Chapter 5: How about a chicken?

The old man sat at the table in the center of the hall, closing his eyes.

It was a seat he had always looked at but never actually sat in.

Sitting in that seat and hearing the sounds of food being prepared in the kitchen, he was reminded of an unpleasant truth that he didn’t want to face.

He had become the old man in the back room.

His successor had already fully taken over his position, and there was no going back.

What he was trying to do now was just a desperate struggle filled with ugly old desires.

Eloy Graham, the former president of the Adventurers’ Guild Association, heard a whisper echoing in his mind.

‘Is deceiving that young, naive person really my best choice?’

It was nothing more than an absurd idea.

[Red Moon Sword] Kyle.

The rumor that he survived as the only one from Artarus because of his cursed sword, [Red Moon], was just nonsense.

Normally, it would have been laughable.

Though he had once wandered, he had been a member of the Hero Party.

His actions in the Isel Party proved that he wasn’t someone consumed by the cursed sword.

But his sticky desires questioned him.

‘What if that rumor is true?’

What if his sword really was a cursed sword, and he was controlling it by some means?

And what if he took it back and brought it to the Guild Association?

The Guild Association could never ignore it.

The cursed sword that brought Kyle, who was just a low-ranking mercenary, back from the hellish Artarus would be in his hands.

The power contained within that sword would draw noblemen seeking it.

The line of people would lengthen, and that power would eventually become his.

If that happened, Eloy Graham could return to his throne—

“Mm.”

As the old man’s heart wavered, the voice of desire grew louder.

‘Think carefully. This is not just for me.’

Let’s assume that [Red Moon] was indeed a cursed sword, as the rumors said.

In that case, it should never be in Kyle’s hands.

He had retired due to a leg injury.

Since the Isel Party had attempted to treat it, it was likely permanent damage and should be considered his retirement.

But how could a retired adventurer possess such a powerful cursed sword?

This would certainly cause trouble.

Whether the trouble was caused by him or by someone else desiring the sword didn’t matter.

Powerless wealth always leads to bloodshed.

Therefore, he should recover it.

To prevent the inevitable tragedy from occurring.

If it wasn’t a cursed sword, it didn’t matter.

Then it would simply be a legendary adventurer’s sword, which he could obtain.

Kyle had gained the restaurant with just a sword, so it worked out for him, and Eloy would gain a collection that didn’t exist anywhere else in the world.

Either way, it was a reasonable choice for him to make.

The whispers returned to Eloy’s ears as his heart began to lean further.

‘If you truly think that, was this really the only way?’

Kyle was an excellent adventurer.

The party with the title of ‘Hero’ was always exceptional, but Kyle and the Isel Party were especially so.

He had always thought of others.

He saved people regardless of their status and always threw himself in for those who were overlooked.

I heard that this was a direct reflection of Kyle’s strong opinions.

Such rare nobility.

Eloy, during his time as president, thought that if even half of the reports about Kyle were true, he would want to take him as his grandson-in-law.

And the Kyle he met in person was even more impressive.

It’s rare for adventurers to remain intact after retirement.

Those who traverse life and death seek strong stimuli to forget their fears and anxieties.

Drinking and women are the basics.

Some even live in drugs, finding pleasure in slaughter.

Even Kyle had lost a leg.

A man who had lived by the sword had lost an important leg in battle, so the anxiety must have been beyond words.

But he didn’t seem to have any anxiety.

His tone was polite, and he didn’t easily get angry or excited.

When he entered the kitchen and looked at the utensils, his eyes lit up as if he were an innocent young man who had never experienced war.

‘Is it really right to take away the last remaining comrade from such a young man with a silly bet?’

This bet was fundamentally flawed.

The judge who was supposed to decide the winner or loser was one of the participants. How could such a ridiculous bet even exist?

No matter how excellent the dish was, if it didn’t match his taste, then that was the end of it.

And even worse, Kyle had no doubt that this old man would engage in such sordid behavior.

Normally, Eloy would have called such innocence foolish, but now, with the awareness of his own depravity, that innocence cut through his heart like a sharp blade.

“Ha…”

As his heart swayed, desire urgently suggested a compromise.

‘Then we can just evaluate it fairly. What’s the problem?’

Eloy Graham had a hobby of cooking.

He took pride in both cooking and eating.

He had opened a restaurant near the guild and collected expensive spices as part of this hobby.

Though he was always looking out for the guild’s movements and waiting for a chance to return, there was never a time when he wasn’t serious about cooking.

So, with the bet as it was, he thought that as long as he played the role of a fair judge, it should be fine.

This thought brought him some peace of mind.

“Mm…”

Yes, let’s do that.

Don’t deceive yourself. Be fair.

Eloy Graham, who had come to a dramatic compromise with himself, opened his eyes.

Had he been thinking for a long time? The smell of a dish that was almost ready wafted from the kitchen.

Instead of the usual meal at this time, all he could smell was the aroma, and his stomach growled as if urging him.

The old man suppressed the anxiety caused by his hunger and savored the smell.

‘It’s a chicken dish. It’s neither grilled nor fried… could it be boiled?’

He thought of chicken soup, but then quickly shook his head.

The smell was oddly different, and most importantly, it was too common a dish to be made in his kitchen.

‘There’s a lot of rare ingredients left. He wouldn’t just make chicken soup, would he?’

Not only that, but there were also spices, which would be difficult to find even from Kyle’s perspective.

Since there was a bet on the line, he would surely use them generously to create as extravagant a dish as possible.

