Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: The Secret of Taste
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-Just you watch. I'll show you exactly who's the real deal. Don't come crying to me with regrets later.
That was the overconfident declaration that had kicked everything off.
But—
"Argh! Why, why isn't it selling?!"
It was only natural, really.
The deciding factor for a novelty food like this was purely personal taste.
Branik Merenes had flooded the market with his product under the grandiose name of "Merenes Special Red Seasoning," priced cheaper than Jonathan's sauce.
At first, a few merchants picked it up for the low price, and some commoners grabbed it out of curiosity.
But that was as far as it went.
"What is this? It's just sour!"
"The taste is completely different from real Tomato Sauce. What a waste of money."
Once people tried it, they never bought his red seasoning again.
It lacked the deep, rich umami of Jonathan's sauce, offering only the sharp sourness of tomatoes mixed with crude spices.
The nobles' reaction was even worse.
With genuine product certified by the Imperial Family, the Papal Court, and the Magic Tower right there, why would they glance at some cheap knockoff with no pedigree?
Branik's brimming confidence crumbled to pieces in less than a month.
The rundown warehouse on the outskirts of the capital was packed with returned crates of Merenes Special Red Seasoning.
The red liquid in the glass bottles gleamed dimly amid the dust, as if mocking his unsold plight.
"Damn it! Why?! Mine's cheaper and comes in bigger quantities!"
Branik kicked a wooden crate in rage inside the empty warehouse.
His toe throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the burning fury in his heart.
The family funds he'd secretly siphoned off for business capital were already depleted.
The merchants refused to take his goods anymore, leaving him with nothing but debt and inventory.
"It's all that guy's fault... If it weren't for Jonathan, that bastard!"
Branik shouted alone in the empty warehouse.
Piles of returned Merenes Special Red Seasoning crates towered at his feet.
Gone was his initial confidence; his bloodshot eyes burned only with desperation and anger.
"Why?! What's the problem?!"
He scooped up a new prototype sample that a servant had just brought with a ladle and tasted it. Then he spat it straight onto the floor.
"Ptoo! Is this swill what you call food?! It's no different from just boiling tomatoes! I told you to add more spices, you idiots!"
The old chef stammered in response to his bellow.
"Y-Young master... We added the most expensive spices without sparing any, as ordered... But the more we add, the stranger it tastes..."
"No excuses! That's because you have no skill! Useless fools!"
Branik hurled the ladle at the chef.
The old man barely dodged, but hot liquid splattered onto his arm, drawing a pained groan.
But Branik's eyes were blind to the servant's suffering.
His mind was filled only with hatred for Jonathan and the misery of his own failure.
'Damn it, damn it! It's just one stupid seasoning! What the hell?!'
He'd poured through the business funds like water.
Better tomatoes, pricier spices, chefs sourced discreetly from the capital.
But the result was always the same: a sour red lump.
And the more spices he added to boost the flavor, the cruder it got, driving up costs and piling on losses.
"Why, why!! He didn't even make it himself, so how come his works and mine doesn't?!"
The enraged man kicked wildly, but nothing changed.
Only the spilled seasoning jars rolling across the floor seemed to mock him with their clattering.
*Meanwhile, Argentis County, Kandoria Castle. Lord's Chambers.*
"Here, ahh~"
"...Ahh~"
A fairly burly man was carefully offering a spoonful to a girl with hair like long-spun golden thread.
Blushing shyly, she closed her eyes and parted her small lips, accepting the spoon he held out.
The moment the warm sensation spread in her mouth, Erika's closed lashes trembled faintly.
"...!"
Her sapphire eyes snapped wide open.
A look of pure ecstasy.
She savored it slowly, swallowing only after fully appreciating the taste, then whispered in admiration.
"It's delicious, Jonathan. I eat it all the time, but it feels new every single time."
I wiped the corner of her mouth with a satisfied smile.
"I'm glad you like it so much. Does it suit your taste?"
"Yes! But it's really amazing. How do you create flavors like this? It's like you knew from the start."
"Ahaha..."
Memories flooded back of that first hunt—and the first dish that followed. The rite of passage for nobility: the first hunt.
Nobles were meant to lead from the front, a tradition carried over from the ancient days when houses sustained themselves through hunting.
The ritual called for taking the first life in the hunt and personally distributing the byproducts to etch that meaning in stone.
Of course, dissatisfied as I was with this world's cuisine, my focus had been more on the feast than the ritual itself.
And Erika had been there with me, both at the hunt and the banquet that followed.
"Anyway, that venison stew and steak back then were so good. I devoured them without thinking."
"You were a picky eater back then, Erika. Couldn't even handle carrots."
"That's not true! I eat them fine now!"
