Chapter Three

The Head Chef was very accommodating, setting me up with an apron, knife, and making it clear to the other employees I had free reign of the kitchen. He also assigned himself as my sous chef, allowing him to watch me work from close up.

One glance at their pantry and I knew I could make nearly anything I wanted. The only thing they were missing was noodles for pasta, jam, and dried seasonings. That would have to be corrected eventually, but for now I decided to make a world favorite—chicken and dumplings.

While I measured out the ingredients I needed for the dumplings, I had the chef take apart two whole, roasted chickens and put the meat into a tall stock pot. Making chicken broth the normal way would take too long, so I asked him if he could bring me a bowl of drippings from the poultry grill and I showed him how to turn it into a thick gravy using flour and milk.

Just like Aron had, the chef made a startled noise when I poured the gravy into the pot with the chicken, but he didn't try to stop me. Using the gravy as a roux, I added water to thin the gravy into a soup, then set it to boil.

Turning my attention to the dumplings, I explained the various ingredients I was using as I mixed them in a bowl together. It didn't take long for dough for dumplings to form. I used a rolling pin to flatten it out and a knife to cut it into squares.

Then came the moment of truth. I picked up a dumpling square and dropped it into the pot. The gasps I heard coming from every direction made me laugh, but I kept going, dropping them in one at a time until there were none left. I explained they had to be dropped separately so they wouldn't stick together and the Head Chef bobbed his head like it made perfect sense, even though his expression said I was working unimaginable wizardry.

Fifteen minute later, I used a ladle to spoon out a dumpling and taste-test it. They had salt in the pantry here, so it wasn't as bland as my vegetable soup had been. I'd gone easy on it, though, since I didn't know how people would react to this type of flavor.

Pronouncing myself satisfied, I asked the Head Chef to bring bowls from wherever he was hiding them and ladled out servings for myself, Frank, and the rest of the kitchen staff. Even before I got to eat my share, I I began hearing murmurs of surprise and approval from every corner of the room.

"Quick!" the Head Chef called out suddenly. "Jo, Kriess, put more poultry on—everything we have. Mary, change the signboard for tonight's special. Simon, start prepping the dumplings. Use all the flour we have. Garret, make sure we have everything we need in stock and go get more if we're low."

I leaned against a counter and watched as everyone scrambled to follow orders while still trying to finish off their piping hot bowls of chicken and dumplings. Gesturing for the chef to come closer, I asked quietly, "Do you know how to make a pie crust?"

"Yes, of course," he said. "We only do pies on seventh-day, though."

"If you boil potatoes, carrots, and peas together until they're soft, then drain out the water, add chicken and gravy without thinning it, you'll have a good filling for a chicken pot pie. Instead of a sweet dessert, it'll be a savory meal."

The Head Chef gasped like I'd just told him something salacious.

"Chicken gravy is so simple, I'm not going to charge for it. I'd rather if its use became common. As for the ten sauces I promised, I'm thinking barbecue sauce for meat, caramel sauce for fruit, vinaigrette for salad, marinara sauce for pizza, cheese fondue for dipping, tomato sauce for pasta, hollaindaise sauce for eggs, tartar sauce for fish, and seasoned olive oil for dipping bread. Not all of those should be patented, especially the caramel sauce, but I think at least a few will make the cut for resale."

The chef was already looking dazed at my list, but I counted them up in my head and only came up with nine. "I wish I knew how to make ranch sauce from scratch, but I don't, so would a second version of barbecue sauce work for the last one? I was thinking I'd teach you how to make chocolate fondue, but I didn't see any processed chocolate in your pantry and I don't know how to make chocolate bark from beans."

The Head Chef abruptly dropped to his knees in front of me. "Please come work here!" he shouted.

"Don't wanna," I replied childishly. "Don't worry, though. I'm going to be working in the dismantling division, so I'll have plenty of opportunity to stop by and cook stuff. Actually, I can show you another few dishes right now if you want. They're cheap and filling. You'll need a clean potatoes, salt, cheese, butter, and cooking oil."

As the Chef scrambled to get the ingredients, I glanced over to find Frank staring at me. "What?" I asked.

"You make no sense," he said. "If you can do this much as a Chef, how was it you were ever inside a dungeon to begin with?"

I grinned at him. "Maybe I was going through a rebellious phase? Who knows."

I was in the middle of teaching the Head Chef how to make potato chips, cheese gratin on a stick, and spiral potato skewers when the kitchen door slammed open and a crag-faced, middle-aged man in a shiny steal chestplate stomped inside shouting, "Who made this?" The bowl in his hand made it clear someone had given him some chicken and dumplings.

