Desperately Tasteless
There are two kinds of people in this world.
Those who eat to live, and those who live to eat.
The former treat food as little more than fuel to keep the body running, and so their standards for flavor tend not to be particularly high.
But for those who live to eat, the story is altogether different.
They must have a different kind of meal at every sitting. Without meat on the table, they grow gloomy. And setting all of that aside, if the food itself is bland, the very happiness of their lives plummets. A people utterly mad for rice and relish.
Regrettably, I belonged to those who live to eat.
Moreover, I was not content merely to consume. I carried the burning desire to pioneer ever more delicious cooking.
In short, I was a chef.
The owner and head cook of a thriving little eatery. My main repertoire was Korean cuisine, though I had a respectable amount of experience with Western dishes as well—pasta, steak, and the like.
"Gulp… Aah… Even swallowing this is pure torment."
And so I refused to place this thin, flavorless gruel—utterly unseasoned, offering not the faintest hint of savor—into the category of "food."
Furthermore, the fact that they dared serve this as a meal to students in their prime growing years filled me with righteous fury.
And yet… I cannot help but wonder…
Once the initial shock faded, questions followed naturally in its wake.
There had to be a reason an academy of this scale would provide such a meager meal.
St. Celestia Academy was a prestigious institution recognized by all. Everything about it ought to have been perfect.
And yet, at such a place of learning… this was the school lunch?
The only explanation I could think of was cafeteria corruption, perhaps…
"Oh my. An unfamiliar face. Are you one of this year's new students, newly gathered into the Goddess's embrace?"
I had been deep in serious contemplation over the oatmeal slurry before me when an unfamiliar voice reached my ears.
"Ah, how delightful."
I returned the greeting on reflex—and the moment I took in the owner of that voice…
I could not help but be astonished.
It was a face far too familiar.
"C-c-could it be… Angelica von Blanchette…?"
"Oh my, have we met somewhere before?"
Had we met? Of course we had.
In every single playthrough of Chronicles of Rodoros I had ever run, the one I always recruited as my healer without a single exception was Angelica.
Haa… Seeing her in the flesh, she looks even more noble…!
The reason I had sought Angelica so relentlessly was that she excelled in every possible way.
That soft, gentle manner of speaking. That benevolent smile of pure beauty. Charm that was the very essence of a pure young lady.
Not a rough edge to be found anywhere on her—conversing with her felt like being healed. A personality like the reincarnation of a goddess.
And once battle began, she never flinched, supporting her party members as the ideal cleric!
So if anyone ever asked me to name a single favorite character from Chronicles of Rodoros, I would shout her name without a moment's hesitation.
Angelica von Blanchette.
To think that the brilliant light who would one day illuminate St. Celestia Academy would appear right before my eyes.
"Ah, aah…! Senior, your renown is so great that even outside the school I have heard much of you!"
I bowed my head as I spoke, and the gracious Angelica simply smiled past my thoroughly awkward demeanor.
"Aha, you flatter me. I am still quite inexperienced, you know."
Whew. That was close.
I had managed to salvage it somehow, but no matter how happy I was, I needed to reflect on letting my internal familiarity run so high.
A natural meeting was the way to go, after all.
"Come to think of it, what is the name of our newly arrived junior?"
"This young lady's name is Carmilla de Valin."
"I see. Truthfully, I took the liberty of speaking because it seemed you could not bring yourself to touch your meal at all. It is something first-time arrivals at this academy often experience."
Whether this could be called a meal was doubtful, but Angelica's consideration was genuinely welcome.
As expected of my favorite.
"Ah, you are quite right. It may sound like a fuss, but this is rather far from the meals I am accustomed to enjoying…"
"Well, it is a somewhat austere meal, true. But it would be best if you grew used to it."
Grow used to it?
What on earth was she saying.
Did she mean people ate this cafeteria food every single day?
I could not possibly endure it. I had to ask.
"If it is not too forward of me, may this young lady inquire about a few things?"
"Yes, by all means."
"Do you, by chance, take meals like this in ordinary times as well?"
"No. Today is the anniversary of St. Celestia Academy's founding, so a special meal is being served."