With her cheeks puffed cutely, Erika made a buh sound before turning back to me with another question.
"So, are you not going to answer?"
"Hm? Answer what?"
"How you make these flavors from the beginning, of course. If I had that kind of talent, I'd make them for you every day... Ah, no, forget I said that!"
"Pfft."
I could only laugh at Erika's cute, transparent innocence.
'How did I know? Because I came loaded with thousands of years of humanity's flavor data in my head.'
Swallowing the answer I couldn't voice aloud, I glanced at the small jar in the corner of the kitchen.
It looked like an ordinary jar at first glance, but that was the heart of my sauce—the irreplaceable secret to its flavor.
'Kombu fermented paste.'
In this world, seaweed was treated like worthless seaside trash, just like back on Earth—no, even worse.
Fishermen would curse and toss the slimy bundles caught in their nets back into the sea.
But what they discarded as garbage was gold to me.
'Kombu is a lump of L-glutamate sodium—pure umami.'
Even just boiling it in water unleashed an explosive umami flavor missing from this world's cuisine.
But it had a fatal flaw.
The more it boiled, the thicker and stickier the alginate extract became, ruining the sauce's texture and aroma.
'That's why fermentation was key.'
Ferment kombu with microbes, and the unwanted extract breaks down, leaving a pure, concentrated umami paste.
This was the core additive that bound tomato acidity, vegetable sweetness, and spice aroma into explosive harmony.
The key to completing the fifth taste—"umami"—unknown in this world.
But I had no intention of stopping there.
As the business scaled up, I'd get to craft even more exciting creations.
"—Um, Jonathan. Are you listening?"
"Huh? What'd you say?"
"Seriously! I was talking about something important!"
With a cute mmph!, Erika lightly scolded me before clearing her throat and continuing.
"Apparently, not just the Merenes family—some minor houses and merchant groups are putting out crude knockoffs of our Tomato Sauce."
"Hmm? Is that so?"
"Yes. Sales to big clients like the Imperial Family and Papal Court are solid, but in regular capital shops and provincial towns, some customers are swayed by the cheap prices, so there is a slight hit to revenue."
Worry tinged her voice, but I remained calm. It was all within expectations.
Even Earth's megacorporations rushed to copy rivals' hits, chipping away at each other's market share.
Honey butter fads, or mayo wasabi nonsense. Pathetic.
"Predictable steps. But that's as far as they'll go."
I spoke with confidence, my gaze already on the future.
"While they scramble to chase my old footsteps, we just open a new path. They'll be forever chasing my back."
I grinned, solidifying the next plan in my mind.
"Tomato Sauce is just the basics. The possibilities with this base are endless."
"Ooh, really? Then, can you tell me?"
Erika looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes full of expectation. So cute.
But I felt like teasing her a bit.
"Nope, can't do that."
"Eh? Why not...?"
Her face fell at my firm refusal.
To that, I tossed a low, playful line.
"Because the only one I want to taste my very first new sauce is you, Erika."
Her sullen expression vanished in an instant. Blushing furiously, she covered her mouth with both hands.
Her shy, joyful blue eyes trembled as they met mine.
"Really...? The very first to me...?"
"Of course. You're my top taster."
I grinned, refining the next plan in my head—one that would create an overwhelming gap no copycat could touch.
At my confident demeanor, Erika's blue eyes deepened with respect and affection.
She glanced around cautiously, then stood and approached me, as if resolved.
"J-Jonathan..."
"Yeah?"
With flushed cheeks, she drew close carefully.
Soon, she whispered a question.
"This isn't like the pension workshop last time, where people could easily see us, right...?"
"Yeah, pretty private."
"Then..."
Erika trailed off, letting actions speak instead.
She rose slightly on tiptoe, bringing her face near mine.
Her lashes fluttered close, sweet breath escaping her parted red lips.
Cherry-like lips approached slowly, steadily.
"Young master! Miss! Emergency report!"
A clamor burst in as the scribe charged into the lord's chambers, nearly breaking the door.
"Kyaa!"
Startled, Erika yelped and jumped back two steps.
The romantic mood shattered; her face burned not with shyness now, but embarrassment and a hint of resentment.
Damn it, again. This scribe is definitely my romance's arch-nemesis.
I cleared my throat and composed myself.
"What's with all the commotion?"
"S-Sorry! But it's such a major issue...!"
The scribe panted, his face mixed with unusual tension and excitement.
"The caravan from the west has arrived! They're requesting an immediate audience with the Lord Proxy at Kandoria Castle's main gate!"
"Wait, scribe. A caravan from the west—"
"Yes, exactly!"
"—The Black Elf Merchant Group wants to sell us their goods!"