Chapter 1: The First Dish After Returning Home: Chicken Cutlet

“It’s been ages. How long has it been since I came back?”

Two months into retirement.

I had returned home.

Well, not my real home. That place had become somewhere I could never return to.

The place I came back to was my second home—the city of Hilton, where I first arrived after falling into this world.

Using the sword sheathed at my side as a makeshift cane, I took a stroll around the city.

“Nothing’s changed here.”

Perhaps because it was far from the warfront, it felt peaceful.

Still, it hadn’t completely escaped the war’s effects. Among the few citizens I saw, there were barely any young men.

I thought about the party members I had left behind not long ago.

“Those guys will manage just fine.”

They were already creating a storm of rumors wherever they went.

They had always been one of the top-ranked hero parties, but now people seriously believed they were the strongest candidates to slay the Demon King.

There were even rumors that the war would soon end thanks to their efforts.

It was great news, but hearing such things right after I left made me feel a bit conflicted.

“Was I holding them back after all?”

Sure, I had caused delays with my constant meddling, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

I didn’t regret it, but a slight pang of guilt crept in.

“Ah, forget it. It’s all in the past now.”

Shaking off unnecessary thoughts, I headed to my destination—a small house attached to a forge.

Once I arrived, I pounded loudly on the door.

Bang, bang, bang!

“Hey, Old Man! You’ve got a visitor!”

A booming voice answered from inside.

“Who the hell’s here to bother me now?!”

Good, still lively as ever.

Stepping back from the door, I waited.

Soon, the door swung open violently, revealing a burly middle-aged man with a fierce expression, brandishing a hammer.

“Who’s the damn bastard rushing me for another order this time?! …Kyle? Kyle, is that you?!”

“Yeah, it’s me. Long time no see, Old Man.”

“You damn brat! If you were alive, you should’ve sent a message! I thought you were dead!”

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

I basked in the warmth of his gruff welcome, which included a bear hug that nearly crushed me.

Once he finally let me go, he scanned me up and down, stopping when his eyes landed on my leg.

Under the loose pant leg, a wooden prosthetic was clearly visible.

His eyes trembled as he took in the sight.

“Where the hell did you sell off one of your legs?”

“I left it with the New Age.”

“What kind of nonsense is that supposed to mean?”

“I already mentioned it in a letter. The hero party—got cut off there.”

“So, you lost your job and your leg at the same time?”

“It wasn’t exactly a job for someone with a crippled leg.”

“What a proud claim, you fool!”

“Hey, Old Man! The hammer! You’re holding a hammer right now!”

Old Man Olek, who looked like he was about to hit me with the hammer, let out a deep sigh and gestured for me to come in.

“Isel’s going to cry her eyes out when she sees you. Come in already.”

“Is Isel not home right now?”

“She’s out running an errand. Sit down and prepare to console her when she gets back.”

“Well, that’s one thing I’m good at.”

“Good at, my foot. You’re an expert at making her cry, that’s what you are.”

As Old Man Olek stumbled inside, I awkwardly maneuvered my prosthetic leg and sat on a chair.

Once seated, the dull ache from the prosthetic pressing against me started to subside.

“Ah, I finally feel a bit alive again.”

Massaging my leg, I looked around the house.

Nothing had changed since before.

This was the house where Old Man Olek, a blacksmith, and his daughter Isel lived together.

Back when I was wandering aimlessly with nowhere to go, Olek had taken me in, and I lived here for a while.

Isel had been a truly kind person.

She treated me, a virtual street beggar at the time, like family.

‘Who are you? Wait, don’t move. Speak from there. If you move, I’ll call the city guards.’

‘We’re going to live together from now on? Dad, are you insane? Why are you bringing home a random stranger? What is he, some stray cat?’

‘Ugh, fine. Guess there’s no choice. Mister, what’s your name? Kaa… In? Il? What a weird name. I’ll just call you Kyle.’

‘Try anything even slightly suspicious, and I’ll kick you out, no matter what Dad says.’

…Although she was wary at first, she genuinely treated me like family.

It was around the time I was growing closer to Isel that something happened—something that shook up my second life.

‘There’s a crowd gathering outside… If you want to check it out, I’ll take you.’

A massive mercenary group heading to the front lines.

The [Fang Wolves] mercenary group had stopped in the city.

At Isel’s request, I went to see them and overheard their conversations in a tavern.

The Demon King.

And the hero.

Hearing their stories, I thought to myself:

Ah, this is a storybook world.

If I defeat the Demon King, maybe I can return to my original world.

Honestly, even I knew it was a crazy thought.

I’d lived in this world for years and had already accepted it as a separate reality.

But I wanted to believe it.

No, I had to believe it.

Otherwise, I’d have to face the truth—that I could never return.

To my home. To my parents. To my friends.

I’d have to give up on reuniting with them.

And I just couldn’t do that.

So, I left the village with the mercenary group, went through all kinds of hardships, and eventually returned here.

“Isel… She must be really angry with me, huh?”

No, that’s such a dumb question.

Of course, she must be angry.

