My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

Here goes nothing.

Marron tied her apron tighter and spread the recipe journal open on the counter. The handwriting was cramped but legible: Steak with pastel peppercorns, blood sausage, and cave mushrooms.

She stared at it for a long moment, then at the pale meat on the counter.

Her stomach turned.

The Captain had written this recipe expecting Elena's body. Rich, dense meat that could stand up to bold peppercorns and earthy mushrooms. Instead, they now had mimic meat, and it was milder. The Lieutenant had said so himself.

"Like poultry." She had no idea if he was telling the truth, because the thought of a mimic eating other mimics was just another level of messed up.

After executing the Captian in cold blood and giving her a cut of meat, she decided to act in good faith.

"Unfortunately, the meat being changed is a significant thing."

Mokko turned to her. "Oh..." he nodded. "what ingredients do you need, then?"

Marron turned to her bear guardian, glad for his presence. Now she didn't have to do so much retrospection.

"Hmm...well, pastel peppercorns would take over the entire dish. It'd be a spicy potpourri. I don't want to waste any of this meat because..."

Eventually you'd run out of mimic corpse to harvest, her mind helpfully supplied. Marron's stomach dropped to the floor then, and her knees felt weak at the realization. She steadied herself by putting both hands on the sides of the food cart's counter.

"...we have a limited supply," Guildmaster Halloway said quietly. He had pulled up a chair and was sitting next to the food cart, like a silent supervisor.

"Yes, thank you, exactly. I want to make this count."

And worse—she'd remember this meal every time she cooked steak. Every time she cracked peppercorns. The memory would poison the food.

No.

She wasn't giving the Captain that power.

Marron flipped through the journal, looking for something else. From the first few pages, it looked like the Captain had only written one recipe.

"There has to be something else he was interested in..."

But unfortunately, it only had that one entry.

She hid the journal in one of Comfort & Crunch's junk drawers, glad that almost nothing had been messed with. It was still her domain and Elena, thankfully, hadn't tried to reorder her belongings. Marron's mind raced through different meals.

At a loss, she mentally called her System and clicked on its codex for Savoria recipes. "Do you have anything for bread rolls?"

She knew she looked crazy, her hands over a screen nobody else could see. But thankfully, only the Lieutenant looked at her with curiosity.

"What are you doing?"

"Long story," Marron said quickly. "I...it's like a large book that no one else can see. Magical artifact from the world I used to live in."

The Lietenant's cold eyes went a little wider at that. "So that's why you wer so difficult to figure out. You're not from Savoria."

"Mmhm." The System's cookbook was extensive, but many of the recipes were locked because she hadn't discovered them yet.

Show me the recipes available for level 12 chefs.

The System did as it was told and after scanning around 10 recipes, she found it.

The entry was called pressed roll sandwich. It reminded Marron of a baguette cut in half. In between were delicious-looking pickled vegetables and marinated dark meat. It was portable and had enough vegetables to look bright and satisfying. Next to it was a small container of soy sauce.

"Looks promising," She murmured before clicking the recipe. "Let's make it."

+

Even if it was only for the dungeon, Marron knew everyone deserved flavorful food.

"Change of plans," she said aloud.

Mokko looked up from where he'd been waiting. "What do you need?"

"Different recipe. The peppercorn one won't work—the meat's too mild." Marron pulled ingredients from her stores with renewed purpose. "I'm making pressed rolls. Marinated meat, pickled vegetables, herbs. Something bright."

She unwrapped the meat fully. Pale, clean-cut portions. She'd slice them thin for quick cooking.

Don't think about it. Just cook.

"Mokko, I need those cave mushrooms—sliced thin and sautéed with butter and salt." Marron pointed to the dark caps with their faint glow. "Lucy, check my cart for the quickpickle vegetables. Should be in the cold box."

Lucy was already moving.

"Elena." Marron met her eyes. "I need a marinade—sunsoy sauce, lime juice, honeysugar, fire-ginger, and garlic. Can you handle that?"

Elena's breath hitched, but she nodded. "Measurements?"

"Equal parts sunsoy and lime juice, half that in honeysugar. Ginger and garlic to taste. We want it punchy."

The kitchen came alive with motion. Mokko's knife work was surprisingly delicate for his size, each mushroom slice paper-thin and even. Lucy returned with jars of quickpickled radishes and carrots—bright pink and orange, still crisp and tangy. Elena mixed the marinade, tasting as she went until her eyes lit up with approval.

Marron sliced the meat paper-thin, working quickly. Each piece went into Elena's marinade, turning glossy and fragrant. The sunsoy and lime soaked in immediately, the fire-ginger adding a pleasant burn.

She found flatbread rolls in the kitchen stores—probably meant for the mimics' meals. Perfect. She split them lengthwise and toasted them over the furnace's edge until they crisped and browned.

A pan heated over the flames. Marron pulled the marinated meat from the bowl and laid it in the pan. It sizzled immediately, the marinade caramelizing into a savory-sweet crust. The smell was incredible—bright citrus, salty sunsoy, the warm bite of ginger and garlic.

She worked in batches, piling the cooked meat on a plate. Each piece was tender, flavorful, glazed with reduced marinade.

"Mokko, how are the mushrooms?"

"Ready." He slid them over—perfectly cooked, buttery and rich.

Marron assembled the rolls with practiced efficiency. Toasted bread first, spread with a quick sauce she mixed from cloudmilk cream and herbs. Then the meat, still hot from the pan. The pickled vegetables next, their brightness cutting through the richness. Fresh herbs from her stores—cilantro-like greens and mint. Finally, the sautéed mushrooms for depth.

She pressed each roll gently, letting everything meld together. The bread was crispy on the outside, soft within. The meat savory and tender. The pickles bright and tangy. The herbs fresh and alive.

It was beautiful. It was complete.

It looked like something you'd buy from a street vendor on a sunny day. Like something made with joy.

It was made from the Captain, and somehow that felt exactly right.

The Lieutenant stepped closer, watching her work. "You changed the recipe."

"The original wouldn't work. Wrong flavors for the meat." Marron arranged the rolls on a platter. "Besides, I didn't want to remember this meal every time I cooked steak."

Something flickered in the Lieutenant's expression. Understanding, maybe. "You're protecting yourself."

"I'm protecting the food." Marron adjusted the rolls so they looked perfect. "Food should make you feel good. Should remind you of good things. I'm not letting him poison that."

The Lieutenant was quiet for a moment. "That's... wise."

The platter was complete. Golden-toasted rolls stuffed with savory meat, bright pickles, fresh herbs, and rich mushrooms. It looked like celebration, not execution. Like something made with care.

Marron lifted the platter and turned toward the furnace. The white fire reached toward her, eager and hungry. The heat washed over her face, but she didn't flinch.

"Here goes everything," she whispered.

And fed the dungeon.

The fire roared. The platter disappeared into the flames, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the entire mountain shuddered.