Surviving the Liebringer Mansion, Part 1
"You are quite confident in your cooking? What on earth..."
Yena, whose face had remained a mask of strict professionalism, looked as if her soul had temporarily departed her body at my boast.
Drin Libringer had invited guests for dinner. However, with the chef absent, serving dinner was practically impossible. Under such circumstances, who in their right mind would raise their hand and say, "Oh, then I'll cook. I'm actually pretty good at it"?
Anyone with even a basic understanding of the rules of high society—etiquette, manners, saving face—would never utter such words.
But so what? Who cares? I'm a squinty-eyed character.
Being sly and shameless was a basic requirement in my line of work.
If I played the squinty-eyed card and acted like, 'Hey, I'm just a commoner, how should I know high society rules?' a noble-born lady like Yena had no real counter.
Nobles tended to prioritize face and formality over efficiency and logic in public, but they weren't so ignorant as to believe that was actually the right way to live. They only followed it because it was custom, tradition, and the rules.
But when an ecosystem-destroying commoner who didn't know a single rule showed up in a formal setting watched by nobles of other families? The best a noble could do was ignore or avoid them.
Yet, I wasn't just any commoner right now. For all intents and purposes, I was a guest who had accompanied Drin to the mansion at her invitation.
"..."
That was why Yena stood frozen like a statue, unable to take action. She couldn't openly ignore me, nor could she avoid me.
A human disaster who gets caught in a game of tag and deadpans, "Why am I out? I'm still alive." That was probably how I looked in Yena's eyes right now.
In this situation, the best response Yena could muster wasn't to explain the rules of tag in painstaking detail.
'Ugh, what is wrong with this guy? I'm telling them not to invite him next time.' Gritting her teeth for the future while humoring me for now to avoid ruining the atmosphere—that was the best she could do.
Yena pushed up her glasses, her expression settling into a business-like mask.
"While we are deeply grateful for your offer, Lord Sillon, you are a guest visiting this mansion. Asking you to take charge of dinner would be incredibly rude of us..."
Yena let her voice trail off gently. Even the most oblivious fool would realize that her worried demeanor hid a polite rejection.
But so what? As I've already established, I'm a squinty-eyed character. A polite rejection? That wasn't going to stop me.
"Haha, rude? Nonsense! Please don't say that. I'm doing this because I want to. After all, did you know that most people who are good at cooking also happen to love doing it?"
"..."
The squinty-eyed conqueror renders the trap of polite rejection completely futile. Speechless, Yena slowly closed her eyes. Is that so? Are you feeling despair right now?
Soon, Yena opened her eyes again, returning to her usual cold, professional demeanor.
"If you are to take responsibility for dinner in the chef's absence, I shall officially appoint you as the person in charge. Furthermore, we will prepare a reward commensurate with your performance."
It sounded like she was generously promising a reward, but once again, there was a hidden motive. 'Officially appoint you as the person in charge.' In other words, the moment I stepped into the kitchen, I would no longer be a guest, but a daily part-timer.
The implication was simple. If I did well, I'd get rewarded. But if I messed up, I'd be held responsible. And if I were held responsible, Yena would undoubtedly put me on the Liebringer Mansion blacklist.
She'd probably put me on the 'Bad Influence Lady Drin Must Avoid' list too. I had a hunch this overprotective maid was thinking the exact same thing. She wanted to use this opportunity to completely sever my ties with our Lady Drin.
It was a head-on collision between a dark Drin fan and a light Drin fan. Naturally, I was the light Drin fan.
"Oh...! A reward! Now that gets my fire going! I'll show you my full, unadulterated skills today!"
When I readily agreed once more, two emotions flickered across Yena's professional facade: fatigue and stubbornness.
"Very well. Then, accepting your goodwill, I shall entrust the preparation of tonight's dinner at this mansion entirely to you, Lord Sillon."
Only then did I feel eyes on me and turn around. Lady Aidrin, Lady Miz, and Adela were all staring at me with worried eyes. Their gazes seemed to ask, 'Are you really going to be okay?'
I flashed them the most confident smile I could muster to tell them not to worry.
