Chapter 136: The Hashira's Night Talk
That afternoon, the group selected a forest clearing not far from the Ubuyashiki
estate as their campsite. A crystal-clear stream bubbled in the distance, backed
by a wall of lush, emerald forest. The environment was open, serene, and perfect
for a high-tier social event.
Initially, the veterans discussed asking the Kakushi to pull some pre-processed
vegetables and meat from the Master's private stores. But Natsuya waved the
suggestion off immediately.
"If we're going to have a proper feast, we need fresh loot. Store-bought stuff
doesn't proc the 'Flavor' bonus."
The boy spoke with total conviction, leaving Shinjuro and the others baffled.
Only Igarashi had a vague idea of what his Junior was planning.
Sure enough, while the others were busy setting up the grill, the charcoal, and
the folding chairs, Natsuya vanished silently into the treeline.
An hour later, the four Hashira heard the heavy thud-thud of approaching
footsteps. Natsuya emerged from the brush, looking like a high-level hunter
returning from a successful grind. In one hand, he carried a bucket of
splashing, fat river fish. With the other, he was dragging the carcass of a
massive wild boar that had been "physically disconnected" from the server. On
his back was a hand-woven basket overflowing with vibrant wild greens and plump
forest fruits.
His [Gathering] and [Fishing] were only LV.1, and his [Hunting] was technically
LV.0, but Natsuya's over-leveled stats effectively broke the game's difficulty
curve. As long as his senses were sharper, his movement faster, and his strength
several times higher than his prey, "hunting" was just a series of successful
QTEs.
Plus, the Colt M1903 made for an excellent long-range "Lure."
"Natsuya, you... did you go out and solo a forest?" Shinjuro sputtered. He
hadn't expected "fresh" to mean "personally harvested."
Gyomei Himejima immediately began to weep, his beads rattling. "Namu Amida
Butsu... what a tragedy for the forest spirits..."
Natsuya dropped the bucket and looked at the giant. "What's wrong? You're a
monk, you don't eat meat?"
Gyomei's chanting hitched for a second. "Well... technically, since the
Emperor's Edict a few decades ago, monks are permitted to consume flesh and take
wives..."
"Great. Then stop crying and give me a hand, Blind Monk. We need to prep this
stuff fast if we want to eat by sunset."
Blind Monk? Igarashi winced. Is he really addressing the Stone Hashira like a
random NPC?
Facing the "Head Chef's" orders, the "Prep Cook" Himejima answered honestly,
"This humble monk has some experience cleaning fish..."
"Perfect. Here." Natsuya shoved the bucket into the giant's hands. Then he
turned to the Flame Hashira. "Owl Uncle, head back to the Mansion and get me
some high-grade rice, a few heavy pots, and as many spices as you can loot from
the kitchen. Especially the expensive ones."
Owl... Uncle?
Shinjuro's eyebrow twitched. Does this kid only identify people by their
character models?
But remembering the taste of Natsuya's cooking back in Tokyo, the Flame Hashira
grumbled but walked back toward the Master's house.
Takizuki, meanwhile, was curiously digging through the basket of wild greens. As
a woman, she was far more interested in the "vegetarian options" than the raw
boar.
"Are you sure these are edible?" she asked, picking up a strange, heart-shaped
leaf. "I've never seen these in a market."
Even a Hashira with a superhuman constitution could be taken down by the right
neurotoxin.
Natsuya didn't even look up as he began the bloodletting on the boar. "Relax. My
[Gathering] and [Poison Crafting] skills are active. None of this is toxic. Now,
stay back and let me cook. I'm entering a Flow State."
With LV.4 Medicine, even if I poison someone, I can just 'Undo' the status
effect anyway, Natsuya thought.
Igarashi Uzen opened his mouth, then closed it. He decided not to mention that
many of the "wild animals" in the Master's backyard were actually pets the
Master had personally released for a "Nature Preserve" aesthetic.
I hope Oyakata-sama... doesn't mind tonight's menu.
By the time the "Owl Uncle" returned with the rice and gear, Natsuya had already
finished two courses.
The wild boar belly and loin had been tenderized with sea salt, crushed wild
mountain peppers, and a secret blend of herbs. They were currently sizzling over
a low charcoal flame. The skin was bubbling into a golden, amber crust, and the
rendered fat dripped into the coals, triggering a high-fidelity aroma that made
everyone's Hunger Bar spike.
"Lord Shinjuro," Takizuki whispered, watching the "Chef" work. "Where did this
kid learn to cook? Those knife skills aren't human."
