-world shop based on the outcome.”
A real family throw down. Raja and Yuzuki putting it all on the line.
Masato had been listening quietly, but this spoke to his love of combat, and he found himself leaning forward.
“Oh! Rather than merely patching things up, you both stood your ground, plunging into the game world to settle things once and for all! That’s what I’m talking about!”
“I just can’t stop myself from nagging her, which leads to these big arguments. But neither of us have forgotten our real purpose.”
“I see…then…”
“This is a battle between mother and daughter! We shouldn’t get in the way!” said Porta.
“Yeah, I agree. Right, Mom?”
“Hmm. I see your point, but…hmm…”
Mamako seemed significantly less sure.
“We assumed there was a problem since they weren’t together, but in this case, we gotta leave them to it. Or…wait. But then…”
If they just let Raja and Yuzuki work out their own issues in due time…
Then there’d be no quick fix, and the curry debt wasn’t going anywhere. Wise and Medhi might be stuck in indentured servitude…
A pretty big deal reduced to an idle thought.
…Grrrooowwwlll…
Then they heard a strange noise from outside.
Yuzuki leaped to her feet.
“That sound…that’s it! It’s time! Mamako, Porta, can you lend a hand?”
“…Uh, so not me?”
Yuzuki’s request was…
Ten minutes later…
Outside Yuzuki’s shop stood Yuzuki, Mamako, Porta…and also Masato.
The ladies were all in kimonos and aprons. The mothers had their sleeves bound up in battle-ready fashion, and the little mascot girl, in all her cuteness, was being held high up in the air…however.
The mood from the shop opposite suggested this was not the time or the place.
“Masato, you twit! Time to meet your maker!”
“You’ll pay for selling us off like mere chattel!”
“Can’t believe you’d pick the other side! For shame!”
Wise, Medhi, and Raja were lined up, in silky belly dancer uniforms. Their eyes like daggers. Even Raja’s!
Each outfit was striking. There was some range, but definitely sexy all around. It certainly drew the eye…but if he met any girl’s gaze, she seemed liable to bite.
Surrounding these two camps were the neighbors—cooks, servers, and customers alike. People pressed up against the windows, looking nervous.
“What’s going on? Yuzuki? Can we get a briefing?”
“This town is sometimes visited by the Legendary Gourmet. Satisfying him is the highest honor a chef can achieve. And his reviews guarantee success to come.”
“I see. So you’re aiming to settle this battle by securing his seal of approval?”
“I am. The timing couldn’t be better. With Mamako and Porta helping, my victory is assured!”
“And I’m of no use to anyone,” grumbled Masato. “Granted, I can’t help cook, so that’s fair, but…”
“A contest between mother and child… I’m just not sure this is for the best.”
Yuzuki might be placing her bets on Mamako, but Mamako’s smile looked uneasy.
That’s not to say she wasn’t motivated, but…there were definitely some doubts.
Then, from across the way, a carriage appeared—gaudily festooned with golden ornaments of various foodstuffs. On the roof was a well-built elderly gentleman.
There was no earthly reason not to ride inside like a normal person, but he was standing—legs apart, arms folded—on the roof.
“What ho! It is I, the gourmet of legend! Gary Hunn!”
A stomach growl rang out like a fanfare, heralding his arrival.
“Offer up a dish that can satisfy my appetites!”
Gary Hunn snapped his fingers. Kitchen counters materialized in the street outside Yuzuki’s and Raja’s shops. All the utensils and seasonings you could ask for. Piles of ingredients, and empty plates waiting to be filled.
“Make whatever you wish and as much as you like. You there, boy too lazy to help! The signal, please.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to hel—argh, fine. Start cooking!”
Everyone sprang into action.
Outside Raja’s shop, Wise and Medhi were carrying bottles of spices.
“Let’s do this, Medhi! I’ll even let you cook, just this once!”
“Leave it to me! I’ll whip up something just for Masato!”
A big tureen. “Think this is curry powder?” Wise asked Medhi, who replied, “Like I can tell.” “’Kay, in it goes!” Dumping in spice after spice…
“Yo, back up! You’re not cooking for me! This is for Gary Hunn!”
“I feel a slight chill… Very well! Young man, you shall be the first to sample the girls’ dish.”
“Wait, why?! You’re kidding?!”
“I’ll make a separate dish for the Legendary Gourmet! These two are cooking something just for you, Masato.”
“Et tu, Raja?!”
One burner had an anti-Masato weapon, and Raja was commanding the rest of the counter.
She carefully carried in four smaller pans, placing them on the fire. She didn’t have time to stew from scratch, so she was using what she had ready.
The naan, too, had already risen. Tugging the edges of it, she ran a roller over the dough, getting it ready to fry.
