My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

The Silver Spoon was alive with the low hum of evening prep. Staff bustled through the wide, polished kitchen, carrying trays of gleaming produce and fragrant herbs, their movements neat and practiced.

In the midst of it all, a few heads turned when Zehra stepped through the back door, her scales shimmering faintly with residual hues from her stroll.

"You're late," a sous-chef teased, though with a nervous edge—Zehra's opinion carried weight here.

She only laughed, dropping into her chair with the ease of someone untouchable. "I had a reason. I just sampled the food of the new up-and-coming chef—the one with the humble food cart."

A ripple of interest spread through the kitchen.

"Well?" someone dared to ask.

"She has potential," Zehra said, her smile sly. "But that cart of hers definitely helps. It might be one of the Legendary Tools."

That silenced them all for a heartbeat. Whispers started up almost immediately, eyes flicking toward the large framed tapestry at the back of the room. Its dark silhouettes showed the outlines of fabled relics: a glowing skillet, a celestial ladle, a goblet that seemed to shimmer even in shadow… and one shape that looked suspiciously like a food cart.

"Legendary tool or not," Zehra continued, her tone turning thoughtful, "she has some skill. Unrefined, like coal hiding a diamond."

One of the younger cooks rushed up with a steaming bowl. "Chef Zehra! Please—your thoughts? The tomato soup."

She accepted it with the reverence of ritual, swirling the spoonful, letting the scent curl around her tongue before tasting. Her eyes half-lidded as the flavor blossomed.

"Add a touch more pepper," she said finally, placing the spoon down.

The young cook nearly bowed in relief. "Thank you, Chef Zehra! Your tongue is amazing."

She chuckled softly, her golden eyes gleaming. "A sensitive tongue is both a curse and a gift. It built my career… and it may build hers, too, if she learns to trust herself."

Her gaze flicked back toward the tapestry, lingering on the food cart's silhouette. Her smile sharpened.

"To think that someone who could possess one of the Legendary Tools is here, in this very town."

The kitchen murmured around her, the words settling heavy in the air. Zehra leaned back, folding her arms with a predator's patience.

Whetvale was about to become very interesting.

+

By the time the last of the dishes were cleaned and Lucy wobbled happily back into her jar, Marron finally allowed herself to slump into a chair. Her whole body ached, but it was the kind of tired that felt good—earned.

Mokko came in from the cart with a grin so wide it nearly split his face. He set down the heavy gold box on the inn's kitchen counter with a dramatic thunk.

Marron peeked inside—and her breath caught. Gold coins gleamed up at her in neat, overflowing stacks. "That… that can't be right."

Mokko wagged a clawed finger. "Oh, it's right. Today you made over four thousand gold, Marron."

She blinked at him, then at the box again, dazed. "Four… thousand?"

Lucy squealed in delight, her ribbon fluttering like streamers.

Marron pressed her hands over her face, fighting a dizzy giggle. "I don't even remember people paying. It was all so fast—"

"Luckily, I did," Mokko said, looking very pleased with himself. "Beignets at ten gold, onigiri at twenty. We sold out both days. You're officially rich, Chef."

The system chimed in her ear, its voice crisp and pleased:

[Mission Complete! 3-Day Earnings surpassed expectations.][New Title: Budding Businesswoman.]

[Current Currency: 4,000 gold, 1000 XP.]

[Reputation in Whetvale increased significantly.]

Marron sagged back in her chair, the tension finally draining from her shoulders. She had enough gold to cover lodging, ingredients, and even a cushion for Meadowbrook's rebuilding efforts. For the first time since arriving, the fear of letting people down finally disappeared.

She stretched, smiling faintly. "Tomorrow, we're going to add something vegetarian. Something warm and filling, so no one feels left out."

Mokko tilted his head. "Any ideas?"

"I was thinking… savory egg custard bowls. Silky, light, and comforting. You can make them with mushrooms and vegetables instead of meat."

Lucy bounced twice in agreement, ribbon wagging like a puppy's tail.

Marron laughed softly and reached for her notebook, already scribbling down possibilities: mushroom custard, spinach custard, maybe even one with corn for sweetness. The thought of testing them for dinner made her stomach rumble.

She glanced again at the box of gold, still not quite believing it was hers.

"For now, though…" she said, pushing herself up and tying on her apron, "I think we've earned something nice for dinner. You guys okay with testing some of the savory custard bowls tonight?"

"Music to my ears," Mokko rumbled, tail swishing.

Together, the three of them began prepping their private meal, the quiet of the inn wrapping around them like a blanket. Outside, Whetvale buzzed with late-night voices and laughter—but here, in this kitchen, Marron felt only warmth.

For the first time in a long while, tomorrow's worries could wait.

+

Marron tied her apron once more, her earlier exhaustion slipping into something softer—calm, almost meditative. She gathered the eggs from the inn's courtesy basket, cracked them into a wide ceramic bowl, and whisked until the yolks and whites melted into pale gold. She added dashi stock she'd made earlier, salt, and a drizzle of soy, whisking gently so the mixture stayed airy.

"Careful with the heat," she murmured, pouring the mixture into small clay bowls set inside a steaming pot. "If it's too hot, it'll curdle instead of setting smooth."

Mokko leaned over, watching curiously. "So it's like a very soft egg?"

"Think of it like a pudding," Marron explained. "Only savory instead of sweet."

The scent of umami rose with the steam as she slipped in sliced mushrooms, a handful of scallions, and a bit of shredded carrot for color. While it cooked, she toasted slices of bread on the inn's griddle, brushing them with a touch of butter.

When the custards were ready, their surfaces jiggling like silk, Marron spooned some onto the toast. The mushrooms nestled against the creamy custard, steam curling upward, while a sprinkle of sesame seeds finished the dish.

"Alright," Marron said, plating them, "our test: mushroom custard toast."