Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 63 (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 63

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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Food was the beginning of Ylstu’s growth, and I had no intention of letting that stop being the case.

Kindred magics might limit things in the cities, but with the imminent rise of the peasantry’s wealth, and with them mostly scattered and far away from the reach of those who could just magic food out of thin air… it was a good time to invest in the culinary industry.

Bento boxes filled with fried, battered chicken that travelled well attracted the merchants, and then there were the ration bars I planned to feed troops with for extended stays in the Empire. Both were well suited towards the wagon caravans that merchants used, and could easily be transported and upscaled to travel in shipping containers in pallets. The fish from the river was usually smoked, but there were less Kindred than expected willing to eat fish, so I scrapped that particular venture and started selling fishing licenses.

However, with Ylstu’s herds of cattle, sheep, and pigs growing large enough, I had more options.

Pigs were surprisingly very popular with the Kindred. They were bred to be large, monstrous things that were nearly half the size of cows. The Kindred smoked, salted, and cured them to eat alone or add to communal stews. The fact that they ate food scraps with glee made it so that there was a few pig styes in every village.

So, it was easy enough to turn the pigs into hams, sausages, and bacon, since there were one or two who came in from abroad who knew how things worked. Giving them access to spices by the bucketful, along with plenty of salt, and the same to their competitors made it so that I had a lively handful of curers and smokers who wanted to prove themselves the very best.

Since there was plenty of fresh meet coming in, I focused Ylstu’s acquisitions in cattle in dairy the business, and with the help of elbow grease and ice produced by magic, fresh milk, heavy cream, butter, and ice cream entered Ylstu’s market. The first three didn’t get much attention, since diary was a known luxury and just another thing that Ylstu’s regular folk could have, but the ice cream got all the merchants begging me to set aside some to be sold abroad, because supplies practically vanished every time, they entered shelves.

It was more trouble than it was worth to keep the ice cream method a secret, so I sold blueprints and methods, and set up an industry to corner the market with industrial scale churners while everyone else was playing around with it.

While you were playing at being a chef, I was making it accessible to everyone to make tons of money!

If you want to compete with me, get ludicrous amounts of money and invest in infrastructure… and cry when I just scale mine up more for a cheaper price and bury you!

Where was I going with this train of thought again?

Oh, right.

I was trying to focus on food, so that I wouldn’t be distracted by Kurama.

…

Kurama's housewife mode was beyond anything I could mentally prepare myself for. Absolute, wanton sluttery was what I mentally ready for after the wedding. Sure, I stood my ground, kissed the hell out of her, and took control… but I expected a tug of war between my belt and her hands a few weeks in.

Instead what I got what something that tested my very understanding of the Hentai genre.

“Here you go, Hachiman! I hope you like it!” Kurama placed a plate before me. The Hentai aspects were all present. She was wearing an apron, a wedding ring, and nothing else. I received more than an eyeful as she bent more than necessary in order to put my dinner down, and none of her tails were in sight as she sashayed to sit across from me. “This was quite the challenge.”

However, countering and blasting past the wanton sex appeal being shoved in my face, was the undeniable results of effort, determination, and hard work.

Curry with rice and pork Katsu.

That was what was in front of me right now, steaming and making my mouth water just looking at it, with a Kurama beaming at me to try it.

I already knew how it would taste before I took my first bite, but no amount of preparation could’ve prepared me for the impact the dish had.

The rice was fluffy and fragrant, toothy and sweet, while carrying the heady, spicy, and lightly woody taste of curry. The potatoes were creamy and fluffy, while the carrots had a bite, snap, and sweetness. Then, of course, there was the Pork Katsu. The moment I broke through the golden outer shell a river fell forth, and the room was filled with the scent of perfectly cooked pork.

When I took a bite of the pork, I had a sudden complaint, until the door the kitchen opened and one of the Kunoichi handed Kurama a small bowl.