Gary Hunn hadn’t exactly provided a tandoor (traditional clay oven), but with a Sage capable of grilling both sides at once with magic, they’d make do.
Meanwhile, on the Yuzuki side…
“Let’s get started! First, fill the deep fryer with oil, and put it on the flame. Then Mamako and I will prep the ingredients.”
“Understood. I’ll do my best!”
“Porta, can you get some cold water ready?”
“Yes! Leave it to me! I can make cold water with Item Creation!”
They were using shrimp, squid, eggplant, and lotus root.
They shelled the shrimp and yanked the veins. The squid was sliced thick and scored. The vegetables were cut to bite-size. Prep complete!
Porta had the cold water ready.
“Fresh, chilly water, all done! Here you go!”
“Thank you! Next, let’s get the batter ready.”
Eggs and water, with a secret ingredient: grated Japanese mountain yam. Finally, a little wheat flour.
Just a pinch or two sprinkled over the top and gently mixed in.
“Mamako, how’s the oil?”
“Yes…I think it’s just about ready!”
Mamako had dipped the ends of her cooking chopsticks in the batter and tested the oil with that.
The batter sank halfway down and soon surfaced. The oil was hot—likely 350 degrees at the very least.
“Good! I’ll take it from here!” said Yuzuki. “And I’ll win this fight!”
A little flour on the ingredients then dunked in the batter, and into the oil they went.
As they cooked, Yuzuki scattered more batter over them with the cooking chopsticks.
This was a technique known as “blooming the flower.”
“…Now!”
With flawless timing, she pulled them out and laid them on the tempura paper.
The dish was complete!
“This is from the menu at Yuzuki Eatery—tempura!”
Yuzuki proudly held aloft a tray of beautifully bloomed tempura. Sounded like she’d named herself after her own restaurant.
But at almost the same time…
“Done! The star of my shop’s menu, the four-curry set!”
Saag, sambar, dal, and korma. A luxury set that let you try all the curries Raja had toiled over.
Last but not least, of course…
“And we’ve made… Uhhh… Well, sure, let’s just say it’s done.”
“Sure. The only person eating this is Masato anyway.”
Wise and Medhi were staring down at some wriggling black thing in their tureen.
Masato ignored them completely.
“Both dishes are complete, then? Very well!” Gary Hunn leaped down from the carriage roof and snapped his fingers once more. An unnecessarily weighty-looking iron table appeared, ready for the sampling.
The moment of fate.
“Outta the way!” Donk.
“Who shoves their mother?! What is wrong with you?”
“Can’t hear you! Come on and judge my dish!”
Yuzuki had finished a few seconds earlier, but with one push, Raja got her dish tabled first. The four-curry set was laid out in front of Gary Hunn.
The gourmet himself had watched all of this and elected to focus on the meal in front of him.
“Let us begin,” he said.
He began tearing off pieces of naan, dunking them in each type of curry, and eating.
“…Ho…!”
His eyes went wide, and he let out an impressed breath.
He ate more, getting faster and faster, until he’d devoured the entire tray.
A magnificent bit of gluttony. The crowd watching was blown away.
“Uh…think we might already have a victor crowned here?” said Masato.
“Totally! I mean, look at him go! Yes! I’ve finally beat my mom!”
“Oh, Masatooo…you’ve got a dish waiting for you… Mwa-ha-ha…”
“Wise, there’s a problem. Our dish just sprouted a bunch of legs and ran away!”
“Yeah, that’s no longer food. Just let it go. We’ll put up an extermination quest at the Adventurers Guild later. More importantly…”
“Sampling complete!”
It was time for the verdict.
Everyone gulped. Gary Hunn paused dramatically…
“It was undoubtedly excellent…but not the food I seek!”
And with that, he flipped the table, the entire iron thing rocketing into the air above, higher and higher—and falling directly on Raja’s shop.
“Er…wait, wait, wait! Nooooooo!”
The iron table scored a direct hit. It went right through the ceiling, and the destructive cacophony rocked the very ground.
The exterior walls somehow remained standing, but the shop she’d spent so much time designing was clearly done for.
“The punishment reserved for those who fail to satisfy me! This is how I roll!”
“Geez, so violent! …Hang on—is this why all the roofs in town are under repair…?” Masato asked.
Either way, Raja’s dish had failed to please Gary Hunn.
“I—I was so sure I’d win… Augh!”
“Yes, yes, quite a shame. My turn now! Outta the way.” Donk.
Now it was Yuzuki’s turn to shove Raja aside. The iron table appeared again, and the tempura was placed on it.
“Hmm…well, let’s see here.”
Gary Hunn’s sampling began.
