God's Command (3)

The unicorn snorted violently, huffing like a stallion in heat after eating an aphrodisiac. It began sniffing around everywhere, nostrils flaring.

At the fairy’s words, the unicorn finally seemed to notice its surroundings. Rare grasses bloomed everywhere across the dry ground. There were Moonlight Grass, yellow-scent herbs, and even the incredibly rare clear-fragrance plants. The unicorn’s nostrils flared wide as it inhaled deeply.

The unicorn tore off some rapeseed flowers and munched on them while turning its head this way and that, sniffing for other scents. When it approached the fishing boat and began flaring its nostrils, I could barely breathe from worry for Yanne.

“Unicorn, sir, is there any particular herb you need? If you tell me, I can bestow a blessing to increase their numbers.”

I spoke first to divert its attention.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The unicorn that drew closer was larger than a normal horse. When it flared its nostrils to sniff, the hot breath that washed over me carried an intense, musky odor—the kind of wild, primal stench you could only find on untamed beasts, completely different from the smell of domesticated animals.

At the unicorn’s words, even the fairies who had been dancing and playing around the grasses came swarming over, all chanting together that they wanted to eat human food. There were over forty Tinkerbell fairies, plus a unicorn that ate like a bottomless pit. The food ingredients I’d stored in my inventory clearly wouldn’t be enough.

I needed to buy time by making them gather cooking ingredients, while also creating strongly scented food to mask Yanne’s smell. As I pondered what dish would fit both conditions, one recipe came to mind—aquapazza, an Italian seafood stew. It was one of the classic dishes that used fish and shellfish while allowing you to load it with plenty of herbs.

“Humans who live near lakes or swamps usually cook with ingredients they can easily gather from there. So today, I’ll make something using fish and shellfish from the swamp and lake.”

“Yes, those are the right ones. If you want to try human food, go catch some fish and gather some shellfish.”

“Even if it’s annoying, you have to gather them if you want to eat. This group, go to the lake and catch fish. That group, gather shellfish from the swamp and lake bottom.”

“Unicorn, sir, you need to flip over the swamp bottom to find the shellfish hiding there. The fairies will gather the shellfish that come out.”

At the Tinkerbell fairy’s nagging, the unicorn began scraping at the swamp bottom with its front hooves. Though it was described as scraping, it was actually digging and flipping the ground like a living pickaxe. From the overturned swamp bed came not only shellfish but also small aquatic plants and loach-like fish in droves.

The fairies chattered nonsense but still brought shellfish and small fish to me. I took out the tin basin I’d bought in advance from my inventory, filled it with clean water, and had them wash the shellfish and fish as thoroughly as possible to remove the mud. Normally you’d let shellfish ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠purge for several hours, but I couldn’t afford to wait longer than the time it took them to catch the fish. I simply ordered the fairies to change the water whenever it got dirty.

The fish caught from the lake were also brought by the fairies, most of them small ones around fifteen centimeters long.

“Haa… (Fuck).”

A sigh escaped me involuntarily. I had only just started gutting the fish, yet these crazy bastards were already throwing a fit, demanding why I wasn’t serving food immediately after they brought the ingredients. Explaining that it took time would be useless with these lunatics. So, with the mindset of letting them taste a bit first, I threw four cleaned fish and shellfish that hadn’t even finished purging into a frying pan along with pork fat.

If I used a gas burner, I could control the heat better and produce a more stable flavor, but since I intended to stimulate these maniacs, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠set it over a campfire instead. I sprinkled salt and pepper and began concentrating the heat with direct flames.

Once enough heat had built up that the shellfish and fish were sizzling, I poured in strong liquor.

[Fwoooooooosh—!]

It was the high-proof alcohol I’d bought to make Molotov cocktails since I didn’t have attack magic. When poured into the hot pan, it created flames taller than a person.

The intense heat caused the shellfish to open their shells, and the fish, seared all over, began turning a nice brown. Once the strong liquor and smoky aroma seemed to have neutralized the fishy and muddy smells, I added chopped thyme and rapeseed stems and leaves, covered the pan, and concentrated the fire’s heat once more.

After a short while, when the herbs seemed to have released their essence, I divided the dish onto two large plates—one for the unicorn and one for the fairies.

The fish, nicely browned from the strong heat, and the shellfish with their mouths open, releasing white steam, looked appetizing even to modern eyes. The herbal fragrance wafting from that steam was irresistible. The unicorn, which had already been eating thyme and rapeseed, went crazy and charged at the plate.