If he were to overuse the spices in his eagerness, it would undoubtedly result in something inedible. However, judging by his character, that probably wouldn’t happen…

The old man, thinking so, couldn’t hide his surprise upon seeing the dish that Kyle brought.

“Chicken soup? Did you really make chicken soup with those ingredients?”

“Oh, this isn’t chicken soup. It’s a similar dish, though, it’s a dish from my hometown.”

“A dish from your hometown? What’s it called?”

“What’s it called?”

Kyle smiled faintly.

It was a playful expression, as if he was thinking the old man wouldn’t know even if he told him.

“It’s called ‘One Chicken.’”

And just as his expression suggested, the old man stared blankly at the dish, unsure of what to make of it.

Chicken dishes are generally well-liked.

Chicken, being a cheap and easily obtainable meat, is enjoyed across all cultures.

Though there may be places that forbid beef or pork due to religious rules, there’s no place where chicken is prohibited, and this fact strongly supports that.

However, even if chicken is generally liked, the method of preparation can always vary.

When I had cleaned the chicken and boiled it in a pot, Selly had raised a question.

“Uncle, do we really need to boil the chicken for chicken cutlets?”

“No, if you do that, the chicken will be overcooked and tough.”

“Then why are we boiling it?”

“Well, I’m making a different dish.”

“Why? That dish was really delicious. If you make that, maybe Grandpa will even approve.”

Selly really liked the chicken cutlets, didn’t she?

But in my opinion, that wasn’t the right choice.

I explained why I thought so to Selly.

“Selly, what did you think of Grandpa?”

“What do you mean… He was tall and strong, unlike most old people.”

“Right. Despite looking old, his posture was upright, and his physique was sturdy.”

That’s a body that can’t be achieved without diligent health management.

And in a place like this, without modern medical technology, it’s hard to maintain that level of health unless you’re very particular about your diet.

Health is largely influenced by genetics, so I can’t say for sure, though.

‘He’s a person who sticks to a strict routine, so it’s likely he maintained a healthy diet.’

Unfortunately, deep-fried foods are the enemy of health!

It’s like magic that amplifies flavor while stealing away health.

Furthermore, for an elderly person with a weakened digestive system, eating fried food for lunch would be difficult.

“So, a healthy dish is better than a fried one.”

“Now that you mention it, that makes sense. So, what are you making now?”

“This?”

Well, it’s obviously boiled chicken.

When you think of summer health dishes, this is the one that comes to mind!

Samgyetang!

…Well, it’s impossible without ginseng, but it’s similar to the dish made with a whole chicken!

This dish should suit the elder’s tastes.

Although he’s not a Korean elder, this is one of the Korean dishes most foreigners enjoy, so it should be fine.

The recipe is simple.

After preparing the chicken, put it in water with onions, leeks, garlic, and whole peppercorns, then boil it. Once strained, the first step of the cooking process is done.

By simmering the broth like this, I can eliminate the chicken smell at the same time.

I instinctively reached to add a handful of garlic but stopped and sniffed the garlic.

“Ugh.”

Come to think of it, this isn’t Korea.

If I had carelessly added everything, I would have made a garlic soup and might have been hit with a spoon.

I removed half of the garlic and turned up the heat.

After 30 minutes, I cut the boiled chicken into pieces and strained the broth.

Selly, seeing this, asked in a voice full of doubt.

“It smells delicious, but this isn’t the end, right?”

“Is it the end?”

“Uncle, do you really want to be executed?”

“Of course not. I’m just kidding. I’ll add a little more.”

This base is done, but it still lacks seasoning and additional ingredients.

Normally, you would enhance the flavor here with chicken stock, soy sauce, and anchovy sauce, but—

‘Of course, those are nowhere to be found.’

No matter how much of a spice-filled restaurant this is, they wouldn’t have industrial products like chicken stock.

Soy sauce and anchovy sauce aren’t used here, it seems.

But if you don’t have teeth, you have to use your gums.

I took out an ingredient from the refrigerator that was stored in a glass jar.

“What’s that? Is it fish?”

“Anchovy. It’s pickled herring.”

Although it’s a herring-type fish, it’s actually anchovies.

In other words, it’s the Korean-style fermented anchovies.

The difference is that it’s marinated in olive oil and eaten directly or on bread, but if you remove the oil, it’s no different from fermented anchovies.

‘If I put them whole, they’ll be too salty, fishy, and crumble, making the broth cloudy.’

But if I use them as a flavor enhancer and for seasoning, like in dried seaweed?

Honestly, this is a first attempt for me, but it’s worth trying.

With a pounding heart, I wiped the oil off the anchovies, wrapped them in a cooking cloth, and placed them in the pot.

I also added sliced potatoes, leeks, and chives.

‘I wish I had kalguksu noodles.’

I can’t make the dipping sauce for the chicken in the Korean style, so I’ll just substitute salt.

After boiling it until the potatoes are tender, I removed the cloth and poured some broth into a small dish to taste and handed it to Selly.

“Here, try it.”

“Uncle, are you sure this is fine? Shouldn’t we add some more spices or something—”

“Let’s try it first, then we’ll talk.”

“…Okay.”

With a determined expression, Selly took the plate.

The chicken broth flowed into her mouth along with the plate.

After swallowing the broth, Selly suddenly exclaimed in surprise.

“What is this! It’s delicious! No, why is this so tasty?”

“Well, it’s because I made it delicious.”

Good, if the response is like this, then there’s no problem.

I confidently plated the dish, feeling victorious.