“Oh, thank you!  How foolish of me to forget this!” The Katsu sauce, somehow replicated in an western fantasy hentai, was placed in front of me… and my body moved towards it without any prompting.

Soon enough I could barely stop myself from shoveling food down my mouth. Spicy, earthy, and woodsy with perfect, juicy, and crunchy pork with fragrant rice. Then, a mouthful of sweet, savory, and sour pork atop a bed of almost-sweet rice, a crunch of crust with every other bite.

There were no thoughts to be had, besides those focused on the food before me, and before I knew it… my plate was empty, even while Kurama barely touched her own and was focused on watching me eat.

Her gaze was ardent and fulfilled, as though she wanted nothing else in the world, simply because I’d happily gorged myself on her food.

“So… do you like it, Hachiman?” Kurama did the thing. The thing where a woman puts her hands together happily, smiles, and tilts her head. It was a flagrant, undeniable request for praise.

One that I couldn’t deny.

“Yeah. I do. You’ve outdone yourself, Kurama.” It would be a lie to say otherwise. Kurama was accomplishing these feats on her own, through repeated testing and effort. Was I the sort of person to verify that my wife wasn’t hiring chefs to replicate dishes and pass them off as her own? Yes, I was. However, that private investigation only resulted in my recruited individua (read: Ur) telling me off, so I paid the price for it in the end. “Thank you for the meal.”

A happy sigh left Kurama, and then she tucked into food.

One of the Kunoichi wearing only the front part of a maid outfit walked forward and handed me the recipe.

Not only was Kurama cooking meals I could barely describe from memory, but she was also doing it with ingredients available to Ylstu.

From the current Pork Katsu, to sandwiches, and even Ramen, Kurama was unleashing a talent that an heiress would’ve never found while in power. Upon being introduced to the concept of dates, and being sent all the way out to the boonies to Ylstu though, a fearsome innovator in the culinary arts was coming into existence. If this was a cooking Manga, there’d be illustrations of half-naked girls climbing to the very top of the food world through sheer grit and dedication. Maybe even montages concerning the technique and theory behind figuring out food from other worlds.

And, of course, the person profiting from it: me.

Kurama’s recipes and efforts were surging through Ylstu and attracting attention from abroad. While food can be made by magic, those who created it needed to taste it, and the higher number of ingredients and preparation involved made the cost higher. Since a well-done dish can be made with just a few ingredients and techniques, that meant the Kindred weren’t short of any fantastic dishes to serve during parties, but there’s still plenty of recipes that needed lots of ingredients, different cooking techniques, and could be altered upon to create new dishes.

Kurama’s recipes were being handed and spread out across Ylstu to prospective chefs. They were testing, working, and finding ways to innovate, instead of making themselves content with producing cheap food that could contend with that produced by magic through volume. The new restaurants won’t be able to compete when those who can produce food start refining their technique and focusing on flavor, but Ylstu has always been geared for quantity, and it’ll always be capable of taking advantage of vast sums of food.

Kurama was more than capable of pointing this fact out, and increasing her standing in Ylstu, but that hasn’t happened and wasn’t likely to happen.

Source: me.

Because I can plainly see that my wife was the sort who just saw food as fuel, and wouldn’t normally care for it at all, despite her talent and ability.

That made things worse, because she was spending hours of her every week on making food I could barely describe, despite not caring for it at all.

Tch.

No matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept going back to Kurama doing everything right.

She wasn’t trying to get into my pants.

She was respecting my rules and boundaries.

She was going out of her way to be nice to me in particular.

And, I couldn’t deny the fact that I liked what she was doing, because even if I’m fucked in the head, I’m still a human being, dammit.

I had to give something in return, so I didn’t find myself just saying yes to her on reflex for everything that she was doing.

Unfortunately, I hated the only way to meet her halfway, because it brought up way too many bad memories.

