Ultimate Level 1

Chapter 92

“Now Bob, don’t make me regret this,” Tanila said, winking.

“I… I won’t,” Bob replied, words seemingly harder to say than he had expected. “I… I don’t know how to repay you.”

He watched as the woman Max loved smiled, her eyes watering slightly as she sniffed. “You don’t have to repay me. You’ve kept the man I love alive, and you made sure he got back home safely to me. Beyond that and so much more, you helped bring Miranna back to me. For those things I owe you and am glad that he thought of this.”

Bob bowed and then moved toward the door that led to the city.

You’re certain about this.

I am. Activate the wall. I’ll practice meditating… Sog says I should do it more, but we both know I don’t usually listen to demons for advice on centering oneself.

Bob chuckled and then laughed harder, hearing the sound coming from his voice.

It sounds so… different… there’s no malice or evil in it. And you don’t need to have any. Now, go have some fun and let me know when you’re ready for me.

Bob felt Max disconnect himself from what was happening around his body. There had been times when Bob had forced Max out in order to control him and survive. Those moments had been rare because his host didn’t want to lose control

Max never wanted to be the one who wasn’t in charge. Only when the lives of those that he loved were in danger was he willing to let Bob free.

It felt weird. For the first time that he could recall, Bob felt like a person.

He took on the shape of a half-elf man. Simple blond hair, blue eyes and clothes that wouldn’t stand out. The muted brown pants and his white shirt were nothing out of the ordinary and with a single thought, Bob appeared in an alley near the center marketplace of Sunreach.

Noise came as he appeared. Laughter, haggling, kids, animals, it all flooded down the stone alley he stood in. At the exit, people passed by, none bothering to glance to where he stood. The capital was safe, and crime was virtually nonexistent under King Edward.

Unable to help himself, Bob smiled. He moved into the street and turned his attention toward a few food carts.

Dozens of them were lined up for the weekend, each one calling out, offering the greatest food anyone would ever taste. A few had lines that stretched twenty deep while others only had a couple of people in them.

Part of him wanted to get into the lines which were longer and yet inside his chest there was a tug toward the shorter ones.

This is what Max feels… compassion.

He moved to one where a couple of dwarves stood in line, the two of them debating which pickaxe model was the best right now. Above them was a sign that immediately told Bob why many people weren’t in line.

Slimeskin… who comes up with these names?

Glancing at one of the busier stalls, the name Skewer of the Seven Realms had a line easily thirty people long and a smell that made Bob wonder if letting his heart guide his stomach was the right choice.

Instead, Bob watched as a demon held out two brown bags, drenched in grease to the dwarves, who paused their conversation long enough to hand over a few coins and take their soggy mess.

“How many do you want?” the yellow-skinned demon with about eight horns jutting from his skull asked.

“Can I… uh… try one first?” Bob asked.

What looked like a frown, though it was hard to really tell, appeared on the demon's face. “I don’t usually give out samples… but I guess it won’t matter. No one’s buying any it seems.”

Bob nodded slowly, watching as the demon dropped a thick chunk of skin into a vat of grease. After about twenty seconds a pair of tongs grabbed the wiggly mess and was promptly placed into a brown sack.

“First one’s free, but after that you gotta pay.”

Bob wanted to turn and run. If a life filled with trying to survive had taught him anything, it was that moments came when death might take a different form.

At least I can’t be poisoned.

He took the bag and tried to ignore the amount of grease that dripped from the paper, and forcing himself not to vomit, lifted the food to his mouth. A small bite confirmed his worst fear.

Oh my god… what would Fowl say?!

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” the demon asked.

Bob blinked, staring at a being who obviously didn’t have a clue what good food was supposed to taste like.

Struggling to decide if he should spit the gooey object in his mouth out or swallow, Bob tried to solve a life problem that suddenly seemed so difficult. Part of him wanted to summon lightning and vaporize the stand lest it serve something as horrible as this again.