"I did," I said boldly, unconcerned with the man's bulging muscles or the fierce glare he sent my way. I didn't think anyone in the room would let me be harmed, considering I was their new poster boy.

"What is it?" the strange man barked.

"Chicken and dumplings."

"Guildmaster!" the Head Chef squeaked. "Please calm down. Master Albert has already taught us how to make it and have given us leave to add it to the menu. He's also agreed to consult us regularly in the future, so please don't offend him."

"You can leave off the 'Master' business," I said easily. "I prefer Al."

Frank jumped in next. "Al will begin working in the Dismantling Workshop tomorrow under the Chief. His wish is to get to know potential ingredients before he takes up the mantle of Chef himself. In the meantime, he's agreed to fair terms in the making and resale of various sauces which we can serve here at the Guild before anyone else."

"There's a few recipes I'd like to have spread to the public for free," I interjected. "But, yes, there's a few proprietary recipes I'd like to have patented. If the Guild will manage that for me, I'd be a load off my shoulders."

The Guildmaster gave me a suspicious look. "You don't want to save them for yourself? You could work in the Grand Duke's kitchen with a recipe like this."

I made a face. "Hell, no. If there's a possibility the Grand Duke might try to force me to work in his kitchen, I'd like it if my name could be kept secret. As a Chef, I wouldn't be happy being stuck cooking for one person. I want to work somewhere my recipes can be enjoyed by anyone, commoner or nobleman."

The Guildmaster gave me an understanding nod and said, "Why don't you come up to my office? Frank, you, too. We should hammer out a contract immediately, before anyone else can lure Al away. Al, this is for your sake, too. If you're under contract with us, you'll be protected to a certain degree."

"Um, before we go, can anyone tell me what time it is? I need to pick my little brother up from school."

"It's only noon. You still have four hours. Let's make the best of them."

Three hours later, I left with a bag of ten silver and fifteen gold in my Item Box—the Guildmaster taught me how to use it—as an advance commission. It was decided I would work as a dismantler like I wanted, but spend an hour a day consulting with the Guild's Head Chef and Frank on new recipes. Together, we'd decide whether something I taught was worthy of being patented or if the recipe should be spread for free due to simplicity. The Guildmaster wasn't too happy when I specified that part of the agreement, until I pointed out people would figure out how to make things like potato chips as soon as they ate one. Trying to patent something like that would be like trying to patent the wind.

I was also very careful to specify my contract couldn't be sold or traded and any attempt to do so would be a breach worthy of immediate contract severance. We added the clause as an addendum to my contract as a dismantler, as well. Hopefully, it'd be enough to keep me safe from nobles who might discover I was the source of new recipes flowing from the Guildhall. As an extra step, the Guildmaster put out a gag order on the kitchen staff to keep any of them from selling me out, although he admitted someone would likely leak it anyway. They were simple people and the money nobles could pay would inevitably loosen lips.

When I left out through the front of the Guild, the tables were full of people eating chicken and dumplings. The silence as everyone applied themselves to their food left a smile on my face. It was the best compliment a Chef could receive.

Since I still had an hour before I needed to swing by and pick up Jason, I leisurely explored the city. Every kept calling it a town, but I could see the town's massive stone walls encircling us from a distance. The size alone suggested this was some kind of ancient metropolis. The ground was paved and worn smooth from centuries of use. The sheer number of people I saw walking around numbered in the tens of thousands.

I wandered into one of the many open-air markets scattered through the city. It was almost like a flea market with how randomized the stall layout appeared, but I noticed a pattern by focusing on the food stalls. They were separated just enough that the scents didn't overlap unpleasantly. Also, cooked food stalls were always on the left-hand side while raw ingredients were always sold on the right. Interspersed between them were two to four craft stalls.

Since I'd eaten recently, I successfully fought the urge to taste everything I smelled and focused my search on things I needed. New clothes were a must, as were the tools I'd need for work. I decided to wait on picking up anything for Jason, knowing he'd want to pick out styles his classmates were wearing.

At the clothing stalls, ladies were all-too-happy to make suggestions on what would suit me. I chose a few shirts without collars—ones most similar to t-shirts despite the fancy embroidery. And I bought three pairs of stiffer deerskin trousers implementing buttons instead of drawstrings. The trousers were a little more expensive than I expected, but they were a must. I felt like I was walking around in pajamas with the pants I had on.

The work apron was sold at several different stalls, so I picked up a plain one similar in color and style to those I'd seen everyone else wearing. Curved skinning knifes were plentiful, too, so I searched for one with a comfortable handle and a length I could easily manage. Together with a belt holster, it only cost a fraction of my other purchases.

