Chương 137: Cordyceps Two

At the start of the two years I spent preparing for the Academy—a period which I kind of only remembered as one big block of very busy time—I found myself going to the Ratesco's Union building fairly frequently, so much so that I decided to double down on things and brought Bet along with me one day. As well as our entire mushroom-selling setup.

The folk at the union building weren't rich, as a rule, but they did have a few half-pennies to spare when we started to tempt them with the delicious smell of roasting mushrooms topped with garlic and butter. It wasn't anything complicated, of course, but I was growing better, tastier mushrooms all the time, and seeing people react to their taste was a fantastic way of seeing how far along I was coming with my cooking and marketing abilities.

Bet and I—almost always in pairs now—would hit up the markets too once they opened up a few months after the riots settled down. Unfortunately, people were poorer than ever, and that reflected in how much I was making.

"At this rate," I complained to a bored Gary one day.

"I'm going to die broke." He smiled and took another chomp from the skewer I'd just sold him. It was one of my last ones for the day and I was counting my earnings for the afternoon's work next to the union building. Usually I waited to get back to the farm, but I wasn't afraid of any of the locals. I think I'd earned a reputation with the union as Grey and Dreg's 'pet' which was as demeaning as it was useful.

It helped that I was often around selling people food and working on my [Social Manipulation] skills to make them see me as the cutest thing they'd ever run into. I didn't like wearing girly clothes, but I could make an exception while working. If passing myself off as a girl meant that the average customer would be nicer, more polite, and looser with their wallet, then that was all for the best.

"Not making enough?" Grey asked.

"I'm breaking even," I said as I tallied up the last coin. I made a note in a little book of how much I'd made. The same page had my expenses.

"But I'm not making much on top of that. A shilling or two won't help me get out of this gutter."

"Hmm," he said.

"Well, I think I know how you could make more," he said.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Well, spill." He grinned.

"Maybe for one of those skewers." I glared, then I blinked, made my eyes go wide, shifted my shoulders and hips just so, allowed some tears to fill my eyes, and added a sniff for good measure.

"Please?" I begged. He rubbed a hand on my head, messing up my hair.

"Nice try, but that won't work on me."

"Fuck," I said as I dropped the act.

"Fine, you can have another skewer on the house. Not going to sell these last few anyway." I grabbed one of the still-warm skewers—I'd shut off the fire a while ago to conserve fuel—and handed it over to Gray who then stole a dollop of butter from my bag while I let him.

"Well, spill," I said.

"Increase your prices," he said. I stared.

"That won't work. I'm selling these as low as I can go, unless I start selling them two-for-one, and even then people can barely afford them."

"Oh, yeah, that's fair, but the people who can afford one of these," he wiggled a skewer around, "can probably afford a lot more too. What you need is a way to justify selling for a higher cost. I mean, these taste pretty good, but they're not that filling, and they're nothing on something cooked by someone with the right skills."

"The right skills, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Prep better food, spice it up with the right skill, and you won't have any trouble convincing people to pay a lot more for it. If you want, I can introduce you to someone, she cooks here sometimes, even has a few skills for kitchen work."

"I... suppose learning how to cook better wouldn't be awful," I said. It sounded like a bit of a waste of time, but then, I did need money, and this seemed like an easy solution at the time to earning more. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I ended up agreeing to Grey's offer, and not even a week later, I was introduced to Aunt Nicole. Nicole—who insisted on the 'aunt' part of her name—was a rotund lady in her middle ages.

She exclusively wore baggy dresses with floral print and a pristine white apron, and she wielded spatula and ladle the way a mighty warrior might wield sword and shield. She only visited the union building once a week or so, usually on Saturdays, and when she showed up, the kitchen was hers. Grey took her aside and introduced Bet and me to Aunt Nicole. She took one look at us, then nodded.

"Come, I'll show you girls how to work a kitchen." I was a little annoyed, initially, I wanted a quick solution to my problem. If this Nicole woman was willing to look at my mushrooms and skewers and tell me what to do, exactly, to improve them, then I could get back to making more money instead of wasting time. The first day was entirely spent peeling potatoes and carrots and I never did any cooking at all. I was going to write the whole thing off. What I was looking for was something like a proper, fixed recipe.

Even in my last life, I'd never cared much for cooking, but given access to a full pantry and a cooking book, I could whip up something that looked decent and tasted alright. I was a scientist, I could follow instructions from a book. Near the end of the day, after a solid six hours spent in the kitchen with only one small break, I was tired, frustrated, and ready to call it quits. Then Nicole took Bet and me aside and sat us down to eat.

She'd made a simple porridge of sorts, with some baked loaves of bread, some cheese, and a sort of mash made of a few strips of meat mixed with mashed potatoes. It didn't look impressive. It tasted divine. I didn't even notice that I was done eating until I found myself staring forlorn at an empty plate.

"The trick with that one is the chives in the mash, adding the butter at the right time, and cutting the meat into fine strips," Nicole said.

"For the mash, you need to cook half the potatoes for about five minutes longer than the rest, that way you get two consistencies mixed together, and the porridge needs to stew for a while after it's cooked at a low simmer to burn off some of the excess water. Add in just a thimble of good oil at the end and a few sprigs of basil. Salt helps, but it's a crutch." I nodded along slowly. If I served food that tasted this good, then yeah, there was no doubt that I'd be making a lot more.

Though I would still be working with limited ingredients.

"Can you teach us?" I asked.

"Like, actually teach us?"

"Hmm," Nicole said.

"Well, I don't see why not. But I work six days a week at the bank taking care of the lunch room. I don't have much time to help, but I do help where I can."

"Right," I said. Aunt Nicole didn't push any more than that. That night, I took the [Cooking {Common}] skill. It felt a little weak to grab a common skill, but I was aiming to level it up, then switch it out for something better later on. In the meantime, the skill would help me grow, and all I had to do was pay attention to keep some of the experience for myself. Cooking {Common} The ability to prepare and cook meals for consumption. As this skill improves, so will your cooking.

Category: Cooking skills The most fundamental and basic cooking-style skill there was, but it would be something to build from, and as the weeks went on, I quickly levelled the skill up, especially when Nicole could spare a minute to show me what to do. Soon, I was insisting that everyone working one of my mushroom stalls take a stint working with Aunt Nicole and take a related cooking skill. Grey had been right, it was a fantastic way to make money. It also helped that I became a better cook at home.

My mom appreciated it, certainly, when I took some time to make something good for the two of us to share. Those were some of the simplest, most enjoyable moments in that long two years.