The other part of him felt a tugging to try and fix the problem.

Ogre nuts… Max you’ve worn off on me.

Bob stood there, finally convinced that he was going to take one for the team but only on his terms.

With the greatest amount of grace that he could, he spat the foreign object in his mouth into the bag and stored it.

I’ll just leave that there for Max…

Ignoring the expression on the demon’s face, Bob sighed. “I’m going to tell you something and it might hurt but I’ll also offer you some help to fix it. I’ve tasted many nasty things in my life and endured stuff most wouldn’t imagine in their mouth, and that’s right up there with them.”

A few chuckles from those who were near him made Bob realize he was speaking a little louder than he had thought.

The demon’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “I know… if you’re not one of my kind, most don’t like the soft gooey middle.”

So many thoughts… Sog’s going to love that question.

Waving off the reply, Bob summoned a few pouches from Max’s storage.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Okay, we’re going to fix your problem and I’m going to help you learn how to cook for the… non-demon races.”

A pair of eyes blinked in surprised and then a toothy grin appeared. “Really?”

“Really… now what’s your name?”

“Ozuk!”

He is way too excitable.

“Alright… I’ve got some salt here and some garlic powder,” Bob said, moving around the small cart and to the prep area, which made him almost turn around immediately.

Flies were hovering around a few bags, which were leaking and the amount of grease on the cobblestone might earn a fine from a city official if they saw this.

“So… first thing… we need to clean this up,” Bob said. “A kitchen shouldn’t look like this. It should be clean, easy to work in, and have a flow to it. You, Ozuk, have a mess. One small flame could burn this cart and probably the others in a moment.”

Storing his ingredients, Bob began to move things around, summoning a large wooden barrel that he remembered Max had for some reason. With ease, he transferred the bags into the barrel and placed a lid on top of it.

“That will stop part of your fly problem. Now we’ll need somewhere to put the rest of the stuff when we’re done with it.”

Retrieving an empty chest, Bob set it on the ground, tossed the wet sacks into it, and closed the lid.

“Uh… are you like… someone important?” Ozuk asked.

Bob sighed, shaking his head and realizing he wasn’t being very inconspicuous.

“No. Just someone who knows his way around a kitchen and happens to have a few things that might help. Now, where is your knife?”

The demon pulled out a large cleaver that was attached to a leather cord and his belt. It had some sections of metal that were missing and looked like it hadn’t seen a good washing in a while as well.

Max… you owe me…

Without hesitating, Bob shook his head and summoned a small table from storage. Next came a knife and a few towels. In less than a minute, a prep area with a bowl of water, a cutting board and everything a person who wanted to try and make something edible to eat would need to work with.

“Uh… I can’t afford all this,” Ozuk stated.

“You’re fine,” Bob replied. “The person who owns that owes me and probably won’t miss any of it.”

I mean, there’s enough stuff in Max’s storage to outfit a few houses.

Without thinking, Bob stuck his finger into the heated oil, frowning.

“Hey! Don’t do that!” Ozuk cried.

“It’s not hot enough to burn anyone,” Bob replied, wiping his finger off on a towel. “How you have managed to avoid poisoning anyone yet is incredible.”

Bob looked up, Max’s sonar revealing that a crowd of onlookers was gathering to watch the commotion taking place.

Seriously? Oh well, I guess it’s a good thing. If this does as I expect, at least we’ll have some volunteers.

Bob pulled out a fire rune and injected enough mana into it to get it to the point he felt it needed to be. The heat it gave off wasn’t enough to affect his skin, and so he placed it into the small fire and waited for the oil to heat up.

“Alright, Ozuk, pay attention,” Bob said, removing the lid from the barrel and withdrawing a clump of the slimeskin. He then set it on the cutting board and after twirling the knife a few times around on his finger, saw the way he needed to cut it.