"You can all look forward to it."
But my smile only made the three ladies look even more skeptical. Honestly, their understanding of squinty-eyed characters was severely lacking. To worry about a dinner prepared by a squinty-eyed guy?
Well, to be fair, they probably weren't worried about the taste of my food, but rather my fate if things went south. If I messed up here, I'd be thoroughly blacklisted by the Liebringer family.
Even I had to admit it was a reckless breakthrough. But I had no choice. If I missed this chance, Yena would prepare my guest room and then privately warn me to stay away from Lady Drin. At that moment, I'd practically receive a restraining order from the Liebringer family.
If that happened, it would severely hinder my progress in future quests. Most of all, I wouldn't be able to hang out with our Lady Drin anymore.
Grass dies without sunlight. I die if I can't see our Lady Drin. It was basic common sense. I was currently struggling just to survive.
Of course, things might change if our Lady Drin spoke up for me, but I couldn't afford to owe her a favor. If anything, I had to make her indebted to me. That way, I could tease our Lady Drin to my heart's content.
Come to think of it, how was our Lady Drin taking all of this?
"Sillon, will you truly be able to satisfy my palate? I may not look it, but I am quite the gourmet."
Our Lady Drin had a mischievous, competitive look on her face, as if some sort of duel had just begun.
Did she think that if my cooking didn't suit her taste, it would be her victory? Had a match already begun in her mind with its own set of rules?
Haha. It seemed our peerlessly talented swordsmanship genius, Lady Drin, might be unmatched in the sword, but she had little interest in political maneuvering. I could understand, if only a little, why the Liebringer family had attached the sharp-witted Yena to her side.
Even so, they couldn't just serve food prepared by an unverified stranger to guests at the Liebringer Mansion.
"Please make yourselves comfortable."
While Yena and I had our verification session in the kitchen with the other maids, the rest of the group enjoyed tea time in the guest room. If I passed, it would lead straight to dinner. If I failed, we would disband immediately.
"Now then—"
Once I parted from the group, Yena's gaze grew even colder. It felt as though she might say, 'Someone like you is unfit to associate with our Lady Drin, so would you please keep your distance?' at any moment.
"To start, would you mind cooking this?"
Yena handed me a neatly wrapped slab of meat. A whole cut of meat—cooking a steak. It was the best way to test someone's culinary skills in a short amount of time.
Normally, of course, I wouldn't have the slightest clue how to cook a steak. Raw meat pretending to be medium-rare, or a rubbery chunk pretending to be medium-rare, based on some half-baked YouTube video—that would have been the best result I could produce.
◈ You are a culinary expert. You have tasted and created countless flavors.
◈ There may be flavors you do not know, but there are no flavors you cannot understand.
◈ Always keep an eye on your spouse's belly fat.
But things were different now. I currently possessed the will of the Pewter City Gym Leader from the Kanto region. Why on earth the will of a Gym Leader would help with cooking was beyond me, but somehow, that was how it turned out.
Let's see... Through my trait, I looked at the slab of meat from the perspective of a culinary expert. Instantly, a flood of information rushed into my brain through my eyes and nose: fat content, freshness, cut of meat, aging level—whoa, wait.
This is a bit much. I had barely had a staring contest with the meat, yet my head was already packed with too much information. This wasn't the kind of talent you got just from always cooking for your companions.
Did I go and do it again? Click, click. Wow, this cooking skill is insane. Realizing I had acquired yet another monstrous talent through some irresponsible clicking, a bitter taste filled my mouth. I felt so guilty I couldn't face the aspiring chefs currently getting cursed out by foul-mouthed head chefs just to learn the trade.
Tsk. But what could I do? The trait was already a part of me. Sorry, chefs of the world. I'm going to have to cheese this one.
I shall put this precious talent to good use for my own selfish desires. Before I knew it, countless recipes to cook this meat had already formulated in my mind.
"How would you like it cooked?"
Rare, medium-rare, medium, medium-well? Bring it on!
"First, our Lady Drin prefers a doneness level of four, so could you prepare it to doneness level four?"
Huh? What on earth is that?