On my way out of the market, a stall selling black rocks caught my eye. There were three bins where the rocks had been sorted according to size. One rock in the medium bin had an odd, prismatic finish unlike all the others around it.

"What are these?" I asked the stall owner. He took one look at my clothes and smiled in sympathy for my seeming ignorance.

"These are Authurian stones," he explained, holding one up. "Whenever you drop them in water, the stone falls away to reveal random items. Usually, they're common things you can find anywhere, but there's a chance to get rare dungeon loot you can't find anywhere else. Would you like to try?"

"I would, but before I do, can I ask why that one is shiny?"

"Which one?"

"That one."

The stallkeeper looked in the area I pointed, but didn't seem to tell which one I meant. I didn't see how he could miss it. He looked back to me, his expression filling with sudden understanding. "Lad, by chance, do you have the Oracle blessing?"

"I do," I replied cautiously.

"Then you definitely need this stone," he said. "It'll have a rare item inside."

"What?" I blurted. "But isn't that cheating? It's supposed to be a random lottery. Isn't it?"

The stallkeeper shook his head. "The Gods are the ones who pointed it out to you. They want you to have it, so it'd be poor of me if I let you leave without taking it."

"At least let me pay for it," I said. "How much?"

"I'm the curious type, so I'll let you have it free if you'll open it here." He held up a hand to stop me from complaining. "Actually, it's not just curiosity on my part. Something good will definitely come out of it and I plan to make a scene. If I'm lucky, it'll cause a rush to buy and I'll sell out really fast. You can slip away with your loot as soon as it starts."

He gave me a wink and I found myself folding. "Okay," I said, hefting up the melon-sized stone. "I assume you have water prepared?"

The stallkeeper pointed at the trough of water between his stall and the next. A few people who'd overheard some of our conversation, including the neighboring stallkeeper, gathered around to see what I got. They leaned forward, nearly bowling me over, as I lowered the stone into the water.

The water bubbled as if I'd dropped an antacid inside and the surface momentarily clouded. When it calmed down and the water cleared, the stone was gone and I could clearly see a butcher knife laying on the bottom. The people around me gasped as I pulled it out and wiped the water from the surface.

"Sir!" the neighboring stallkeeper exclaimed loudly. "Is that a mithril knife?"

"How do I tell?" I asked, turning it over to look at both sides of the blade. As far as I could tell, it was merely stainless steel. Did a fantasy world like this have the know-how to make stainless steel, though?

"No, no, no," he said. "There's no doubt. That's definitely mithril. No other metal has that shine, that luster. You really got something good there. I can't believe you got something like that out of a mid-sized Authurian stone."

"I want to try next," someone called out. I took that as my cue to leave and stowed my new butcher knife in my Item Box to look at later.

I thought it was about time to pick up Jason, so I headed straight for the school and found him waiting outside with a small group of classmates his age. From the adoring looks on the classmates' faces, I figured Jason had probably had a successful day. Actually, since 'transmigration equals instant success' was a thing, Jason was likely already known as a prodigy.

The Headmaster cut me off before I could call out to Jason, asking me if we could have a quick meeting. It didn't take long. Apparently, Jason had introduced the concept of a two-stroke engine and wow'ed his teachers with his ability in math. The Headmaster wanted to immediately put him into one of the more advanced classes and needed my permission to give him the necessary skills tests.

"I don't think that's wise," I said. "If it's reading, writing, and written math, then I have no problem, but he has no experience when it comes to crafting using tools or the use of magic in crafting. Please teach him from the beginning so he has a firm foundation."

The Headmaster was disappointed, but agreed when I put it that way. I had a feeling I'd be hearing from him again.

Jason excitedly filled my ears with news about his day the entire way back to the market. It made me smile and I allowed him to ramble on until we reached a clothing stall. I distracted him by telling him to pick out some clothes he could wear to school.

"Do we have money for this?" he asked as he dug through a bin of dyed tunics. They were the same design Jason's new friends had been wearing.

"Let's just say my day was as successful as yours. Pick out enough for two or three days. You'll need pants, too, and I think we'll have to special order shoes at a cobbler. I didn't see any stalls selling premade ones."

I was in the middle of paying for Jason's clothes when he suddenly tugged on my sleeve. "Al," he said urgently. "What's with that building?"

I looked across the street in the direction he was pointing and saw what must have drawn his attention. A thin building tucked between two larger inns was covered in that weird prismatic effect I'd seen on the Arthurian stone, only this one had a muddy brown hue.