He sprinkled on a little salt and tried the shrimp, squid, eggplant, and lotus root in turn. Another magnificent act of gluttony.
“Oh, looks like it’s going well. Think we can get a high score?” Masato wondered aloud.
“Heh-heh! I’m certain of it. Victory is mine! I win the family fight!”
“Tch…no way…I can’t be losing to my mother…!”
Certain she’d won, Yuzuki let out a smug peal of laughter, definitely loud enough for Raja to hear.
But…
“Sampling complete! Another excellent dish…but not right!”
The iron table was flung into the air once more, scoring a meteor strike on Yuzuki’s shop.
Raja and Yuzuki were left staring at their roofless shops, stunned.
It was almost evening. They both should be readying themselves for the dinner rush, but clearly—that was the last thing on the agenda.
Someone was crying.
“Sniffle… I wanted Masato to eat that! I worked so hard!”
“Sniff… It’s not too late. Masato, go catch it and have a taste.”
“Not happening. Gimme a break here. I’m sorry I forced you to work off our debts.”
Teenage girls could hold a grudge, but their crocodile tears were not worth paying attention to.
Gary Hunn had been watching the mother and daughter chefs, and he let out a long sigh.
“I had such hopes,” he said. “But once again, the food I seek, the meal that shall truly satisfy me…eludes my tongue’s grasp.”
“That takes care of that, then. We’ll just hit the road…or I guess not.”
There was a bustling noise behind him.
Mamako and Porta were at the kitchen counter by Yuzuki’s shop.
“Right, Porta, get me another pot of cold, cold water, like before. We’ve got to make a lot of this!”
“Okay! Leave it to me!”
Mamako was battering sliced potatoes and frying them in oil heated to roughly 338 degrees (a little less than your standard tempura).
After a few minutes, Masato began to recognize the scent.
That’s… Oh, I get it.
Pretending he wasn’t interested, he made a beeline over to them.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“I thought it was high time I got dinner ready. Watching Yuzuki and Raja cook just got me all excited!”
“Tempura and curry…so is this what I think it is?”
“Exactly! The Oosuki special!”
While they spoke in family code, the potatoes finished frying. Tempura potatoes.
Masato grabbed one from the cooling rack and popped it in his mouth.
The moment he bit in, two kinds of heat spread through his mouth—the hot potato and the bite of the curry spices.
“Mixing curry powder into the tempura batter. Yep, this our family’s—ow, hot!”
“Oh dear. Did you burn your tongue? Should Mommy blow on it?”
“Nah, I’m fine. Now this is the good stuff.” Chomp.
“Hey, don’t go stealing bites!” Chomp.
“That looks good. I’ll just have one.” Chomp.
“Can I have some, too?”
“Of course! Go ahead, Porta dear. But be careful! They’re hot.”
“Okay! Thanks!” Chomp.
“Allow me.” Chomp.
At some point, Gary Hunn had joined them and was gobbling up hot tempura potatoes.
They were gone in the blink of an eye.
“Oh my! You ate them all! Hee-hee-hee. Takes you back, doesn’t it, Ma-kun?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember that.”
“Ha-ha! An amusing anecdote? Do share.”
“Nah, Gary, you wouldn’t be interested—”
“This all happened when we still lived in the real world. Ma-kun had started spending more and more time in his room, and I almost never got to see or talk to him.”
“Mom! Don’t overshare!”
“Oh? And then?”
“But when I made this dish, he’d always come down and start eating them off the cooling rack! Before I knew it, everything I’d fried was gone!”
“She’d be all, ‘They’re not done!’ and I say, ‘Sorry,’ but then eat the next batch she cooked.”
“Exactly! But it meant I could see you and talk to you, and see how healthy your appetite was. This is an important dish for the two of us.”
“It’s not that big a deal, but…they’re definitely one of my favorites. That’s all there is to it, Mr. Hunn.”
“I see…hmm. One question—what do you mean, they’re not done?”
“The real dish isn’t just curry-flavored tempura potatoes. Let me just finish one off for you.”
Sugar, soy sauce, water, blended to taste—liquid seasoning.
Boil that seasoning in a saucepan, add just the right number of tempura potatoes, and drop in a lightly beaten egg, swirling it all together.
When the eggs are firmed up enough, scoop the eggs and potatoes onto a bowl of freshly cooked rice.
Sprinkle a little seaweed on top, and voilà.
“All done! The Oosuki Family Curry Potato Tempura Rice Bowl!”
Hot and gooey. Both the dish and the accompanying story warmed the heart.
“Let me at it.”
Gary Hunn sat down before the rice bowl, looking utterly serious. The sampling began.
With a dramatic chopstick flourish, he took a bite. Chewing rice and potato together.