She took in a beggar, cared for him with all her heart, and then he ran off without a word?

Even if she yells at me to get out of her house immediately, I wouldn’t have anything to say.

In the worst-case scenario, she might have completely forgotten about me and treat me like a stranger—

“No! Anything but puberty, please!”

Damn it, now’s not the time for this!

Instead of standing here like an idiot, I should prepare some sort of gift!

But what kind of gift should I prepare?

Nothing comes to mind.

What Isel liked the most was—

“The food I made for her?”

Now that I think about it, Isel loved the meals I cooked.

She would even pout if I didn’t cook for her while helping Olek with his work.

Since I’d never prepared a proper gift before due to being a beggar, that’s all I could think of.

And as I considered food, I recalled what I’d said to my party members when we parted ways.

“Alright, how about fried chicken?”

Although I’d never made fried chicken here, surely no one, even in this world, would dislike fried chicken!

Admiring my brilliant logical thinking, I went out to buy a chicken and some oil.

I prepared to clean the chicken and start making the fried chicken—

“But how do I make the batter?”

I paused mid-preparation.

Thinking about it, in my previous life, I’d always used pre-made chicken batter, which didn’t exist in this world.

Even if I decided to make the batter myself, all I had was flour.

Spices were expensive in this world.

I briefly considered frying the chicken with just a simple flour batter but quickly gave up.

“I want to make it properly if I’m going to make chicken.”

Still, there are plenty of delicious fried chicken recipes besides just fried chicken.

Flipping through mental recipes, I picked the easiest one to recreate.

That was—

“Let’s go with chicken cutlet instead.”

Chicken cutlet, or more familiarly, chicken katsu.

It’s a safe choice that would likely suit the tastes of the people here.

Perhaps a similar recipe already exists near the capital?

But since I’ve never seen it here in Hilton, Isel wouldn’t know about it.

“She’s going to be so surprised when she tries it!”

I smiled, remembering the first time I tasted chicken cutlet.

The first ingredient to prepare was chicken breast.

While chicken legs and wings are often considered the tastiest parts, and breast meat is known for being dry, this chicken cutlet was different.

Like with pork cutlets, the meat is pounded flat before frying.

This method makes the texture much more tender than the usual chicken dishes.

I scored the middle of the chicken breast to flatten it and gently rolled it out wider with a rolling pin.

“Next is the flour.”

From here, the process was just like making a regular cutlet: flour, egg, and breadcrumbs.

Each layer was applied evenly to create the coating.

The flour and egg were straightforward, but the breadcrumb step required a special touch, which was—

“Cheese.”

Parmesan cheese.

The very same cheese that comes in a jar beside pizzas or pastas at restaurants.

Of course, those kinds of cheese are mass-produced products that can barely be called Parmesan, while the real deal tastes entirely different—

“But here, they have real cheese!”

Since large corporations can’t cross dimensional barriers, the Parmesan cheese here is authentic.

Though it’s not called Parmesan, it tastes similar, so it doesn’t matter.

I finely grated the cheese and added it to the breadcrumbs.

“And a little salt to season…”

Breadcrumbs, Parmesan cheese, and salt.

I mixed them thoroughly in a bowl.

This created a savory, flavorful coating for frying.

“If only I had pepper and smoked paprika powder, it would’ve been perfect.”

But spices here are luxury items, so they’re hard to come by.

Pepper, in particular, is literally worth its weight in gold.

I gently pressed the chicken breast, coated in flour and egg, into the breadcrumb mixture, shaping the chicken cutlet.

I poured a generous amount of oil into a cast-iron pan and placed the cutlet in it.

Sizzle—

The cutlet cooked gently, more like being grilled than deep-fried, since the heat wasn’t too intense.

I added butter to enhance the flavor and cooked both sides until they turned golden brown.

The butter-soaked crust glistened with a delicious yellow sheen.

“Alright, that should do it.”

Cooking it for too long would make it dry, so I finished it quickly.

Since I had flattened the meat thinly, it didn’t take long to cook through.

I prepared corn and onions as a side, sautéing them in a buttered pan before plating them.

And with that, the chicken cutlet was complete.

I gazed at my finished dish with a proud expression.

“It’s been a while, but I haven’t lost my touch.”

Of course, it wasn’t a perfect dish.

I skipped adding sauce or mozzarella cheese to the cutlet due to the lack of ingredients.

Still, wouldn’t this level of cooking be enough to open a restaurant?

While I was lost in self-praise, I heard footsteps behind me.

“Dad, I’m home.”

Isel?

I couldn’t be sure.

The voice sounded completely mature, unlike the cute voice I remembered.

As I hesitated, the owner of the voice walked into the kitchen where I was standing.

“Why are you cooking dinner—”

I turned my head to look at her.

Light brown bobbed hair and a teardrop mole under her left eye.

She had grown so much, but there was no mistaking her face.

Smiling warmly, I spoke.

“It’s been a while, Isel.”

“Daisy… Uncle Kyle?”

Thank goodness. She remembered me.

Just as I sighed in relief, Isel rushed to hug me.