Quest (4)

I finished sorting the golden acorns from the regular ones.

Divided like this, the ratio came out to roughly one to five. There was certainly an immense bounty of acorns overall, but turning them into jelly would easily shrink their volume by more than half. I picked up a single golden acorn and studied it closely.

I wonder what kind of effect this thing has?

The golden apple had granted youth and vitality, but this was uncharted territory. Furthermore, acorns were never meant to be eaten raw, making it precarious to simply pop one into my mouth.

Should I mix them together, or prepare them separately?

That posed a dilemma of its own. I rolled the golden acorn between my fingers for a long moment, turning it this way and that, before finally tossing it into my mouth and biting down. If eating it caused problems, I could always chug an Elixir.

Crack! Crunch!

It was undeniably hard—immensely so, in fact—yet not entirely impossible to chew through.

“Bleeaaargh!”

What followed, however, was a monstrous assault of bitter, puckering astringency. The foul taste detonated across my entire mouth, instantly numbing my tongue. Panicking, I yanked open the water hose and blasted the inside of my mouth, but the wretched astringency refused to fade.

“Ptooey! Cough! Ack… ugh…”

“……”

When my senses finally cleared, I found Bbarmbo staring down at me with profound disdain. At the very least, Bbarmbo was the only member of our troupe to witness my idiotic display. Gritting my teeth and scowling fiercely, I retreated into the cavern.

[Hm? You bear the countenance of one who has chewed upon dung.]

“Pretty close.”

[Did you truly?]

“Roughly the equivalent of curry-flavored shit.”

Giving Cain a perfunctory reply, I scooped up a spoonful of honey and swallowed it. As the velvety sweetness coated my throat, I finally felt like I could breathe again. Eating them raw was an absolute, unequivocal impossibility.

Golden or not, this stuff has to be turned into jelly.

With that firm resolution, I accessed the Gallery to wrap up the day’s affairs. Having snapped a few photos of the squirrel earlier, I figured it was time to share today's findings.

Sharing the fruits of my day's exploration drew a crowd in an instant. Anonymous commentators and fixed handles alike chimed in with their thoughts, and the upvote counter climbed briskly. Since I wouldn't be broadcasting kangaroo brawl tournaments for a while, I wondered what else I could use the forum's recording function for.

Well, if another sporting event comes along later, I can stream that instead.

After leaving a few replies, I put up another question. To make acorn jelly, you had to grind them down first. Right now, they were being thoroughly scrubbed and soaked to leech out the bitter tannins. And who did I task with that labor? Ggobongi, naturally. Though he grumbled incessantly, he always followed orders, which steadily endeared him to me.

Everything listed on the auction house has terrible reviews, though.

So I created a post asking if anyone possessed a decent tool for grinding acorns.

It faintly felt as though she was clearing out her clutter by dumping it on me, but I accepted with genuine gratitude. After all, they were precisely what I needed.

Shortly thereafter, I inspected the cooking apparatus—if it could even be called that—sent over by Starlight Princess. The foremost piece was a cylindrical mechanism with a circular aperture in its center. At first glance, I had mistook it for a traditional stone millstone, especially since it sported an obvious crank handle.

Whirrrrrr!

“Oh!”

It was completely different from an ordinary millstone. The moment I grasped the handle, I realized its secret: as soon as I channeled mana into it, the mechanism began spinning rapidly entirely on its own. It wasn't a modern blender, but an Automated Mana Mortar. It was an uncanny marvel in its own right.

Did magic develop to fill the void where science was absent?

Regardless of its origins, I had acquired a splendid tool. All that remained was the preparation. I checked on the acorns Ggobongi had finished washing. Since I planned to serve this as a dessert rather than a side dish, I had instructed him to clean only the golden acorns.

“Hey. Ggobongi.”

“What.”

“We can’t just chuck them in whole. Pound them down a bit first. Here, take this mortar and pestle.”

“……”

“You got a problem with that? Want me to skip your dinner?”

“Bad guy.”

Only after crushing the acorns into fragments using the mortar I bought from the auction house did Ggobongi’s chores finally conclude. The next step was feeding the crushed pieces into the automated mill.

Normally, one had to set a bowl beneath a millstone, but this contraption made even that unnecessary.

Grind, grind, grind, whirrrr—

The instant I dropped the acorn pieces into the top opening, silky powder began cascading out from a lower chute. I had no idea how the internal machinery functioned, but it was remarkably efficient. Once all the golden acorn fragments were thoroughly pulverized, I sifted the flour through the fine sieve.

Now, to mix this with water.