She had watched him prep the greens; he moved faster and more precisely than a
professional chef at a Tokyo Michelin-star equivalent. A fifteen-year-old
Special-Grade Chef? That was a broken build.
Shinjuro shrugged. "He's just... one of those 'True Geniuses', I guess."
Takizuki rolled her eyes. That's a non-answer if I ever heard one. She accepted
a bamboo plate from Natsuya.
"Here. The appetizer," Natsuya said.
It was a "Mountain Vista" salad. Crisp root vegetables had been blanched in
spring water, chilled, and tossed in a sweet-and-sour wild berry reduction. The
greens were flash-fried in boar lard to provide a savory base, topped with
crispy charred mountain herbs and a layer of seasonal fruits.
Shinjuro took a bite and chewed slowly.
"Sigh..." the Flame Hashira muttered.
"Why the sigh, Senior?" Igarashi asked.
"I'm just realizing that for the last ten years, I've been eating absolute
garbage," Shinjuro lamented.
Igarashi: "..."
Finally, the main meal was served. Even Takizuki and Himejima understood why the
Yokohama and Tokyo veterans had insisted on Natsuya taking the lead.
"UMAI!" Shinjuro roared, biting into a cutlet infused with fruit-wood smoke.
Igarashi focused entirely on his plate. "It's been too long since I've had a
Kokonoe-original." He adjusted his glasses with his left hand, his right hand
refusing to let go of his chopsticks. "Does this dish have a name?"
"Boar of the Crushing Peak Sunday," Natsuya answered through a mouthful of food.
"And the fish?" Takizuki asked, savoring a perfectly moist, salt-crusted trout.
"Shimmering Sansho Stream-Trout."
The Wing Hashira nodded. "The skin is as light as a feather, the meat is as
fluid as water... the heat control is perfect. Natsuya-kun, your skills are
making Nee-san's heart flutter~"
She leaned against a tree trunk like a lazy cat, her eyes roaming over Natsuya.
"Have you considered what you'll do after retirement? You could come serve as my
personal chef. Nee-san knows how to pamper a talented man."
"I can warm your bed, fix your clothes... all you have to do is feed me like
this every day."
Shinjuro gave his Junior a flat, unimpressed look. Natsuya, however, didn't even
look up from the grill.
"I'll pass. By the time I retire, Takizuki-san, you'll be in your sixties. I
have zero interest in the 'Elderly Care' quest-line."
Igarashi snorted. "Takizuki, stop teasing him. He's immune to your
'Flashiness'."
The Wing Hashira let out a dramatic sigh, playing the "wounded maiden" part
perfectly. "Sigh. Men... you're all so unrefined."
But her eyes remained playful. She was clearly enjoying the dynamic of the new
"Rookie" Pillar.
Suddenly, Himejima, who had been eating in silence, began to weep again. His
massive shoulders trembled, and two streams of tears hit the rim of his bowl.
Shinjuro and Igarashi paused their drinking to look at him.
"Namu Amida Butsu..."
"This flavor... it reminds me of the mountain temple... the scent of new rice
during the autumn harvest."
Himejima was cradling a large bowl of steaming white rice, drizzled with a rich,
thick fish reduction and sprinkled with crushed wild greens and black sesame.
Two thin slices of seared boar sat on top. To him, the meat was just a garnish.
The "Crystalline" quality of the rice was what moved his soul.
"Lord Kokonoe... how did you achieve this level of... Carb Perfection?"
Natsuya blinked. "Uh... maybe the Master's rice is just high-quality? And the
fish broth was fresh?"
"I think I added a splash of yuzu juice to the cooking water too..."
The Stone Hashira nodded, continuing to shovel rice into his mouth with
religious fervor. "Amida Butsu... to taste such a miracle in this lifetime. I am
truly blessed."
As the sake flowed and the charcoal dimmed, the conversation naturally drifted
away from food and back to the duties of the Corps.
"You know," Takizuki said, swirling the last of her plum wine. Her voice was as
soft as the evening mist. "The last time we were all together like this... Fudo
Hino was still here."
"And now... sigh."
"We've slaughtered thousands of demons. But has anyone here ever actually seen
the face of the Demon King?"
The atmosphere instantly turned heavy. The orange glow of the fire painted the
Hashira's faces with shifting, grim shadows.
"Takizuki..." Igarashi started to say.
CRACK.
A piece of charcoal popped in the silence, sounding like a gunshot.
☆☆☆
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