The blade sliced thin sections of skin off and Bob paused after each one, inspecting the piece he had just made. After the fourth cut, he found the desired thickness and held it between his fingers before Ozuk.

“This is how thick you need to slice them. I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to practice a bit before you get it down, but let me show you why.”

Once again, Bob stuck his finger in the grease, smiling when the residue on it bubbled.

“So you need the temperature of the oil to be about here. Watch what I do.”

Carefully, Bob dropped the sliced skin in and let it fry, retrieving it after sixteen seconds. He pulled out a perfectly crispy piece with the tongs, careful not to squeeze so hard it broke apart. Next, he moved it to a small wire rack that had a pan under it. While the oil dripped off it, he pointed at the shaker he had filled with salt and garlic powder.

“We’re going to dust this, not drown it. Everything is about texture and taste.”

With a few small shakes, Bob smiled, watching the piece of fried skin happily accept his offering of seasong. Setting the shaker down, he picked up the piece he had just made and snapped it in half.

“Here, try it.”

Together they each took a bite and Bob let out a moan as the flavors and textures filled his taste buds.

“What… how… this is amazing!” Ozuk shouted.

“Well, it’s pretty good. I can think of a few things you could add to make it better, but we’d need to make a dipping sauce,” Bob said.

“Uh… excuse me, sir. Can I try some?”

Bob turned and saw an older elf leaning through the small opening of the cart. Her hair was mostly silver and tied back and her face had more wrinkles than Bob expected an elf to have.

“Sure. Let me make a new one and you can tell us what you think,” Bob said. He turned to Ozuk and winked. “Now, watch. We’re going to make a few more and if all goes well, you’ll need to hire help.”

The demon’s jaw dropped and he turned, seeing the group gathering before his stall. “Whatever you say, I’ll do it!”

***

“I’m all out!” Ozuk shouted.

Groans came from those who had been waiting and Bob watched as a few milled about, still waiting to see if perhaps he had lied.

“Well, that was a success,” Bob said, removing the apron he had removed from storage.

“I… I don’t know how to thank you,” Ozuk said. “How much do you want from the profits?”

Shaking his head, Bob waved off the copper and silver coins the demon was holding. “I don’t need anything. Everything here, you can keep. Just promise me you won’t ever serve what you gave me again.”

“I… seriously? No money? Not a share of stuff to come?”

Chuckling, Bob nodded. “I’m good… really. Thanks for letting me help. It’s been a while since I’ve… done something that feels…”

Words seemed to fail him as he considered what had taken place over the last seven hours. No one had been killed or tortured. He hadn’t needed to threaten anyone. Ozuk had done that when a pair of dwarves had started bickering. Everything Max felt when he did something kind or helpful was there, except for the first time he could ever remember, Bob had been the one to cause it. There wasn’t a hint of rage. The ever-present hunger that always threatened to surge through any opening he might have was silent.

He saw Ozuk staring at him, apparently waiting for the finish to his sentence.

“Ahh, it doesn’t matter. Just remember to be kind to others and get some help. Preferably someone you can trust. I’ll have a letter sent to you in a few days with some other ideas on stuff you can sell with those things.”

“Because people are going to copy what I did today,” Ozuk said.

“Yup. but that means you did something well,” Bob replied. “Be safe.” Thıs text ıs hosted at NoveIＦire.net

He left the demon standing there, coins still held in his fists, and started whistling a tune. Bob made it about twenty steps before he froze, the sound of the melody he had been making pounding against his heart.

That tune… I… I remember it.

Somewhere in his mind, a tune he knew from some life… before Max had come. Unlike everything else that he remembered, this one brought him joy.

He moved into an alleyway and activated stealth, slumping to the ground as tears fell down his cheeks.

The song brought joy and yet unlocked a sadness he had never realized he had. Somewhere, in the System, were memories he couldn’t recall. Memories that felt like they were worth having. Even worse was that he wanted them now more than ever.

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