I finished paying, stored everything in my Item Box, then asked, "You want to check it out?"

Jason shrugged noncommittally in a way only a teenager could. Part of me wanted to take that as a 'let's skip it', but the Oracle marker was pulsing in a way that went straight to my gut. "Listen," I said, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "That light effect means something is happening there we need to check out, but the color is probably saying it's something bad. I'll go in and I want you to wait outside. If I call out to you, I want you to run and find someone who looks like a policeman. This is a fantasy world, so they won't look like police. Search for someone who might be a knight or a guardsman. Okay?"

The muddy prismatic coloring was pulsing so fast now, I didn't think there was time to make a better plan. We hurried across the street and I went through the front door without knocking. The signboard over the door said it was a boarding house, so I thought it'd be okay.

The front room was a sitting area which appeared as if it'd been ransacked. Cushions were scattered and chairs were overturned. I heard the muffled cry of a woman coming from upstairs.

"Jason, go!" I ordered. Heading to the next room, it wasn't hard to track the path of mayhem through the dining area and up a narrow switchback stairwell to a narrow hall. Three doors in the hall were closed and I heard another muffled cry come from the last room with an open door.

Rage filled me when I peeked inside. A woman should never have that kind of face and a man should never tear a woman's dress like that. I moved so fast, I practically teleported across the room. Grabbing the assailant by his collar, I ripped him off the bed and punched him in the face. While he was still trying to figure out what was happening, I hit him again to knock him down, then flipped him on his stomach and twisted his arms behind his back to hold him down. He bucked under me, trying to get free, but a knee dug in the middle of his back put an end to his escape attempts.

I ignored the meaningless threats he began to throw back at me and turned my attention to the woman. "Are you okay?" I asked in concern. "I didn't do something unnecessary, did I?"

She stared at me like nothing in the world made sense. I repeated myself, carefully keeping the man below me under control, until she startled and answered. "No, you saved me," she said, grasping the collar of her ripped dress closed. "That... That rapist attacked me when I said he couldn't stay here anymore. He's been nothing but trouble since I leased a room to him. I told him I had enough of his attitude and to find somewhere else to go and he hit me and started tearing up the parlor and—"

Seeing she was about to start hyperventilating, I cut her off. "You don't have to say anything else. I sent my little brother to look for a guard. He should be back soon."

Right as I said that, a knight in a bright blue surcoat stepped into the room with his sword drawn. He looked from the woman, to me, then to the man I was holding down. He seemed to get the picture without anyone having to say anything and sheathed his sword.

"Can you hold him for another few minutes?" the knight asked me. "I'll need to send up a flare for backup to transport him."

"I'm good," I said. "Do what you need. He's not going anywhere." To make my point, I dug my knee in a little harder and the man cried out, begging me to stop.

"Madam," the knight said, turning to the lady I'd saved. "Would you like to come downstairs with me? This samaritan seems to have things well in hand, but I wouldn't want you nearby if the cad manages to get loose."

She agreed and allowed the knight to escort her out of the room. Several minutes later, the knight returned with a second knight in tow and they took over dragging the criminal outside to a waiting prison carriage.

I followed them down and noticed a third, female knight taking the landlady's victim statement at the dining table. I was glad to see there gender equality in the ranks, and they were wise enough not to demand the lady to speak to a male after what happened to her.

I waited outside with Jason, knowing someone would need to get my statement, and they did. The line of questioning wasn't as detailed as what cops on Earth might have demanded, but the evidence spoke for itself in this case. No one seemed surprised when I explained how we'd been drawn to the place due to the strange Oracle marker.

"Good work noticing it," one of the knights said, reaching out to ruffle Jason's hair. "More importantly, good work not ignoring it. A muddy marker like the one you saw, a lot of people settle for summoning a peacekeeper and never try to step in. Usually, by the time we arrive, things have progressed to a level that leaves scars. I don't think we'll need to worry about that here. The Madam seems strong-willed and, although she might be shaken, I think she'll bounce back fairly quickly."

"Will we need to testify?" I asked.

The knight didn't seem to understand my question. "What do you mean?"

A sick feeling filled my gut. "Won't he be put on trial?" I hated to think he was going straight to life in prison with only my accusation and the landlady's against him. While he might be guilty, I needed to know the local justice system was fair.

The knight's expression cleared and he smiled. "Yes, of course, but you won't need to testify unless there's a question of his guilt. I suppose you don't remember, but criminals are questioned under a truth spell during their trial. He'll have no choice except to admit his wrongdoings."

