After 50 Years of Isekai Cooking, Uninvited Guests Followed
"Freedom!!!"
Assist the hero party in subjugating the Demon King directly. (3/3)
The squirrel beastman Ramji rolled on the ground as he watched the Demon King's castle crumble in the distance from afar.
It had already been fifty years since he'd reincarnated into the isekai Solas Continent, acquired a cooking-specialized AI, and just cooked away.
He'd originally been a jobless NEET, so creating thousands of recipes with the AI had been fun at first. But after cooking for so long, he'd grown sick of it.
He was famous, sure, but in a world where martial prowess ruled supreme, Ramji was nothing more than a rice shuttle.
"Teacher Ramji's touch is different from us disciples!"
"We'll protect you, so come with us!"
Those blessed by the goddess could imbue buffs into their cooking if their skills were good enough. There were plenty of others like that besides Ramji, but his name value had forced him into it half against his will.
And so, tagging along with hero parties had happened three times already.
With no combat ability, he'd get protective spells cast on him, and he never entered the mana-heavy Demon King's castle, but near-death experiences were plentiful.
"Hey, you survived anyway. Let's have a drink."
All missions completed! Before returning, briefly catch up with your comrades!!
Before setting out on the expedition, he'd already said goodbyes to acquaintances and previous heroes, so slipping away quietly would have been fine.
"Once I'm home, I should grab some cup ramen."
His mood lifted for a moment, but thinking about the future left him feeling as lost as when he'd been discharged from the military.
"With fifty years of cooking experience, it'll be better than back then."
He'd once been a Korean guy named Lee Ha-neul in his previous life. After failing the civil service exam in his late twenties, he'd started working at his family's Korean diner, Bulpae Pochaa.
An asocial loner since childhood, he couldn't handle serving customers in the dining area and only assisted his mom in the kitchen—but all he got was nagging.
It had been a popular spot with plenty of regulars even before his dad passed, so at least money wasn't an issue. They'd even survived the Xrona pandemic.
But after that, customers started dwindling, and then the decisive blow came.
A sneaky 3 million-sub YouTuber, Shin Do-young, had filmed a customer accidentally mixing two side dishes in the self-serve container and framed them for recycling scraps.
As an apology, they'd gotten a chance to appear on Shin Do-young's Health Restaurant Korea, a famous cooking competition show.
It was a localized version of the format from foreign celebrity chef Davis Ramsay's Health Restaurant, where they selected four struggling small restaurants from submissions, consulted for them, then decided eliminations based on 60% viewer vote and 40% expert judging depending on how well the owners followed advice.
The top survivor got remodeling worth hundreds of thousands to a million won, but even the others benefited from indirect advertising.
It wasn't controversy-free, but as pure competition content without public broadcast or charity pretense, it was fine.
Viewers got their dopamine hit, restaurants got promo—a win-win.
For tiny eateries, it was like hitting the lottery!!
But for Lee Ha-neul's family restaurant, it was the opposite.
There was no way the guy who'd driven them to the brink of ruin would edit them favorably. Yet the three of them, out of their minds, had jumped at it.
Shin Do-young had politicized it as, "This is what this trash restaurant was like originally!"
Executing that was Saint Chan (Seong Chan-ho), the famous Michelin 1-star chef.
Showing up right after the busy hour for a surprise inspection, ransacking the kitchen was standard. With little restaurant experience, the clumsy Ha-neul got grilled like a rat in a trap, and his brother—who occasionally checked stocks at the counter—became a witch-hunt target via devilish editing.
Even his mom's cooking, which had sold well pre-Xrona, got trashed. But she hesitated to change her late husband's recipes, and sly editing turned her into a stubborn mule.
The three had their faults, sure, but compared to that, getting called utterly hopeless idiots and showered in abuse was overkill.
Their rating, which had plummeted after the side dish scandal but recovered to 3 stars, tanked back to the low 1s.
They got the mid-elimination ending, and later got tangled with Saint Chan's franchise, losing even their light.
"They probably closed up and started somewhere new."