"A special meal, you say…?"
"Saint Celestia held this place without yielding even when surrounded on all sides by heretics. Today's meal is meant, in part, to let us experience the fare of that time."
"Ah, so that was the intent… How noble!"
So this was a kind of famine reenactment, then.
At that level, I could accept it.
Well, of course—no human being could eat something this ghastly every day!
"But you need not worry. Unappealing as it looks, it is nutritionally sound—and in truth, it is not so very different from the meals ordinarily provided."
I had just managed to accept it, and now something even stranger came tumbling out.
So they ate this kind of thing every day?
"I—if it is not different from ordinary times…?"
"Oatmeal is a healthful food. Pair it with a little vegetable and meat, and it becomes a fine meal."
Oh, good heavens.
So adding some vegetables and meat to this was the everyday cafeteria food?
Did that make any sense?
Well—it must make sense, if Angelica was saying it so casually.
Of course!! It wasn't entirely wrong.
Nutritionally speaking, it was a reasonably decent menu.
Carbs, protein, and fat were all there; the vegetables would have been boiled, so the vitamins should still be intact, and so on.
But didn't that nutrition only mean something if you could actually eat it?
This was like saying that if you faithfully ate diet food every day, you would successfully diet.
"Um… Carmilla? You do not look well…"
"Then, Senior, regarding the taste of the ordinary cafeteria meals… how do you find them?"
Angelica considered for a moment, then spoke calmly.
"I do not think taste is important. We are people who will one day be of use to the Goddess. Rather than fretting over such things, it is better to devote even a little more of ourselves to our studies."
"Aaaah…… How can this be!"
I clutched my head and groaned.
Ordinarily, academy meals in the game had been handled with a few light lines of text, so I had never paid them much mind.
And of course I hadn't—all I ever saw was dry text along the lines of Angelica finished her meal.
Who in the world could have deduced from that that the cafeteria food here was atrocious?
How was anyone supposed to know that this place's meals were so fixated on nutrition that they paid no attention whatsoever to taste?
"Well, I do understand your reaction. I grew used to meals like this long ago, so I am fine—but there truly are a great many students who are not."
With a troubled expression, Angelica continued.
"Those students would start wars between the dormitories over a single bag of cookies that happened to find its way onto campus~"
"Wars… you say?"
For a moment, I doubted my ears.
Even so, I had not expected an example quite this extreme…
"Yes, it truly was war. With the dormitories as the battlefield, magic and cold steel, strategy and cunning clashed head-on—I remember that day so vividly. The bonds I shared with the classmates who fought alongside me for those cookies in the First Cookie War… I do not think I shall ever forget them~"
This girl…
What on earth was she talking about?
"First"?
"If you say the First… does that mean there was a Second as well…?"
"Well, it was a delightful memory. The Second War, which broke out only last year—was it candy that set it off? Aah, it comes back to me. The green grape flavor from that time was truly special~"
Angelica had claimed victory in the Second, then…
Was I supposed to congratulate her for this?
"Even so, to start a war over sweets… I can scarcely believe it…"
"If one eats cafeteria food like this every day, everyone goes a little mad somewhere, you know~"
Was she serious…
And the scarier part was that, given circumstances this extreme, it actually made a certain amount of sense.
The most apt comparison I could imagine was a single pack of Choco Pies dropped into a military training camp.
"Hmm… if everyone loves sweets that much, has no one ever tried making them themselves, or something of the sort?"
"Unfortunately, every student at this academy is a noble or royal who has always had servants cook for them… I do not believe any of them have ever tried making food themselves. Commoners do enroll from time to time, but none of them seem to have possessed particularly gifted hands either."
"That… is truly a regrettable matter."
"From time to time, peddlers would try to smuggle in snacks aiming for a big score… but after being caught a few times, they vanished, which was a pity. Perhaps they returned to the Goddess's embrace?"
I was beginning to understand, if only a little.
Perhaps the reason this was the continent's greatest academy…
was that it produced so many people who had gone completely mad.
All ideas are born of deprivation… or so they say.
My feelings were complicated, but I had gained one piece of information.