I wasn't expecting that and it must have shown on my face, because the knights chuckled. "You can have faith in the justice system. We only punish the guilty in Alisfar."

I wanted to say no system was perfect, but that had been on Earth where magic truth-spells didn't exist.

"We should be getting back to the Sanctuary," I said. "We've been out most of the day, so the Priest might be worrying about us."

"Please wait," the landlady called out from inside the building. She quickly appeared in the doorway, holding her ripped dressed closed. Her hair was still disheveled, half of it hanging out of the bun at the back of her head, and a bruise was forming on her cheek. It was clear to anyone who saw her, she'd been through hell.

"I don't know your names," she said.

I smiled at her and replied, "I'm Al. This is my little brother, Jason." Even though we were clearly different races, no one had argued about me taking responsibility for the kid when I stated our relationship in such a way. Jason grinned over being called my little brother, too.

"I don't mean to pry, but you say you're returning to the Sanctuary? May I assume it means you have nowhere to go?"

"That's right," I confirmed, already knowing where this was going. "Today, I focused on securing work, so I haven't had a chance to find lodging yet."

"Won't you stay here? I'd be happy to waive your first month's fee to thank you for stepping in today. The only other person who shares the house is my son and he works at the Guild, so I can provide references if you need them. I'd understand if you're wary having strangers around your brother."

"That sounds great, but we have a condition you might find insulting. You see, I'm a chef, so I'd need to be the one to cook our meals."

"That's perfectly understandable. How about this—if you provide me with a shopping list, I'll gather the ingredients for you. And if you're willing to cook extra for myself and my son, I'll give you a discount on your lodging fees."

I gave her a nod. "It's a deal. We'll return to the Sanctuary tonight, but you can look forward to seeing us tomorrow sometime after school lets out. We can finalize any paperwork at that time."

She sighed in relief. "I look forward to seeing you."

I shook hands with the knights to thank them for their quick response and quickly led Jason away. He was eager to tell me about his adventurer searching for a guard, which hadn't been much of an adventure at all, really. The kids at school had pointed out the guard shack near the school when he'd been nervous waiting for me outside at the end of the day. Having it near the school not only protected the kids, but provided around-the-clock protection of the crafting tools in the building.

"Was everyone nice at school?" I asked.

Jason nodded frantically, his white bunny ears flopping around his head with the movement. "People were really curious about my job title. A lot of them have never heard of an Engineer before, so I told them what engines were and everyone was really amazed. They wouldn't stop asking questions, even when I said I didn't know the answer. Kalim and Jeremiah helped me a lot. Kalim is a Fabricator and Jeremiah is a Programmer. They came from another world, too, so they've been in my shoes, but they said I shouldn't tell the adults where my knowledge comes from because the people born here don't know anything about the multiverse."

"Isn't multiverse too big of a word for a kid like you?" I asked in amusement.

Jason snorted. "I watch comic book movies like everyone else. Hey, did you know that guys are considered adults at sixteen here? But girls aren't adults until they're eighteen."

"I didn't know that, but you don't have to worry. I'll watch out for you as long as you need. Take your time learning for as long as you can."

"I'm going to build a train," he said firmly. "I learned today that travel between cities is dangerous because caravans move slow and attracts beasts. Even going by sea is dangerous because there's big monsters like kraken, leviathans, and elephant sharks in the water. If there was a train, it would be safer. Wouldn't it?"

"That's a great goal, but maybe you should start smaller with bicycles and work your way up to motorcycles. Remember, they don't have gasoline here, so you'll have to figure out how to incorporate magic as a fuel source. And trains cost a lot of money to build. You have to pay for the materials and you'll have to pay workers to build it. You'll probably have to hire Adventurers to protect the people laying the tracks, too. You'll need to make bridges to span gaps in the terrain and you'll need to dig tunnels through mountains. Constructing land bridges are important, too, so you don't mess up the migration habits of wild creatures. There's a lot of different things you'll have to consider. And you'll need to get financial support, which no one is going to hand a kid your age unless you prove you can do what you say."

"They talked about that today in school. I need a proof-of-concept. Right?"

"Exactly. I'm glad to see you're settling in so well."

"I love it here!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you miss your mom?"

Jason had to think about it, which I found surprising. "I do miss her," he said finally. "But she wasn't home a lot because she had to work and I know she's okay back on Earth. It's not like she's dead or anything. It's more like I went on a trip without her. Is that bad?"

"No, it's a good way to look at it. If you ever start to feel homesick or start to miss her, you can talk to me, though. Sometimes it helps to get your feelings off your chest."