The original fried chicken

Aru took a small chunk of batter and dropped it into the oil.

The oil sizzled and bubbled in the large cast-iron wok on the stove. The firewood burned perfectly, and the oil's temperature had risen to a satisfying level.

Aru nodded as he looked at it.

The decisive moment was here.

He turned to look at the pile of marinated raptor meat and batter placed nearby.

One by one, he began to take pieces of the meat, dip them in batter, and place them on a separate tray. He planned to drop all the meat into the tray simultaneously to fry it evenly.

The tray was soon filled with meat covered in batter.

"Good," he nodded.

Then, he looked at the head chef nearby and said, "Sir, can you help me drop the meat into the wok?"

His question quickly captured everyone's attention. For the past hour, they had been closely observing all the steps Aru was performing. His calm and composed cooking style had silently won them over.