I See the Bloodline of Perdes Here
I See the Bloodline of Perdes Here
Fwoosh!
The Flare Range roared to life, driving the wok to a ferocious heat.
As the Pog pork belly hit the metal and started sizzling, the smell alone made my mouth water against my will.
The meat, drenched in soy sauce and sugar, crackled and browned, deepening to a rich, wicked mahogany.
The Maillard Reaction, working in lockstep with the soy sauce, had done its work.
Searing it with a quick marinade first didn't just lock the savory richness in—it guaranteed a thorough Maillard Reaction, bringing the meat's true flavor surging to life.
"Smells incredible."
Over the well-seared pork, now glistening with rendered fat and darkened by soy sauce, I piled on sliced onions and thick-cut green onions.
Ksssssh!
The moisture-laden vegetables hit the oil with that satisfying sound.
This was the moment I lived for when cooking.
That sound primes the palate, and the first wave of aroma from cooking ingredients drives me absolutely wild.
The instant the surfaces of the onions and green onions began to yield, I added gochugaru, gochujang, a little malt syrup, minced garlic, sugar, and another round of soy sauce, then tossed everything together.
The crimson sauce clung to the meat and vegetables, wrapping the whole mess in a deeply appetizing red.
They say the color red stimulates human appetite.
The sauce—a bubbling mixture of vegetable juices, malt syrup, and rendered fat—simmering with the ingredients in the wok was a sight designed to make a man ravenous.
That's cooking.
"Kheu."
That vivid red was dizzying in the best way.
The Jeyuk Bokkeum was finished, carrying an entirely different charm from Bulgogi.
Unlike Bulgogi, the defining trait of Jeyuk Bokkeum is that you don't marinate the meat beforehand.
That meant relatively thicker cuts posed no problem—a clear advantage. Bulgogi, of course, had its own edge. Even with cheaper cuts, the marinade could draw out ample flavor. The cost-effectiveness was off the charts.
There's no point arguing which is better, Bulgogi or Jeyuk Bokkeum.
Each had such distinct strengths that declaring one supreme felt impossible.
I began packing the Jeyuk Bokkeum, its sauce thickened to a glossy finish, neatly into the waiting lunch boxes.
"Those colors are incredible."
Kobi, who had been watching the whole process, let out an awed exclamation, his eyes glued to the meat tumbling into the containers.
Gulp.
I wondered who could swallow that noisily.
"Wooow..."
Andrea.
"Boss, can't I have just a little?"
"No. That's for a customer."
"Heeeng."
Beside her pouting face, Ivan was silently committing my cooking sequence to memory.
"Simply wielding the wok well isn't the main point, then. The heat control and the timing of adding the seasoning... down to briskly moving the ingredients to prevent burning."
Ignoring their gazes, I packed the last slice into a lunch box.
Enchanted with a warming spell, the box began cradling the heat the moment the Jeyuk Bokkeum landed inside.
"Still, a heat-preserving portable container... where did you even find such an expensive piece of equipment? Those are famously used by noble ladies on picnics."
"I bought it. My wallet took a real beating for that thing. Ha ha ha."
Kobi gave a hearty laugh.
"If you'd like, I can have a word with the Madame and bring a few over."
"They wouldn't be free, I take it?"
"Ha ha ha, you're quick on the uptake. In exchange, just whip up a few dishes as a bribe for her."
"They'd spoil on the road."
"Couldn't you use that freeze-drying method?"
"For that, I'd be limited to stews and soups."
"Ah..."
Kobi clicked his tongue in disappointment.
"I heard from young Riman that you've developed a technique for injecting carbonation into water now?"
"Ah, that's right."
Sparkling water was just the start.
The carbonated beverages I'd craved for so long were almost within reach.
"When do you plan to demonstrate that invention?"
"...Soon. I intend to debut it in the capital and spread it nationwide."
"You won't go yourself, but leave it to Riman, yes?"
"Yes. The words of an alchemist like Riman will carry weight."
I'd heard the capital was abuzz over the ramyun soup stock.
The nobility were chasing a new culinary fad. Mages, alchemists, and dwarves, astounded by the concept of freeze-drying, were reportedly talking about the stuff all day long.
'Riding this wave of notoriety, carbonated drinks will catch on and spread like wildfire.'
Even without beer, they'd be able to feel that sharp, throat-tingling fizz.
And the drink would be sweet on top of that!
It was guaranteed to blow up in the capital.
The problem was that the Imperial Household was still locked in a fight over the positions of Crown Princess and Crown Prince, so all eyes were fixed on that drama. Camilla knew this too, which was why she was probably delaying the freeze-drying announcement.
'Once the big main event's over, we hit back-to-back home runs.'
That would land Riman in an enormous spotlight in my place.
And he'd deal with Her Highness the Princess instead of me.
While Riman was stalling for time, I'd find a way to keep Diana from walking the tyrant's path.
Using the romance fantasy male lead Ivan.
'Or find Monica, the novel's heroine destined to take Diana down later.'
Using Riman as bait to buy time was a pretty decent plan.
That wasn't to say I trusted him completely. As a mage under GW's banner, there was simply no way for him to run.
"Understood. I'll report this to the head of the merchant group, then."
"Much obliged."
Kobi left with a beaming smile, his insulated lunch box crammed to the brim with Jeyuk Bokkeum.
How long had it been since he'd gone?
Bang!
The door burst open and a group of men strode in.
Wearing leather armor with no insignia, every man had a sword strapped at his hip.
"We're on break. The restaurant isn't open."
