Casual Heroing

Chapter 242: Food

Chapter 242: Food

I look at the bowl of soup in front of me and I realize something.

Its been six months since I arrived among half-giants. We won a crucial battle, conquered a city and the mine connected to it. I rooted many [Spies] by having the entire population interrogated for simple things, had the average level of half-giants shoot up by six level, gave back life to a steel industry and even reinstated some trading deals now that we control the supply of iron from the massive reserve under our asses

But I have not taken one look at the food Ive been eating.

Six months.

I could probably recite almost every single monarch in existence in this world, every single political faction, all the info about levels, classes, and culture. I have been studying relentlessly, even checking which natural resources are in abundance or scarce where and how to profit from them. I have gotten two letters from Lady Goldith, the woman who slaughtered the enemy army of Ahalis, who had Sirens dispatch a world-wide notice about re-enforcing the ban on trade toward Kome. Not that there was much to start with, but this woman has

Im losing the thread of my thoughts once again.

What I have never paid attention to is what Ive been eating. I have been eating without even looking at what enters my stomach. Just now, that something spicy has made its way in front of me, I look at the meaty soup in front of me. I dont really know the name, neither what its supposed to be. I pass a hand through my hair, noting how oily they feel. Another part of me Ive completely forgotten to take care of.

Cordius, I slam a hand on the table to make him jump straight. Its one of the few entertainments I have. Making fun of the half-giant make everything livelier.

Riziliuss ears, Cassandre, he stutters, looking up from some reports. What, now?New novel chapters are published on

One would think a [General] would have better manners, I shoot back.

He looks straight at me, deadpanned, waiting.

Do we have a kitchen in this place? I look around the office we have in a building custom-made to house the council that has taken over the half-giants new city. No [Mayor] this time, not ever as a puppet for show.

Yes, why?

Lets take a break, I say, getting up. I want to make some food.

Is this another surprise quiz? I told that I have been studying, but I dont want to waste another three hours in a room with a bunch of papers to test

Its not a surprise quiz. Come on, lets go.

The grumbling half-giant [General] gets up and follows me outside, toward the market.

Surprisingly, pig farming is not a priority of half-giants. Why that is goes beyond me. Even though theres a substantial amount of meat in their diet, it comes mostly from beef and poultry. Cows seems to be more popular than any other animal, though. And some cows, as you can imagine, are even magical. Not the ones that are owned in Leggiadra.

But what this means is that no cold cuts are present here, nor popular. No salami, no ham. They exist, Cordius told me. But not anywhere close. Its almost an exotic food, if you want to believe them.

That is, obviously, a huge problem when you get certain cravings. For all the women in my generation learned how to hate bread and flour-based products, that was never the case for me. Neither me nor the abundant Nadine had ever any complaint about a carb-rich diet. In particular, having a baker as a father, it was a given that we would mostly eat what didnt sell at the end of the day. In a way, I always hoped that the day had not been good, so that we could eat the best bread, or the mini pizzas that he made.

Not too shabby, I reply, savoring the foreign expression.

Now, listen, do you want to go out and have dinner with me to celebrate? he asks with a big wide smile.

Im sorry, Im not sure I got that, I say, confused by how fast he speaks.

Oh, dont worry. Not even the Chefs speak good English here! Anyway. You. Me. Dinner. Date. How about that?

How about that?

Oh, no, no, you are too young, I say in my heavy French accent.

Too young? Whats the matter with you? How old are you, eighteen? Im seventeen. Isnt that about right? What, afraid they are going to arrest you? Dont worry, Im not a rat. And besides, whats so wrong with some dinner, huh?

I concentrate on his words and I believe I got everything this time around.

Im sorry, cher, Im busy. Tomorrow Im going back to France.

Holy macaroni, are you French? Oh, I hear the accent now. How old are you?

Bye, bye! I tell him, turning away from him.

Goddamn Frenchie

I dont remember his name, which is highly unusual for me. But still, it was a funny memory. And the small chocolate compositions he made were truly otherworldy

I sigh, wondering what would have happened in a different life. But that doesnt matter. In this one, Im in a different business. As I was saying, Im ready for anything, even for the half-giants to turn treacherous and vile as the ones who oppressed them so far.

I look at Cordius and wonder if it would be hard to snap his neck, and all the others who would come after.

Not too hard.

Its never too hard.

I look at the dough under my hands and I realize that my baking skills have gone down the drain.

The dough has clumps.

Putain.