“So, what do you want to learn about today?” A dinner and a study date. That was all it was, yet it took a lot out of me every week. I ate food that reminded me of Japan more than I thought possible, and then I talked about things that I learned a lifetime ago. Isekai protagonists normally espoused the glories of modern life, even if they were NEETs who couldn’t look both ways before crossing the streets, but just thinking about… Chiba… was difficult. “Looks like we’ve got plenty of time to talk.”

Kurama smiled at my words, and with a clap of her hands the table was cleared. Her plate was still half full, with Kunoichi fretting over it, while my bowl was empty.

The Kunoichi were fretting over the utensils in mine, but no amount of sluttery was going to break through the trepidation and hesitation that I was already feeling.

It was better than the first time, I nearly puked then, and barely managed to hold on.

This time it was “just” my stomach rolling over while my heart thundered like a stampede.

“Hmmm, I would like to know more about “convenience stores.” I see that you are trying to work on replicating them, and I would like to help.” A Kunoichi handed Kurama a notebook, a pencil, and a ruler. In a few moments she had a grid to practice her Kanji, Hiragana, and Katanka on. She was learning quickly, the Kunoichi too, and I was sure that soon enough the house was going be speaking Japanese. I’d thought a long time ago it was convenient everyone spoke Japanese, until I found out that translation was built into the summoning system. Interdimensional enslavers liked being able to tell their new slaves what to do. “I believe that if we can build a “canner” we can spread the idea across Kindred lands with “franchises” with our “logistics.””

I didn’t bother hiding my relief at Kurama’s decision.

Talking about Japan was easier when I could put it in the context of Ylstu.

The fact that Kurama noticed this should’ve worried me, but after considering the time we’ve spent together, and the fact that she was actually tied down to Ylstu, I was able to put the worry aside.

She could read me all she wanted, if it meant me being more comfortable while meeting her halfway.

…

I left my bath and entered my room.

A’Bel lay on my bed wearing only one of my jackets, which covered nothing due to her size and shape.

For a second, I applauded myself for my decision to put clothes on right after bathing.

Because everyone knows that Demons can be stopped by a pair of pajamas.

I took a breath, and ignored my privacy being broken, and waited for A’Bel to explain herself before I kicked her out and told her to deliver gifts to Kurama’s relatives.

Starting with her ancestor slutting it up on the otherside of the world.

“Oh, my dear master, can’t you be a little less cruel? You’ve broken my heart already. Can you not allow me to sleep beside you for a single night?” A’Bel mewled and smiled. She feigned innocence by making sure none of her fangs showed. However, due to the fact she was a magical, muscled titan with tits, any attempt of her to act cute and innocent failed. So, it was easy for me to stand my ground, and think wonderful thoughts like forcing her to swim across an entire ocean.

“Fifty words or less in thirty seconds, before I go through with my plan, A’Bel.” I walked to my dresser and looked over all my personal equipment. Roseanne started sending along a trinket or two to keep me safe from harm, and Kurama’s family had a few things lying around that Onimusha used before they died, grew tits, and fell in love with their allies who survived. Most of it was just protections against the elements, but I had two rings that were special. One diverted speeding projectiles, and other warned me of poison. Both were pretty essential since I had lot of enemies nowadays. “Starting. Right. Now.”

I thought A’Bel would just laugh and lead, but instead she stood up discarded my coat, walked up behind me… and held me in her embrace after calling upon her clothes to cover her.

“You’ve done well. You’ve struggled. You’ve survived. You are now beginning to thrive.” A’Bel whispered into my ear, and even though I wanted to escape her, I couldn’t. Not because of her strength. Her hold on me was weak, soft, and… warm. Despite everything I managed to overcome, I suddenly felt too small and fragile in the Demon’s arms. “Your legend will echo throughout the ages. Your existence shall be used to weight and judge others… and I shall support you throughout it all.”

She pulled away from me.

I felt relief, and another emotion I’ll never admit to, when she did.

The Demon smiled at me, before placing a kiss on my cheek, and uttered her last words for me while pulling away to leave.

“Open your heart, my dear Hachiman, and find your true anger and hate for the Empire… once they threaten those you allow in.”