The morning haze had barely lifted when Ken was already kneeling over a simmering pot of seawater. Salt crystals clung to the sides like frost on a windowpane, promising another handful of precious seasoning for the festival.
His hands moved on instinct now—cleaning, chopping, mixing—each motion smoother than the last. Experience layered itself into muscle memory, and the System quietly rewarded him for it.
---
> [Ingredient Prep EXP +10% → 20%]
[Meal Preservation EXP +5% → 67%]
---
He checked on the last of his preserved fish—strung from drying racks and lightly smoked—and lined them up with his other festival stocks. Between honey, fruit syrup, and crownroot pickles, he was building not just a menu… but an arsenal.
As his mother collected the morning garden yield, Ken walked the perimeter of their home, mentally mapping out what he needed:
Cookware? Covered.
Ingredients? Nearly there.
Wood? He'd need more for the open-fire station.
Help? Maybe he could convince a few neighbors for prep work.
But above all, he needed balance.
Sweet. Savory. Something for everyone.
---
By midday, Ken was at the river, checking his fish traps. A few fat silverbacks flopped lazily in the baskets—plenty for frying, grilling, or even stewing.
He took a moment, sitting by the riverbank, staring into the rippling current. The festival was only two days away now. And for the first time, he didn't feel like the shy, unsure boy who arrived in this world.
He felt like… a chef.
After checking his fish traps, Ken headed toward the deep woods to check his oldest pitfall traps, the ones he'd set near deer trails and watering holes days ago.
It wasn't long before he found the first one.
The leaves and grass had collapsed inward, and within the shallow trench lay a wild boar, thrashing weakly with a twisted leg. It had been trapped for a few hours at most.
Ken muttered a quick apology to the beast, ended its suffering with a clean arrow, then reinforced the second trap before moving on.
To his surprise, the second trap had also been triggered—this time by a large, shaggy-horned mountain goat. Its leg had broken in the fall, and it, too, was subdued quickly and respectfully.
He was both exhilarated and nervous. This was more meat than he'd handled at once before.
---
> [Basic Trapping EXP +8% → 75%]
[Butchering EXP +10% → 75%]
---
By midday, Ken had dressed the boar and goat, storing them in cold cellars in the shaded storage space behind the house. His father helped him haul the carcasses using a makeshift sled. Even his mother, who rarely commented on his hunts, gave an approving nod at the sight of the bounty.
"I think this will cover most of your meat needs for the festival," she said.
Ken nodded, eyes gleaming. "I want to make stews, skewers, and maybe even cured sausage links."
"You'll need help for that," his father added.
Ken already had a list of neighbors in mind.
---
Back at the stall, his regular customers were already waiting, chatting, pointing at the chalkboard where Ken had started writing meal names. Some had even started calling his corner of the market "The Little Table."
"Try the plum-glazed fish skewer today," Ken suggested to a returning customer.
"Oh, I trust you," she said, smiling. "Just make sure you make enough for the festival, alright?"
Ken gave a small bow, still not used to the praise. "I'll do my best."
---
By the end of the afternoon, he had sold out—again—and returned home to test two final versions of his festival dessert: the Honey-Crisp Cakes and a new variation of fruit-stuffed dough pockets, pan-seared and dusted with sweet clove bark.
As dusk settled, he sat by the hearth with his parents, scribbling a rotating festival menu. Each item got a star rating from his father based on taste, texture, and how well it paired with the herbal tea his mother brewed.
It felt like home. Real, grounded… purposeful.
And far from the world where he had once been a mediocre cook without direction or taste.
---
Meanwhile, in the city of Venmere, a rider arrived at a discreet manor on the west wing of the noble quarter. A messenger handed a letter to a young woman lounging beneath a shaded canopy.
She broke the seal and read the message twice, smiling.
"Looks like I've been invited to a village festival," she said with a grin. "And they need someone who can act like a commoner."
She stood, clapped her hands twice, and called for her servant. "Pack me something plain. Linen, boots, no embroidery. It's time to blend in."
---
> KEN — STATUS (End of Chapter 20)
Level: 5
EXP: 70/100
Unspent Attribute Points: 0
Skills Unlocked:
Ingredient Prep (Lv. 2 – 20%)
Fire Control (Lv. 2 – 0%)
Seasoning Sense (Lv. 2 – 5%)
Ingredient Identification (Lv. 1 – 91%)
Basic Gardening (Lv. 1 – 43%)
Basic Trapping (Lv. 1 – 67%)
Butchering (Lv. 1 – 65%)
Meal Preservation (Lv. 1 – 67%)
Food Packaging (Lv. 1 – 55%)
Clay Crafting (Lv. 1 – 4%)
Basic Archery (Lv. 1 – 60%)
---
As Ken laid his tools out for tomorrow's prep, he had no idea that hidden among the festival crowd would be a noble-born visitor, watching his every move—not with judgment, but with curiosity and admiration.
And perhaps, a spark of something more.
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