When the food proved too hot, the unicorn simply flipped the plate over. It scattered the food on the ground to cool, then ate it off the dirt without seeming to mind at all.

[Crunch! Crunch!]

It even crushed the shellfish—shell and all—chewing them up instead of just eating the meat. Because the Tinkerbell fairies were so small, three of them clung to each fish, and they fought over the shellfish. Somehow they had obtained sharp needle-like tools, which they used to pry open the shells and pull out the meat.

Watching the unicorn and fairies devour everything with such gusto, it seemed purging the shellfish had been completely unnecessary. They probably didn’t even need the fish guts removed. Some were literally eating off the ground—there was no point in being meticulous. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I decided to use the same tin basin that had been for purging shellfish as a cooking pan. I threw the fish in without cleaning them, added the shellfish after a quick rinse, and dumped in all the pork fat I had to render the oil. Once the fish seemed partially cooked, I seasoned with salt and pepper, poured in more strong liquor for a flambé show, and infused it with smoky flavor.

After burning off the fishy odors with the strong liquor, I added more strongly scented thyme and rapeseed stems and leaves before serving it to the fairies and unicorn. I scattered the unicorn’s portion on the ground so it could eat comfortably, while the Tinkerbell fairies climbed right into the basin, lay down, and enjoyed the fish and shellfish. The famous Italian seafood dish aquapazza had been reduced to something resembling dog food slop. Still, since everyone liked it, I figured it wasn’t so bad.

I also secretly poured strong liquor into bowls, hoping they would get drunk, and added thyme and rapeseed to turn it into herb-infused liquor. The fairies eating the aquapazza were drawn to the herbal aroma and drank it, while the unicorn, after trying the alcohol, got completely wasted and began running wildly around the swamp in a drunken frenzy.

While I scraped more fairy dust from the wings of the intoxicated, disoriented fairies, the eastern sky slowly began to brighten. I had spent the entire night cooking and catering to the whims of fairies and a unicorn.

As the sun rose, the fairies, as if blinded by the light, hid in the shade of the trees. They kept insisting I come back at night before disappearing into the shadows. The unicorn had vanished at some point while drunk and running around—I hadn’t even noticed it leave.

When the warm sunlight gently warmed my back, the tension finally drained away and I collapsed on the spot. Cooking aquapazza all night and catering to the unicorn and Tinkerbell fairies hadn’t been easy.

Only then did Call, who had been hiding, come over, lick my hand, and begin eating the leftover fish from the aquapazza in the tin basin. My daily life had finally returned.

“Oh right! Yanne!”

Worried that the unicorn might have found her while drunk and taken her away, I hurriedly checked inside the fishing boat. Nothing but luggage. I reached in and felt around—thankfully, I could feel Yanne. I brushed away what seemed to be where her face would be, and her face appeared. Her eyes snapped open.

“Oh my? Master, the morning sun is up?”

Yanne sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking around with the relaxed expression of someone who had enjoyed a good night’s sleep. It felt somehow unfair. I had spent the entire night cooking and using my wits to survive a crisis, yet she had apparently slept like a log. Anger bubbled up inside me.

Of course, the underlying anxiety of having already exceeded my daily connection time made everything look negative. But when I saw fairy dust sparkling in the sunlight around the rising Yanne, I couldn’t bring myself to scold her.

‘Yeah. Your face is a healing buff.’

“Pack up the luggage and load the boat. We’re leaving immediately.”

While Yanne gathered the miscellaneous items, I collected a few more Moonlight Grass plants, along with some thyme and rapeseed. I planned to plant them in a field later, so I wrapped them with soil in cloth and stored them in my inventory. Whenever Yanne brought luggage, I put it straight into my inventory. Instead of pulling the boat, I pushed it as we left the swamp.

By noon we had left Hool Lake and the swamp, but I continued walking without proper rest, trying to get as far away as possible. I was anxious because the unicorn and fairies might come looking for us at night.

It was afternoon, with the sun beginning to set, when we reached a campsite used by merchant caravans and travelers. Only then did I finally feel at ease. I quickly pitched the tent and filled my stomach roughly with bread from my inventory.

“You couldn’t sleep at all last night, so please rest now. I’ll stand guard with Call until you wake up.”

Yanne covered me with a blanket, telling me to trust only her.

“Huh?”

When I opened the capsule and stepped out, the secretary from Changing and someone holding an emergency medical kit were staring at me.

“Mr. Park Jinwoo. Was there a reason you violated the daily eight-hour connection limit?”

The secretary’s cold tone made me realize that the eight-hour daily limit wasn’t simply there to prevent game addiction.