That's Why They Call It Spicy Stew
When I came back from picking strawberries, Yuna was waiting for me in a camping chair.
"Wow, you picked a lot!"
"Yep, yep! And these have even been through quality control."
Yuna glanced at the chat, and I caught her smiling.
Today, I was going to show them the majesty of Strawberry Pie: Round Two.
"Whoa, chat. Look at this."
I set the butter on the cutting board and laid the knife against it. It sliced through with a whisper.
"The difference between the side of a hand and an actual blade is insane."
I scooped flour with a cup, added the sliced butter, and worked in water a little at a time until the dough came together.
"This time I'm not punching the dough."
The second time around, my hands were definitely faster.
I laid strawberries on the dough, cut strips to lay over the top, then pressed the edges to seal. From my pocket I pulled a pheasant egg and brushed it over the crust in place of an egg wash.
"Upgraded, right? No way this tastes bad, right?"
I set it on the heated stone slab, and this time, instead of a flat rock, I flipped the pot I'd just received over it as a lid.
"Thank you. It's all thanks to you guys and Yuna."
About ten minutes later, a rich, toasty smell began to spread. I lifted the pot, and what came out was a pie with an entirely different look from the first one.
Golden brown.
"Ohh."
[Edible]
"Done! Yuna, please have some!"
"Wow, it looks delicious! Thank you!"
Yuna took a bite.
"Huh...? It's good. It actually is."
"Right?!"
"Yes. The fact that you made this out here is even more impressive."
Yuna smiled and set the rest of the pie on her lap.
"Yuna, the fish is done too. Would you like to try some?"
I pulled the primitive-roast fish I'd stuck in front of the fire pit and held it out. It had cooked through over the gentle fire — golden on the outside, white and springy within.
"Wait, you actually just stuck this in front of the fire?"
"Yes. It's the primitive roasting method."
A cooking method verified by the long history of humankind. I just happened to be trying it for the first time.
Yuna took a bite of the grilled fish, and her eyes went wide.
"Huh? This is springy and really good. The seasoning's perfect, too."
"Thank you. I only used salt."
"I took out all the guts and the gills, just like you guys taught me."
I'd only used what they'd taught me, and I was getting praised for it.
I was about to flake off some of the grilled fish and toss it to Nureongi so he could have a taste too, when—
These people. They kept mixing up the game with real life.
I had no choice. I grilled a separate fish with no salt for Nureongi, flaked the meat off carefully, and tossed him the whole fillet. He ate it with great enthusiasm.
"But Sera, didn't you say you were going to make spicy stew earlier?"
"Ah, that. I didn't have a pot, so I gave up and switched to salt-grilling on the fly, but…"
I still had three fish left. I had flour for hand-torn noodles, too.
And above all, I still had that fruit I'd popped in my mouth out of curiosity and nearly died from.
"Yuna, would you like some spicy stew?"
Chat detonated.
Yuna laughed beside me.
"What kind of fruit is it?"
"It's called a Nuke Chili Fruit."
"I'm sorry? Why is it named that?"
"…Yeah, good question."
"It's fine. You won't die from eating it. You just have to control the heat. I have a plan, you know."
I poured valley water into the pot and set it over the fire. While the water came to a boil, I cut the fish into chunks and added a little salt.
I made the dough for hand-torn noodles, too. Flour, water, and a pinch of salt.
"Hand-torn noodle dough, now that I know."
It was true I'd made these a bit as a kid. This time I punched the dough to my heart's content.
When the broth started boiling, I put the fish in.
Now came the problem. How many Nuke Chili Fruits was the right amount?
"I'm borrowing the power of the hive mind. Chat, how many of these should I put in?"
I'd almost died. I hadn't actually died. Wasn't that proof it was safe, if anything?
"Even the hive mind is useless, huh. But wouldn't just one be a little boring?"
"We're going in with two."
I sliced two of them with the knife and dropped them in. Red oil bloomed across the surface of the broth, and the color went crimson in an instant.
As it started to bubble, the aroma came rolling up, and— this was the perfect smell of spicy stew. Yuna leaned toward the pot.
"Wow, that smells amazing. I'm hungry now."
I tore off pieces of dough and dropped them in, then let it boil again. The white dumplings floated up, and the broth thickened around them.
Freshwater Fish Spicy Stew
I ladled out two bowls.
"Yuna, please eat."
"…Wouldn't it be more polite for you to go first, Sera?"
"The guest eats first. That's manners."
Yuna blew on the broth and slurped.
"Huh? It's good—"
And then, suddenly.
"…….Hhk."
Yuna's face flushed red, the color climbing from her neck up.
"W-water…! Where's the water!"
"Here!"
Yuna chugged the water in huge gulps.
"Ha…! Haa…! Sera, what is this, honestly!"
"…Is it very spicy?"
"Is it very spicy?!"
"I'll try some."
I scooped up a spoonful.
"……."
A moment later.
"Ughwaaaaaah!"
The two of us sat side by side, wiping away tears and snot.
"……."
"……."
"…But this."
"Yes?"
Yuna sniffled and picked up her spoon again.
"It's good, though?"
"……It is."
"Why? Why is it good?"
Why? Because I made it well, apparently.
It was spicy. Like, really, really spicy. But the broth was incredible.
I felt like I was dying, and my hand kept going back for more.
"Yuna, this is a little weird, right?"
"It is. But I can't stop."
Yuna fished up a piece of hand-torn noodle. The dough, heavy with broth, broke off in thick, dripping pieces.
"Ah, why is this so good…!"
And then she was crying and sniffling and chugging water all over again.
"Exactly. Spice wimps don't know this kind of kick."
"The broth still came out well, though."
The fish's skill, they said. Where did our dear viewers even learn to come up with lines like that?
Pulling great flavor out of a talented fish was the cook's skill, thank you very much.
Ka-ching—
Donations started pouring in.
"Thank you for the donations!"
The pot was empty.
Somehow, the two of us had cried our way through the entire thing. At one point Nureongi caught the scent, wandered over, gave it a sniff, and just walked away.
Yuna wiped her tears and smiled.
"Sera."
"Yes?"
"This one was pretty good."
"Yes?"
"This spicy stew. Honestly, the strawberry pie was tasty, but it was a little ordinary. This, though — I think I'll crave this sometimes."
Ah. Hearing that my Round Two strawberry pie, complete with hard-won experience, was "a little ordinary" stung a little.
Then again, Yuna had already polished that pie off too, tears streaming down her face from the heat.
Yuna turned toward the camera.
"Everyone, anyone up for the three-Nuke-Chili-Fruit challenge?"
Chat exploded.
"Yuna, three could actually get dangerous."
"Then you just respawn, right?"
"……I'm jealous…"
Yuna stopped talking for a moment, then asked.
"…Sera, can you not respawn?"
Around the time the sun was going down, Yuna stood up.
She said she'd leave the camping chair and the fire pit, and that I should use them.
"Thank you so much for today. How do I even repay all this?"
"Repay? I had fun too."
Yuna turned to go, then looked back.
"I'll come again tomorrow."
"Whoa! For real? Thank you so much!"
Thank you, meal ticket.
My waist folded to ninety degrees. This time, I did it on purpose.
Yuna smiled, waved, and headed back the way she'd come.
I waved too.
What should I do tomorrow.
That night, a video went up on YunaTV.
The thumbnail was a still of Yuna holding a spoon, her face a wreck of tears and snot. She'd picked it herself. The editor had suggested other cuts, but Yuna had insisted on this one.
The view count passed two hundred thousand in three hours.
And from that night on, the number of players climbing the mountain north of the starter village began to rise — sharply.