I added two spoonfuls of salt to season the slurry. After stirring briskly to dissolve the salt, I emptied the mixture into a broad cooking pot. This was where the process demanded delicate attention. Boiling it over an open flame was fine, but there was a precise moment when the liquid began to thicken and coagulate. You had to drop the heat to low at that exact juncture to avert catastrophe.

Since fine temperature control is impossible out here…

I pulled several burning logs out of the hearth instead. That would suffice. While the mixture thickened into a dense paste, I stirred in two spoonfuls of cooking oil. After roughly thirty minutes of continuous stirring, the batter would become thick enough that moving the wooden spatula felt like dragging it through wet cement.

All set.

Lastly, I poured the viscous golden batter into molds to let it set. Once it cooled and solidified, our acorn jelly would be complete.

“Sir Ludwig! We’re getting dinner ready, come on out!”

I summoned Ludwig to help prepare the meal. Hearing my shout, Wonmo and Tyrano came tottering out from the cave depths as well.

“No touching. That’s dessert.”

“Kyuu?”

Wonmo sniffed curiously around the jelly molds, but I shooed him away immediately. Considering that a pure carnivore like Wonmo was captivated by it, it must have smelled appetizing even to wild beasts.

While Ludwig and I roasted fish, I browsed the Gallery’s trade boards.

Isn't there any soy sauce around?

While I was at it, I wanted some chili peppers too. However, soy sauce was obscenely expensive. Historically on Earth, condiments like cooking oil and soy sauce were luxurious commodities, and this fantasy realm seemed no different. Perhaps due to the prevalence of mana and magic, the economic balance of mundane goods was bizarrely distorted.

I purchased a flask of soy sauce with solid reviews, then sent a private message to Grow Big and Strong.

I acquired the chili seeds from Grow Big and Strong, who remained an agricultural fanatic to the bone. Plain soy sauce was a bit dull on its own, so I planned to dice fresh chilies to steep inside it.

I should ask for garlic later, too.

Now that we had an established vegetable garden, the culinary quality of our meals improved with every passing day. After finishing a cozy, harmonious dinner with the shelter family, I brought out the dessert.

“Alright, time to taste-test. This is called Golden Acorn Jelly, a traditional dish from my homeland.”

[It appears somewhat reminiscent of konjac jelly.]

“The texture is fairly similar, yes.”

The long-awaited moment of tasting had arrived. Perhaps because it was crafted from golden acorns, the jelly bore a radiant amber hue rather than the typical earthy brown. It looked like it ought to taste like lemon gelatin, yet it was undeniably acorn jelly.

“Ppii…”

Finding its quivering, gelatinous form thoroughly bizarre, Tyrano hesitated, unlike the gluttonous Wonmo.

“Tyrano, you don’t have to force yourself if you don’t want to.”

Chomp, slurp, gulp!

The moment the words left my mouth, Wonmo began scarfing down his portion with wild abandon.

“Or Wonmo can just eat yours, too.”

“!!!”

Tyrano’s eyes went wide with an expression that screamed, Anything but that! Instantly, the little dragon dove in, happily devouring the seasoned jelly in greedy mouthfuls.

I chuckled at the sight and leisurely took a bite myself. Tender, bouncy, and delightfully chewy, it had set to perfection.

“Mmm.”

It had been ages since I last tasted acorn jelly. What would this batch taste like? Having been made from golden acorns rather than ordinary ones, the flavor had to be distinct.

“Oh?”

Savory. Immensely savory. That was the very first impression that washed over my palate. Standard acorn jelly tended to have a mild nuttiness shadowed by a touch of bitterness, balanced out by salty seasoned soy sauce. But this golden jelly possessed an overwhelming, rich savoriness. It was as though I had taken a sip of pure, freshly pressed sesame oil.

It was delicious. If we had eaten this during dinner, its profound savoriness would have completely overpowered the taste of everything else on the table.

“Excellent.”

“Tasty.”

“Kyuu! Kyu!”

“Ppiiik!”

Rave reviews erupted from every corner. When the ingredients were this extraordinary, whatever you prepared was bound to taste divine.

“This really is great. If I knew it’d be this good, I would’ve harvested more of—”

Before I could even finish my sentence—

Pssssssssshhh!

Steam hissed into the air, exactly like an electric pressure cooker releasing its vent after finishing a batch of rice. And where was it coming from?

From Ludwig, right across from me. And not just him—the exact same thing was happening to everyone else.

“B-Bbarmbo, you too?!”