As long as the game's protagonist was a teacher, there was no way to learn about secret dormitory power struggles or histories of war and the like.
Cookie Wars… I had discovered a background I never could have imagined.
Wait. If I play this right…
While that thought was forming, an idea flashed through my mind.
"Senior Angelica."
"Yes, Junior Carmilla."
"If a junior who is exceptionally skilled at cooking were to enroll… and personally treat people to delicious dishes, how much do you think one might be able to charge?"
"Aah, it is not as though I have never imagined such a thing. Let me see… if there were a junior who made juicy steaks for us. Hmm…"
She pondered carefully, then delivered her answer.
"One would have to start thinking in units of platinum coins, would one not? Everyone would form a line, after all~"
At those words, I was finally able to smile.
"Senior, your noble words are truly appreciated."
One platinum coin was worth one hundred gold coins.
Five times the entire fortune I currently possessed.
Simply conjuring the value of that currency in my mind made laughter bubble up of its own accord.
Because it felt as though, since arriving in this world, I had found the very first thing I needed to do.
It is often said that commercial districts form around universities.
The reason is simple. Students do not live exclusively inside the school.
On the contrary, students tend to cast even greedier eyes on facilities beyond the campus gates.
Leisure spots like PC cafés and billiard halls, of course—and restaurants for students who have grown sick of cafeteria food.
The university-adjacent commercial district was where every variety of consumer temptation stretched out its claws.
And that fundamental premise was no different for an academy.
"One skewer, if you please—ah! And do give me a different flavor as well."
In that sense, what I was doing right now was a thoroughly student-like activity.
Skipping the terrible cafeteria meal and seeking food outside the school—judging by the action alone, it certainly looked that way.
But the underlying principle of this endeavor was fundamentally different.
Is this skewer bird meat…?
I pulled off a well-grilled skewer and bit into it.
Chew.
"Ah, this will not do."
Ten shillings, and yet a skewer I never wished to eat again.
Along with a vaguely familiar voice ringing in my head, I despaired.
It was overcooked.
I could have endured that—but decisively, it had no seasoning at all.
There was nothing to mask the metallic blood-scent of poorly drained meat, nor the tough fiber unique to an old hen.
And so what entered my mouth was no better than flavorless rubber.
"If only they could have at least rubbed it with salt…"
Chewing the stubbornly lingering skewer, I took out my notebook and scratched a rough line through the entry.
Another failure.
"Well then—that makes ten places… A pattern is beginning to emerge."
What I was doing was market analysis of the surrounding commercial district.
And at its core was an evaluation of the quality of the food being served.
"Perhaps this place has no seasonings at all."
The common thread was the absence of seasoning.
Even basic seasonings like salt and pepper had been completely left out.
The reason was simple enough.
In the modern world both were commonplace, but here—in a setting modeled on the medieval—both were expensive luxury goods.
Salt was produced far away at the sea, and pepper had to travel no less a distance as an import.
So of course you would never find them in street food that prioritized profit margins above all else.
"No wonder there is nothing decent to eat near the academy either…"
Perhaps because of that, every eatery around the academy was both overpriced and cheaply made.
An intentional arrangement, maybe?
If the school's policy truly was to drive students into these extreme conditions…
It would no longer even surprise me.
"But this is not an ordinary medieval world, is it…"
This was a world of swords and magic.
A world where magic made the impossible possible, where ordinary animals and monsters coexisted.
Approach it with ordinary common sense, and you were bound to go astray.
"Well then—shall I try making some myself!"
For my plan to succeed, the one thing I needed more than anything was seasoning.
And of those, what I needed most of all was salt.
Seasoning was the beginning and the end of cooking. The alpha and the omega!
No matter how delicious a dish, if it was unseasoned, it left you wanting.
"If there is no salt, one simply finds a substitute."
After a brief moment of thought, I set off at once.
To obtain a substitute, I was going to need a sword-hand.
Should I look for a nearby mercenary office? Would something that rough even exist near the academy?—I was walking along with such idle thoughts when—
Fluff fluff.
"Uuu… Luca is hungry…"
For some reason, I discovered a ball of fur collapsed in the middle of the road.