“…Ho…”
A quiet breath escaped him…and his consumption speed skyrocketed. “Ho-ho-ho-ho!” The bowl was off the table, tipped up as if it were liquid, then inhaled down his hatch!
Then Gary Hunn set the empty bowl back down.
A hush settled over the street. Everyone gulped.
“Er…h-how was it?”
“Hmm. Undoubtedly excellent.”
“W-well…that’s nice! But…it’s just a little home cooking. I doubt it’s what the Legendary Gourmet was—”
“This is the dish I’ve been seekiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!”
“…Huh?”
The iron table shot skyward and exploded in the air above. A massive firework-like burst that lit the evening sky!
Tears gushed from Gary Hunn’s eyes.
“As a traveling gourmet, I have eaten all the delicacies of the world! But there was just one dish—one!—that I yearned for and could not find.”
“And that is?”
“The dish my mother used to make. She has long since passed, ending all chance of encountering it again—so I at least sought a dish that resonated with those same family bonds! A dish made by a mother for her child!”
He picked up the tear-filled bowl and dumped it out on the ground. Then he held it out to Mamako.
“Mamako! Can I have another?”
“You certainly can. As many as you like!”
“M-Mom…if you make him too many, we won’t get dinner!”
“Don’t worry. I have plenty of ingredients. And stories about time with you, Ma-kun? I’ve got extra helpings, giant portions, stuffed to the absolute brim! Hee-hee!”
“Yeah, let’s leave those more at the hidden-seasoning level…”
“Um, if you’re making more, can we order some?”
“Same here! For three!”
The villagers and adventurers started lining up. Soon, Mamako was surrounded by customers.
“Oh my! We’re going to be so busy! Right, Ma-kun?”
“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll help! But only if you promise not to tell too many anecdotes.”
“I can help, too! I’ll do my best!”
“Then so will—”
“Medhi. In the interest of food safety, you’re on waitress duty with me.”
“Yuzuki! Raja!” Mamako called. “Let’s combine our mother and child powers and make a lovely family dinner together! Yaaay!”
And like that, a pop-up family restaurant opened for business.
Everyone wanted to try the dish that had made the Legendary Gourmet weep.
The serving side was kept busy. Heaps of food. “And then Ma-kun—” “Stoppppp!” Served up with no shortage of embarrassing anecdotes that left one boy on the brink of death.
Mamako smiled over at Yuzuki and Raja, who were watching from a distance.
Eventually, a realization dawned on them.
“…I think Mamako’s trying to tell us something.”
“Our cooking, our memories… You know, when I was little, you almost never let me help you cook.”
“You used to grab my legs and say, ‘Let me help!’ But…the food was for the shop, so I couldn’t just—”
“You did let me help with meals we ate at home, but it was basically always curry.”
“I don’t serve that in the shop, but sometimes I just get a craving… Oh. So that’s why you’re so obsessed. Ha-ha.”
“Yeah! That’s why I make curry.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“…It’s been so long.”
“How ’bout we make something together?”
Raja held out a hand, and Yuzuki took it.
A few days later, the town’s restaurant row was abuzz.
One shop in particular was attracting the lion’s share of attention.
“This way for a family meal made by a real-life mother and daughter!”
“Enjoy Japanese food from the real world! Come on in!”
There was a large elephant statue by the door to Yuzuki’s shop.
Raja wore her belly dancer outfit and Yuzuki her kimono. Both of them were calling to the crowds.
“Mom! Don’t put it like that! Mention the curry, too!”
“Yes, yes, we also have curry. We’re competing to see which of our dishes get the most orders! Interested? Come take a look!”
“The curry croquettes and curry udon are a point for each of us!”
“Enjoy our family’s home cooking!”
They’d staked their pride on that competition and it was still ongoing—but now it was a friendly contest.
Masato’s party were relieved to see it.
“Running a single shop together resolves the separation issue.”
“That’s all the meddling we need to do. The rest is up to them.”
“Yes! They’ve gotten so close— Whoa?!” Gurgle.
“Don’t worry, Porta. I didn’t hear a thing. This case is solved—so let’s eat. Since we’re here, let’s try their shop!”
Masato took a step forward.
But Wise and Medhi both grabbed a shoulder.
“We already made your meal.”
“It’s our greatest dish yet. Dig in!”
Masato was forcibly dragged across the street to the empty lot where Raja’s shop had been.
The air was filled with a powerful spice. There was Mysterious Object X, its many legs a-wriggling.
“What the—it’s matured! It’s even more horrifying than before!”
“Get into my bellyyyy!” Grrrr.
“Wait, I’m the one being eaten?!”
Eat or be eaten—no, even if Masato won the fight, he would not eat this thing.
Who knows what Darwin would make of this survival of the fittest?
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