Casually blowing off my words, the men began scanning the interior.
"Hey. The boss said he's closed. You deaf?"
When I got ignored, Andrea shot up in a burst of temper.
"An elf?"
Their surprise at the elf's sudden appearance lasted only a second. They collected themselves and swept their eyes around once more.
"No offense meant. We're not here to eat, but to find someone."
"Someone?"
"Have you seen a man with black hair and red eyes?"
There was only one man around here with black hair and red eyes.
Andrea and I instinctively locked eyes.
—Isn't that Ivan?
Her expression asked.
Who?
'Doubt they're assassins sent by the Princess.'
She wasn't the type to send assassins in a situation like this. I'd once jumped to that conclusion in the past, but that was when I'd first set up shop and was paranoid. I knew now she wouldn't go that far.
Then my eyes met one man's in the middle of the group. A familiar face.
Back when I was a squire in the Imperial Princess's Knight Order, there'd been an inter-order exchange. A minor event, lofty name aside—just sparring to see whose knights were stronger.
This was a knight I'd crossed blades with back then.
A knight of House Perdes.
His eyes widened—he'd recognized me too.
The Perdes knight order, looking for Ivan.
'The Duke is searching for Ivan.'
It was far earlier than in the original novel, but that was beside the point. Princess Diana was making her move faster than expected, so naturally he'd be getting wary from all angles. His legitimate children were all disappointments, and as a last hope, he wanted to retrieve his illegitimate son Ivan and test him.
When a son had needed a father, he'd tossed him aside—and now he came calling?
That thought crossed my mind, but back in the story, Ivan had answered Perdes's summons and gone to the capital.
The reason had been simple. Because Lancelot told him to.
—Go and learn there. To become a greater man, you must swim in greater waters. Rise until no one can dismiss you, and become the ruler of Perdes.
So Ivan had left for the capital, where later the tyrannical Empress Diana nearly got him killed, forcing him to flee. He'd lost his entire family, escaped to the Perdes territory, and somewhere in the process, he met Monica—that was how I remembered the novel's opening.
"You're the Perdes knight order."
I spoke to the men.
"..."
The moment my words ended, the knights drew their swords.
"And who are you?"
"Roman Lucas. I'm the owner of this Knight Restaurant."
"..."
The knight who'd recognized me leaned close and whispered to the man who looked like the captain.
"He's a former knight of the Imperial Princess's order."
Oh, for the love of—I said I was the restaurant owner.
"What business does a knight of the Imperial Princess have here?"
His voice was thick with suspicion.
"Master, I've finished the dishes—what the...?"
Ivan emerged from the kitchen, a white bandana on his head. The moment he saw the knights who'd barged in, his brow furrowed.
"Who the hell are you?"
Instant, naked hostility.
"Black hair and red eyes..."
The captain studied Ivan slowly, head to toe.
"Are you Lord Ivan, the only son of Lady Sepone?"
"I am. What the hell is this about?"
At those words, the captain knight dropped to one knee.
"I behold the bloodline of Perdes."
In unison, every other knight knelt.
"I behold the bloodline of Perdes!"
"..."
Ivan, completely unshaken. Andrea, unable to process the sudden turn. And over in the corner of the restaurant, in a shadow the sun never reached, Bldi dozing with her head bobbing.
And finally—
'This is pure popcorn material.'
—me, regretting deeply that I hadn't popped a batch of corn in advance.
"His Grace, Duke Perdes, seeks you, young master."
"Who's that?"
"He is the birth father of Ivan Perdes."
"...So, after all this time, my father's looking for me?"
"His Grace has always kept watch over you, young master. And thus..."
This was a scene straight from the novel. It had appeared as a flashback in which Ivan Perdes, having won his knights' loyalty, recalled his first meeting with them.
'Now that I think about it, this is the first time I'm seeing a novel scene play out live.'
I watched with fascination as a passage I'd only read in text sprang vividly to life.
'Man, should I really go pop that popcorn right now?'
I definitely had dried corn stashed somewhere in the storeroom.
Argh, I was dying for popcorn and cola.
Right. Riman had sent some sparkling water for testing, hadn't he? Just sparkling water alone wouldn't cut it...
But if I went to the kitchen where the fridge was, I'd miss the scene.
'Tch. The moment I knew they were Perdes knights, I should've beelined for the fridge.'
I clicked my tongue, picturing the sparkling water inside. I could've even mixed in some lemon syrup and yuzu syrup to make a citrus ade. Just then, Ivan, having caught my eye, gave a small nod.
"I don't know who Perdes is. I don't know who my father is, either. My mother never breathed a word about him. But one thing I know for certain."
His expression murderous, Ivan glared down at the knights and continued.
"My father is the kind of utter scum who couldn't be bothered to care how the woman carrying his son was dying."
Huh. This line wasn't in the novel.
"Young master, His Grace mourned Lady Sepone deeply. And your safety, as well..."
"If that were true, he'd have made an effort to find us at least once. Or at least shown his face when my mother died."
"..."
Ivan looked down at them with ice-cold eyes.
"They say you can judge a lord's virtue by looking at his men. The fact that you're running wild in my master's establishment already tells me everything about this man who claims to be my father. I've heard all the excuses I need."
"Your master?"
Their eyes swiveled toward me.
"You don't mean Lancelot...?"
I'm not that meat thief Lancelot, thank you very much.
"Stop waving your swords and causing a scene in my master's restaurant. Get out. My father is dead. I don't have another."
Wait, hold on—that line wasn't in there either.
This atmosphere was going off-script.