Life Is Ultimately About Meat
"I was originally a man!"
I shouted at the two of them — the ones who had somehow gotten it into their heads that only my arms and legs had ended up in this sorry state.
"A… man?"
"Yes!"
Huey, who had been feeding wood into the campfire, froze mid-motion at my shout, staring at me with a blank face.
"So that means you're… dangling…?"
Lucy's voice followed immediately. She didn't look the type, but apparently she had a keen interest in that sort of thing.
"Of course not!!"
"But you said you were a man?"
If I'd still had hands, I would have given her a knuckle to the forehead until she cried.
"I used to be a lot taller than I am now, too."
Even now, every time I woke up, the emptiness below the waist nearly drove me insane.
"An artifact that changes your species and your gender… I've never even heard of such a thing…"
And after twisting my body into this mess, it had vanished without a trace. Just thinking about that day three months ago still made my teeth grind.
"Anyway, I was originally a man, so I don't need that kind of consideration."
Fortunately, Lucy seemed to accept it and nodded. Huey, on the other hand, was still frozen in the exact same pose as before.
"…Putting that aside, what's wrong with him?"
"Leave him be. He's simply had a bit of a shock."
I was staring at Huey in bewilderment when Lucy gave my shoulder a couple of pats and walked over to him.
"Foolish Master. Weren't you supposed to be preparing the meal?"
"Ugh."
"Is it truly that shocking?"
"Sh-shut…"
Lucy whispered something into Huey's ear — he looked oddly dejected. It seemed he would need some time to recover, so I settled onto a nearby rock to wait it out.
About ten minutes passed.
"Looks like he's back."
Huey clamped a hand over Lucy's mouth — she had been whispering into his ear the entire time — and finally stood up.
"Sorry. I'll try not to treat you like a girl as much as I can."
"It's fine. You didn't know, so it happens."
The moment he got to his feet, Huey came over and bowed his head. Our party leader was the one at fault for not explaining properly, so I decided to let it slide this time.
"By the way, I'm starting to get hungry…"
My stomach was growling anyway, so I figured I might as well change the subject.
"So, what's the plan for dinner?"
"Just wait. I'll have it ready in no time."
I couldn't see any luggage that looked like it might hold cooking tools. How was he planning to manage that?
"Well, you'll see."
"Ren. You can't hold utensils or anything, right?"
I was standing there blankly, full of questions, when his voice cut through. With hands like these, of course I couldn't hold anything — so I just nodded.
"Hmm… in that case…"
Huey thought for a moment, then stretched a hand out toward empty air.
"Huh?"
From the empty space, cooking tools began to appear one after another — pots, a cutting board, and more.
"I've heard that people from other worlds gain some kind of special ability," Lucy explained, sliding in beside me as if she'd expected my surprise. Apparently, this was Huey's power.
I watched in admiration as a waist-high counter finally materialized in front of him.
"Whoa…"
"The downside is that only the cooking tools come out — you still have to prepare the ingredients separately."
"That's more than enough."
"True enough."
Put another way, as long as you had the ingredients, you could prepare a proper meal anywhere. Considering how often adventurers left cooking tools behind to lighten their packs — and ended up unable to even boil a simple stew — this was genuinely incredible.
"Lucy, can you grab the leftover meat from last time, some onions, and salt?"
"One moment."
So that was why that one bundle had felt like a different material. They had a preservation-magic bag, too.
"Ah, and two kelan leaves. We're out of pepper, so we'll have to make do with those."
"Yes."
…Was he filling his entire pack with nothing but cooking ingredients? How did he have so much? Not that I was complaining.
Anyway, since the opportunity was right there, I shifted closer for a better view.
"What, you want to watch?"
"Yeah."
"It's not going to be all that interesting."
"Beats doing nothing."
"Then I shall rest, Master."
"Sure. Go ahead."
I glanced briefly at Lucy, who had plopped down in front of the fire and started spacing out, then focused on Huey as he began cooking in earnest.
"What are you making?"
"We've got a decent amount of minotaur meat left, plus some burrow mushrooms, so I was thinking meatballs."
"Oh…"
Minotaurs. Muscular bipedal cattle averaging about three meters tall. They had so much muscle that the actually edible portions were limited, but I'd heard the meat was far more tender and juicier than ordinary beef.
"We took a commission a few days ago and took down a few of them, so I accepted some of the meat in place of the reward."
The way he casually mentioned a minotaur subjugation — typically a C-rank commission — suggested his adventurer rank was higher than I'd expected. You needed at least Silver rank 3 to solo a minotaur, so he was probably above that.
I was never one to sit on a question for long, so I asked Huey as he washed his hands and finely minced the ingredients.
"What's your adventurer rank?"
