Of Bugs and Broth

Chapter 10: Of Bugs and Broth

With the final menu drafted and prototype kitchen tools humming with mana, the next stage of preparation for the Continental Food and Culture Exchange had begun: testing, refining, and panicking—though not always in that order.

Shiro stood at the center of the Community Kitchen, wearing what could only be described as a rune-stabilized cooking cloak. His apron-shaped mana shield flickered with faint circuitry patterns, and his core glowed with both purpose and nerves.

"Alright," he muttered, projecting the recipes onto a floating display. "This is it. Time to taste reality."

His first attempt? The Healing Udon.

He prepared the slime-based broth with precise thermal modulation. Glowleaf was boiled, mana herbs steeped, noodles conjured and cut by his slime limbs. All went well—until it didn't.

[Analysis: Viscosity Imbalance Detected. Slime broth coagulating prematurely.]

"…Too much restorative mana," Shiro realized. "It's healing itself into a jelly."

One rework later, he replaced the Glowleaf concentration with moss cabbage and rebalanced the infusion cycle. The second batch? Slurped clean by Kaijin, who gave a hearty thumbs-up.

Next came the Razorhog Dumplings.

"Gotta keep the spice," Shiro said, layering the peppered meat mixture with a Root of Fire powder reduction. But a miscalculated enchantment from Gobchi accidentally triggered a spiciness multiplier glyph.

Yuki took one bite. His scream echoed for miles.

"I see a vision," Yuki rasped through tears. "It's… burning ramen gods."

"Note to self," Shiro sighed. "Seal Gobchi's spice drawer."

Finally, the Honeyglazed Glowleaf Tart.

Myrna's herbal syrup infused the glaze perfectly, and Shuna assisted with mana layering to enhance visual bloom. The tart sparkled with faint light and hummed with subtle mana resonance.

This dish worked. Too well.

Three pixies from the city's outskirts showed up uninvited, drawn by the dessert's magical scent trail.

"We followed the glow~!" one trilled.

Shiro jiggled anxiously. "Please don't steal my tart."

They didn't. But they licked the frosting off and declared it "worthy of fae tribute," before vanishing in a swirl of glitter.

Shiro updated the enchantment runes to include anti-tracking glyphs.

[Notice: Faerie Magnetism Detected. Mitigation Protocol Initialized.]

Outside of testing disasters, planning for Tempest's booth at the festival continued. Shiro paced in front of a series of magical blueprints outlining stall dimensions, rune-laced chillers, smoke-less grills, and aroma vents designed to circulate tantalizing smells in controlled bursts.

"We need impact," he told the team. "Visuals. Aroma. Ambiance. Our food must speak before it's even tasted."

Gobchi proposed steam-triggered illusion runes that projected dancing dumplings.

Myrna countered with floating spice petals that bloomed over each plate.

Shuna added lighting enchantments that made every meal look freshly plated.

Yuki, mouth bandaged from spice trauma, raised a sign that read: *Less Fire.*

That night, after everyone had gone home, Shiro stayed behind in the empty kitchen. He hovered over the simmering pot of forest root stew and let the flavors steep as his mind wandered.

The contest wasn't just about food. It was about diplomacy, reputation, pride—and proving that even a slime, reborn in a world he barely understood, could make something unforgettable.

[Milestone Achieved: Of Bugs and Broth — Culinary Systems Optimization in Progress]

Twenty-four days remained. And Shiro was just getting warmed up.