“……”

Bbarmbo, Ggobongi, Wonmo, Tyrano, and even Largo, who had merely taken a polite nibble. I assumed I had been spared, only to realize that white vapor was wafting from my own skin as well, merely obscured by the dense clouds rising from the beasts.

“W-What on earth is happening?!”

“#%$^…?”

Ludwig turned to me, demanding to know what kind of food caused this. Having just muttered the same question myself, I couldn't provide an answer. Fortunately, the hiss of escaping steam gradually petered out before long.

Just as I began to suspect this was merely the unique magical property of the Golden Acorn Jelly—

“Kyuuuuaaaargh!”

“Ppieeeeeeek!”

For reasons unknown, Wonmo and Tyrano burst into shrill, frantic wails. Startled, I whipped my head around to witness a surreal spectacle: both cubs were clamping their front paws desperately over their snouts, thrashing in sheer agony.

Before I could even ask what was wrong—

“Gah—cough?!”

A foul, apocalyptic stench assaulted my nostrils. It was a suffocating rot so horrific that it obliterated any lingering savoriness from the golden jelly in an instant. It was so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠repulsive that even breathing through my mouth made me gag violently.

I-Is this poison?! Quick, my gas mask…!

I frantically reached out to rummage through my inventory for the gas mask. In doing so, my eyes caught sight of something bizarre clinging to my forearm. Thick, jet-black grime had coalesced along my skin, as though decades of accumulated filth had been violently purged to the surface at once.

Without thinking, I brought my arm closer to my face.

Sniff, sniff.

“Bwaaaaaargh?!”

The ungodly stench was coming from my own body. No, to be precise, the foul odor was emanating from our entire party. Ludwig, who was clutching his nose in absolute misery, had it far worse—pitch-black sludge coated more than half of his arms.

C-Could it be…?

I finally grasped the supernatural efficacy of the Golden Acorn Jelly: total marrow-cleansing and body purification. But understanding the theory did nothing to alleviate the reality. The stench was catastrophically unbearable.

I immediately barked out orders.

“S-Sir Ludwig!”

“#%?”

“Strip! We have to wash with cold water right now!”

There was no time to boil water. Even if we froze, we had no choice. Leaving this stench to fester would suffocate us all within minutes.

[A blessing indeed, that I lack the sense of smell.]

I fiercely ignored Cain’s serene, unaffected commentary.

“Ah! Right! Tyrano! Can you heat the water basin with your breath?!”

“Ppieeeek!”

“If you endure the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smell and help out, I’ll make you Sweet Potato Mattang!”

“Ppi… ppiek?”

Thanks to Tyrano’s dragon breath heating the water supply, the immediate crisis was brought under control. Yet even with warm water, scrubbing everyone down took an immense amount of time. Largo presented a monumental challenge on his own; washing a beast of that towering scale was a grueling ordeal.

“You little bastard! Get over here and wash! You reek to high heaven!”

“……”

“Sir Ludwig! Grab him! Why the hell is he so fast only at times like this?!”

The most exhausting struggle of all was Bbarmbo. Even though the giant sloth knew he reeked abominably, he stubbornly refused to be bathed. Perhaps because all bodily impurities had been violently expelled, his agility had skyrocketed; despite Ludwig and me teaming up to corner him, Bbarmbo slipped past our grasp with uncanny grace. He waddled around on his hind legs with his arms raised like a giant ape, completely untouchable.

Just as we were on the verge of throwing in the towel—

“Kyuuu…”

“Ppiiii…”

Wonmo and Tyrano began inching away from Bbarmbo, recoiling in undisguised disgust. Even if he was family, filth was filth, and their reaction was unmistakable.

“……”

Struck by the harsh sting of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rejection, Bbarmbo finally slumped his shoulders and meekly submitted to his bath. Evidently, he was completely defenseless against the children’s disapproval.

And thus, another eventful, chaotic day in the forest drew to a close.

While Grylls quietly concluded his evening in anticipation of the morrow, far across the dimensional void—

“Heavens above! This is a miracle! A divine herb capable of restoring life to that which was dead is veritable peer to the elixir of immortality itself!”

“Hm.”

“If only we could cultivate this mystical grass! We could bring every unfilial rascal beneath the heavens into the sacred fold of our Demonic Cult!”

Yu Sowol sat impassively, listening to Physician Song’s impassioned, weeping lecture. She harbored no particular interest in the matter, humoring him solely because he was the paramount physician of the Demonic Cult.

Is it truly an affair worthy of such grand commotion?

She was genuinely perplexed.

And indeed, she could not help but wonder—

For that profound, desperate sorrow was an emotion that could only ever be understood by those who had suffered the loss of their own hair.