Adventurer ranks were generally divided into Bronze, Silver, and Gold. Within those, Bronze and Silver ran from rank 5 to rank 1, while Gold ran from rank 3 to rank 1. There were ranks above Gold 1, but if he were that high, I would have known — so those were off the table. Given how lightly he talked about hunting minotaurs, maybe Silver rank 1?
"Me? Gold rank 3."
"Whoa."
I was genuinely impressed. The dividing line between Silver 1 and Gold 3 was whether you could solo a B-rank commission — which meant Huey was stronger than I'd given him credit for.
"Without Lucy, I'd still be stuck at Silver 1."
He pushed the finely minced meat aside, covered it with a cloth, then tossed the chopped onions and mushrooms into a pot with a light drizzle of oil and carried it over to the campfire.
That was unexpected, too. It meant his own skill was at least Silver 1, and Lucy was on a comparable level.
Sizzle.
…Thoughts could wait.
"Haaa… that smell is incredible…"
The sweet aroma of cooking onions mixed with the deep, rich scent of the mushrooms, all blooming together in the oil — I could barely keep my wits about me.
Once the onions had softened, he laid a cloth over a plate he'd set out on the counter and spread the sautéed ingredients on top to cool.
"It'll be done in about twenty minutes, so just hang on a little longer."
My mouth was already watering, but I resolved to wait a bit more.
In the meantime, Huey pulled a small piece of bread from his pack and started toasting it over the fire. About five minutes later, he combined the meat he'd covered earlier with the cooled onions and mushrooms in a bowl, then crushed the crisply toasted bread into crumbs, added them to the mix, and began kneading everything together.
"Ah, almost forgot."
He paused his skilled kneading of the meat, onions, and mushrooms, added the pre-chopped kelan leaves, sprinkled on some salt, and went back to working the mixture.
And just like that, the meatball dough was complete.
"Gulp."
Just looking at it made me swallow hard. Next he pulled out a wide pan and poured oil into it.
"Lucy, hold this for me?"
"Understood."
He had Lucy steady the pan over the fire, then turned to me.
"Ren, is this about the right size for one bite?"
He pinched off a portion of the kneaded meat mixture, rolled it into a ball, and held it up. Exactly one mouthful.
"Yeah!"
I forced down the drool threatening to spill from the corner of my mouth and nodded. Huey smiled gently and dropped the rolled dough into the pan.
Sizzle!
The oil was well heated — the meatballs went in one by one with a deliciously appetizing sound. Once he'd rolled the rest of the dough into uniform balls and filled the pan, Huey pulled a large lid from thin air and covered it.
"I've got it from here."
"Yes."
He took the pan back from Lucy and began shaking it this way and that, making sure the round balls cooked evenly.
"Normally I'd just sear the outside and then simmer them in sauce, but since we went to the trouble of using burrow mushrooms, let's try them without."
I didn't care either way — I just wanted them finished already.
"Should be about ready."
The wait that had felt longer than anything else that day finally ended. When Huey lifted the lid, a fragrance thick with the rich savor of meat bloomed out — the kind of smell that went straight to your stomach.
"…Wow."
"They turned out well."
"Master, I've brought the dishes."
"Thanks."
Huey split one of the larger meatballs with a fork, checking that it was cooked through. Then he speared one of the halves and held it out to me.
"Want to try one first?"
"Yeah!"
"Careful, it's hot."
"Haup."
It had just come out of the oil, so it was absurdly hot — but the moment it hit my tongue, the fragrant flavor of the mushrooms exploded through my mouth.
"Is it good?"
"Mah-ah-hu, heu!"
"I can tell it's delicious, so please swallow before you speak."
With every chew, the rich juices of the minotaur meat burst forth, weaving together with the sweetness of the onion. The sharp, distinctive aroma of the kelan leaves cut through any gaminess, and the saltiness was pitched just right.
"It's so goooood—!"
It was a taste that made me genuinely happy. I closed my eyes, savoring the afterglow of the meatball — and before I knew it, Huey had fished out the rest and was holding out a dish to me.
"I'll make you some dedicated tableware soon, so bear with this for now."
It was a long-spouted vessel of the kind I'd only seen a few times in high-end restaurants, the sort used for pouring sauce. Huey filled it with meatballs and a few pieces of bread, told me to be careful not to spill, and handed it over.
"If it's too hard to eat, just say so. I'll feed you instead."
"No need. This is perfect!"
I gripped the dish with both wings and gave it a gentle shake. A meatball rolled toward the spout, and I offered my thanks.
"Thanks for the meal!"
And as I started eating the meatballs one by one in earnest, the realization that the me of three months ago had never known this kind of happiness brought tears to my eyes all on its own.
What had I been so scared of my master for, forcing myself through that pointless vegetarian diet?
Life, after all, had always been meat to meat.