Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: The Red Whale Premiere
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11.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting darkness over the land, the citizens finished their hard day's labor and gathered to wet their throats with a mug of beer. This was the tavern owners' golden hour.
At that time, inside the Red Whale—the largest tavern in western Ispellia—the atmosphere was a bit different from the usual bustle.
"Hey, Gordon! What's that bedsheet on the wall? Did you piss yourself or something?"
Regular customer Hans, entering the shop, pointed at the wall and cackled.
It was because a massive white cloth, unlike anything they'd seen before, was prominently hung on the wall that usually had faded wanted posters plastered all over it.
Gordon, the owner who had been wiping tables, greeted the customer with a solemn expression.
"Hans, you came at the perfect time today. I've prepared something absolutely spectacular for you to see."
"Something to see? What, did you hire a dancer with big tits? If so, I'm all in."
"Ha, way better than that cheap stuff. You can look forward to it."
Gordon smiled meaningfully and glanced at the clock.
There were still about 30 minutes until 7 o'clock.
Gordon was itching to play that astonishing footage right away, but he summoned his patience and held back.
That young noble scion, Young Master Leban, hadn't advised him otherwise?
"Show it when people are hungriest and thirstiest for booze. That's when the footage will have maximum impact."
Gordon kept glancing nervously at the clock.
At the end of that breathless wait, the clock finally struck exactly 7 p.m.
Gordon swallowed dryly, stepped to the center of the hall, and raised his voice.
"Alright, alright! Attention everyone! Stop your chatter for a sec and look over here!"
At his shout, the rowdy tavern fell silent for a moment.
"Anyone who came to the Red Whale today is extremely lucky. You're about to witness the world premiere of the greatest show endorsed by the royal family itself! Don't even blink. Miss a single scene, and you'll regret it for life!"
"What is it? What's the big deal?"
"Shut up and bring more booze!"
As the drunks murmured, the waitstaff, at Gordon's signal, dimmed the tavern lights all at once.
In that moment of confusion from the sudden darkness.
Flash-!
A beam of light shot from the black box hanging on the ceiling and hit the white cloth on the wall.
"...Gasp!"
"W-what the hell is that?!"
The noisy tavern went dead silent in an instant, like a miracle.
Hans, who had been bringing his beer mug to his lips; the customers wolfing down their food; even the waitstaff bustling between tables taking orders—all stood frozen with mouths agape.
- "We will now begin the preliminaries of Royal Chef Survival!"
Lucius's stern voice echoed through the shop, and only then did people catch their breath.
"That... isn't that the cooking contest held outside the city walls a few days ago?"
"No way, they recorded it with a crystal orb?"
"You idiot, crystal orbs are only palm-sized! How could they make such a huge image?"
No one there knew it, but...
This was the historic moment when footage first began spreading to the masses worldwide.
Soon, as the 100 chefs in the footage began chopping in unison, a strange tension filled the tavern.
Flames roaring high, hands moving swiftly, beads of sweat forming on the participants' foreheads.
The viewers felt as if they were right in the middle of that heated contest venue.
"Hey, hey! That guy's gonna cut his hand!"
"Oh no! He burned the potatoes! What an idiot!"
"Ugh... look at the judges' eyes. Gives me chills down my spine."
When Sir James issued a rebuke and snatched a participant's chef's hat, tossing it away, the tavern customers winced and shrugged their shoulders in sympathy.
Conversely, when appetizing dishes filled the screen, everyone gulped in unison as if on cue.
All completely immersed, sucked into the screen.
And when the customers' immersion peaked... Samuel's 'Aligot' appeared on the screen.
The scene of that fantastical dish—with cheese and potatoes blended, stretching long and smooth—being judged.
- "Ahh, a flavor as soft as a woman's lips and as warm as a mother's embrace."
Marquis Frederick, the kingdom's top gourmet, closed his eyes in rapture.
Naturally, saliva pooled in the mouths of the watching customers.
What could it taste like to earn such rave reviews even from a noble lord?
At that moment of skyrocketing curiosity!
The screen suddenly froze, and the room lit up bright.
"Huh? What?!"
"Gordon! Why'd it stop?! Show the next part quick!"
"You ain't gonna charge us to see the rest, are you? You greedy old bastard!"
Customers at peak excitement pounded tables in fierce protest.
But amid that explosive atmosphere, owner Gordon wore a relaxed smile.
"Calm down a bit and hear me out, folks. You're dying to know what happens next, sure... but aren't you more curious about the taste of that dish?"
At Gordon's words, the uproar gradually quieted.
"The dish raved about by Marquis Frederick, the kingdom's greatest gourmet... Don't you want to try this Aligot?"
He gestured dramatically toward the kitchen.
There, a pure white dish steamed invitingly in a pot.
Gordon scooped up a generous ladleful and slowly poured it onto a plate, as if to let them see for themselves.
At that instant, the Aligot flowed slowly and smoothly, just like in the footage, right before the eyes of the seated customers.
"The Aligot you just saw is right here! Made by perfectly recreating the recipe from a former Royal Chef!"
Gordon held up one finger.
"This incredible dish—for just 1 gold!"
1 gold.
An absurdly high price for a potato dish.
A price that would normally earn him a barrage of thief insults.
But no one cared about the price.
Their brains were dominated by the instinct screaming, 'Eat that now.'
"Over here! Two Aligots please!"
"Two beers and that potato thing!"
"Hurry! I'm getting dizzy!"
Orders flooded in.
Screams erupted from the kitchen as cooks mashed potatoes frantically, while cheers rose from the hall as customers tasted Aligot while watching the resumed footage.
"Wooo! Number 88 passes!"
"Damn, I knew that guy would make it! Southern cuisine is the best after all!"
The Red Whale brimmed with the mingled scents of food and booze, and the heat of the crowd.
Amid that vibrant scene, Gordon's laughter rang clear as he raked in the nonstop gold coins.
It was the tavern's highest sales night since opening.
The next day.
The capital was turned upside down, just as you'd expect.
"Hey, did you see [Royal Chef Survival]?"
"What's that?"
"You didn't? Tsk tsk... You missed half your life."
People who'd seen the footage at taverns or eateries the night before started bragging, and rumors spread like wildfire.
And I? I poured fuel straight onto those flames.
In the plazas, markets, city gates.
Wherever people gathered, I ordered crystal orbs set up to loop a 10-minute trailer all day.
It cost a bit... but ads work best when they're expensive, right?
I didn't realize it was more like tossing a match into a powder keg.
What I overlooked was that these innocent isekai folks had zero immunity to 'cliffhanger tactics.'
I just recalled trailers from my past life and cut off right at the scene where Sir James eats Meylin's potato,
[Watch the full footage at stores with screening rights!]
That's all I added as subtitles.
How could I have predicted this explosive backlash?
"Open the door! Open up!!"
"Don't push!"
"Damn it, couldn't get in yesterday, but today I'm seeing it no matter what!"
"You bastard, no cutting! I've been waiting two hours!"
From midday, shops were mobbed, completely gridlocked.
Those who couldn't get in sat right on the streets to eavesdrop on sounds leaking from windows.
Streets clogged,
nearby merchants scowled and yelled,
pickpockets ran rampant in the chaos,
line-cutters clashed with blockers, starting brawls.
Guards deployed nonstop to disperse crowds, but it was futile against mobs addicted to dopamine.
And naturally, the culprit behind this mess was me.
"Leban BlackStone. Princess Yuria von Ispell summons you."
So when the royal guards knocked on our mansion door, I had a gut feeling.
I was pretty much screwed.