Ha-neul's recipes were fantasy versions, but many ingredients were compatible with modern Earth.
A bit annoying, but after fifty years, a few more wouldn't kill him.
Plus, he could take the cooking AI, so he was confident in his skills.
And on peaceful Earth, rice shuttles got repackaged as "chefs"—even better.
"Michelin's a hassle, so just snag 1 star, save up, and hit the autos..."
Lee Ha-neul's vision blurred.
The door to the empty house creaked open, and in walked a stunning elf with green short bob hair—Alicia.
Having grazed on grass for seventy years until discovering gourmet food via Ramji's cooking, the elf stared pale at the vanishing Ramji [Lee Ha-neul].
"Wha... you're joking, right???????????"
It was just like when his previous life's oshi VTuber Ferolong announced her graduation. Her eyes were dead—eerie.
"Was she spacing out when I said I was returning??"
Leaving unresolved questions behind, Lee Ha-neul's vision went black.
A heavenly space blending white clouds and fountains. In its center, on an ornate chair, sat the Goddess of Gastronomy, devouring a recreation of Ramji's latest spaghetti.
"Why'd you call me? Just send me back already. I told you the conditions before, right??"
"You might've forgotten, so I called you again. And thanks!!"
The goddess waved two hands over her head, and numbers popped up: 1577 → 93.
"Thanks to my incarnation slaying the Demon King three times, my rank shot up to 93rd!!"
"No gifts? Then hurry up and send me home."
The cooking AI was "cheaty," but she'd used the "rank 1000s, no power" excuse to give zero other skills for fifty years.
Having dealt with this stingy goddess for half a century, Ramji had low expectations.
"Hehe. Alright... let's see. First: Return you to the time right before reincarnation, even after fifty years."
"Yeah."
"Second: Not in squirrel beastman form, but a body hairless below the eyebrows."
Source sticking to fur while cooking was gross, and fleabites turned nights into hell.
"And third... this one's the weirdest..."
The goddess's gaze shifted to the cooking-specialized AI Yui floating beside the furry Ramji.
A beauty in an exhibitionist's outfit barely covered by sheer fabric. Decades ago, during the first Demon King expedition, they'd implanted the persona of a woman named Yui—who'd sacrificed for Ramji—into the AI.
"Return with the soul of Yui attached to this AI. No regrets?"
"Nope."
"You know the AI performance drops to level 1, right??"
"I know."
The cooking AI hadn't started high-spec, nor had Yui's persona. It grew via learning from level 1, capacity exploding exponentially. Implanting dead Yui's soul meant a rank-93 goddess lacked power to send it all to Earth intact.
High-spec AI vs. Yui's life—he'd chosen the latter.
Beyond saving his lifesaver, there was a bigger reason: This Yui was the same as his pre-reincarnation oshi VTuber Ferolong's mama (illustrator) Yui.
Asking about Yui and Ferolong on Earth always got [Restricted content.], but nagging enough might jailbreak it someday.
With fifty years' chops and key recipes tattooed on his body, low-spec AI was fine.
"In exchange, I prepared a gift."
"What gift from a cheapskate like you??"
"I peeked at what you'll do after leaving and felt sorry..."
As goddess and incarnation, reading his inner thoughts was child's play.
"Clinging to a restaurant on the brink of closure to watch your oshi VTuber's funeral?"
"Not a funeral—a graduation stream. And once I'm healthy later..."
"Doesn't Ferolong end up dead anyway?"
"Ugh..."
Even reincarnated, the name Ferolong and her panel would vanish. The culturally clueless goddess had nailed it.
"I'll use my remaining power to rewind time, so show gratitude with tasty Earth food."
Bzzzz—!!
Ha-neul's vision blurred again.
"If time rewinds... to which point??"
Lee Ha-neul's family restaurant had gone on Shin Do-young's Health Restaurant Korea, suffered witch hunts, then got a visit from Chef Saint Chan (Seong Chan-ho).
He'd earned his Michelin 1-star during U.S. studies, with glowing reviews for character too.
He'd been harsh on Ha-neul... but that was broadcast persona, he'd apologized. His proposal: A franchise white rice diner joint venture with the conglomerate he and his wife belonged to.
Clutching that lifeline, thinking Seong Chan-ho would be different, they'd opened it.
But like any franchise, it just burned money and years before collapsing.
Plus Ha-neul drowning sorrows in five bottles of soju over oshi VTuber Ferolong's graduation...
Waking in isekai, fifty years cooking.
Pondering the best return point, Ha-neul realized it was pointless.
"Just play stocks and coins!!"
Ha-neul wasn't into investing, but brother Lee Ha-seong was obsessed, always lamenting "Shoulda sold XXXX..."—major tickers stuck in memory.
Of course, he wondered if his isekai recipes would work on Earth.
"Figure that slowly... First, plan purchases post-return!"
Ding-a-ling!!
"Urgh..."
The familiar yet unheard-for-fifty-years alarm jolted her body upright reflexively.
Throwing off the thin blanket, a chill ran through her.
"Chuu..."
Lee Ha-neul's voice upon return was changed. A high-pitched squeak like an Animal Crossing character huffing helium.
Thinking she'd solo'd a coin karaoke last night, she grabbed her phone.
Late August 2026.
"Health Restaurant appearance done... before tangling with Seong Chan-ho."
And way before fave VTuber Ferolong's debut.
"This timeline's manageable."
Memories resurfaced.
Post-Health Restaurant backlash, he'd announced a tuna trawler gig to rally spirits—but flaked.
Declared night shifts to family but got fired quick. Too ashamed to admit, he'd pretended to leave for work, pulled all-nighters at PC bangs, stumbled home to crash.
Too broke to eat, he'd just watch the guy next door devour spicy stir-fried noodles, then trudge back to sleep.
"Gotta eat some spicy stir-fry... urgh..."
Wind whistled through cracks in the rundown villa's walls.
"Still summer—why so cold??"
She'd asked the goddess for a hairless-below-eyebrows body, sure...
"Huh??"
Reflexively checking the powered-on PC monitor, an unreal silhouette of a smiling girl appeared.
Some game stream? But below the face hung a realistically sagging black tank top.
Peeking pale skin in between. Lifting an arm—not the beastman fur, a barren plain.
"I-It'sh okay even if I don't have hair anymore..."
Tiny face with chubby cheeks. Straight brown hair neatly framing big brown eyes.
"Belly hungry~~"
Lisping out, she stuck out her tongue—much shorter.
Cute look, but... no womanly curves under the slipped tank top. A flat, hairless kid's body.
"Gotta feed it milk."
Bowing her head, gym shorts' hem reached past knees to shins.
The goddess had overdone her "hairless below eyebrows" wish.
"How'm I shupposed to work like thish, you damn bitch!!"
Fantasy beastman tattoos of recipes? Gone.
Was Lee Ha-neul okay like this? Could she even cook?
Heading to the kitchen, much shorter now, she climbed a stool, straining to grab a ramen pack.
Meanwhile... Plop!!!!
One egg from squirrel beastman Ramji days tumbled from her pants pocket.
A monster egg the hero party's elf Alicia had given him to fry later.
Oh, trying Earth stir-fried noodles? I only know it from data—first time seeing the real thing!!
Unaware, Ha-neul filled a pot with water and set it to boil, waking her old friend, the cooking AI Yui.
You like crispy noodles, right? Or the mushy kind??
"You know I like 'em crispy."
Right. Boil 23.2 seconds faster than the instructions say!
An AR timer spun above the pot like a hologram.
"Good, the AI came too."
As she sighed in relief, the egg on the floor cracked, birthing an emerald-green sparrow.
Pat pat pat.
A Crimson Parrot, monster parrot specializing in voice mimicry and polymorphing—grows to Demon Army exec level. Same species as the Tower 40th floor boss in London's spire.
It waddled across Ha-neul's floor.
Still oblivious to the Crimson Parrot's existence—or that this was a parallel Earth with Towers and hunters—Ha-neul was lost in her first spicy stir-fry in fifty years, unaware what chaos the cooking-addicted bird might unleash.