Chapter 18 : Adventure Level 10 (1)

“You just said you knew magic, but when I ask you to teach me, you say you don’t know. What does that mean? Do you know it or not?”
―I know magic, but I don’t know it.

Hmm. What was that supposed to mean?

“So, you know of magic’s existence, but you don’t know how to use it, is that right?”
The Mage’s Encyclopedia fluttered a page.
―Is that so? I’m not sure.

Uh…… Okay then.
I gave up on the conversation and ate my hamburger.
I didn’t know if this Mage’s Encyclopedia was messing with me or just genuinely stupid, but I knew it was useless right now.
However, considering its provocative evaluation when I showed it the Fireball, wasn’t it more likely that it was messing with me?

I feel like I made a mistake changing jobs.
The skills were all somehow subpar.
I should have just gone with Necromancer.
Ah, right, I was semi-forced into this job change.

Was the System that gave me useless skills like Mage’s Encyclopedia and Magic Record sane?
Or was this some elaborate scheme to hinder me? Hmm.
Maybe it’s because I’m hungry, but my thoughts are going in strange directions.
Let’s stop these pointless thoughts that won’t even recoup the cost.
I should just keep eating what I was eating.

While I ate my hamburger, Do Yugeon asked the Mage’s Encyclopedia about his own skills, confirming that they matched what he had experienced.
Somehow, there was little difference in knowledge before and after using the Mage’s Encyclopedia.
It answered skill-related questions well, but since you could experience skills by using them, wasn’t asking the Mage’s Encyclopedia about skills also unnecessary?

―Master, do you have any more questions? Feel free to ask anything.
“Is the title ‘Master’?”
―Do you dislike it?
“The title doesn’t matter. How about showing an attitude befitting the title?”
―Is that so? I don’t know what a befitting attitude is.

Or so it said.
“I know. Deactivate Mage’s Encyclopedia for the Apprentice Mage.”
―Wha—?!

[Mage’s Encyclopedia for the Apprentice Mage ― OFF]

With a final shriek, the Mage’s Encyclopedia fell.
I poked the spellbook a few times, but there was no reaction.
Was it dead?

“Wow…… Were you offended?”
“Not really. More importantly, are you done eating?”
Do Yugeon held up the french fry bag.
A few were left.
“You definitely were offended. I knew it when you started eating your hamburger silently.”
He continued.
“Poor Mage’s Encyclopedia. Thanks to getting the wrong master, it’s left deactivated, trembling in loneliness. If I had a hidden job, I would have treated it well.”
“You’re overly empathetic. It’s probably just like a turned-off computer.”
“Is there a guarantee of that?”
“Just hurry up and eat.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll eat the leftover fries.”
“Do as you please.”

I handed him the leftover fries and waited for him to finish, opening the spellbook to write about the job skills.
Overall Assessment: A collaboration between a useless skill replaceable by memory and an idiot illegally occupying someone else’s research notes.

After finishing the meal, we Logged out, and I threw away the trash.
We could have Logged out and parted ways here, but since I had also hit level 10, we decided to try hunting an Orc.

I flew leisurely above the dirt path cutting through the forest.
Do Yugeon walked beside me, scanning the woods, then asked, “Where’s the Orc?”
“Walk a little further, and you should be able to see it soon. Huh?”
An Orc that had been wandering quite far ahead in the forest suddenly changed direction and came straight out onto the dirt path.
What the.

It was about 2 meters tall. It wore no shirt, but its muscular build left no feeling of emptiness.
Just as I’d heard online and at the offline meeting, were both its hands really bare fists with no weapons?
Can’t Orcs look a little weaker?

“The Orc noticed us faster than Do Yugeon did.”
“Seems like it.”

The Orc bent down and picked up a boulder.
It was too large to wrap one arm around.
What was this?
The distance was several tens of meters; it wouldn’t try throwing a rock from this far, would it?
Was this a pre-battle ritual?
The Orc took a stance and threw the boulder.
Whoa!
I flew sideways slightly to dodge.
The boulder crashed into the ground just a step away, kicking up dust.
What’s with this accuracy?
I almost died.

“I’ll get it!”
Do Yugeon shouted, but he was already running far ahead with his sword drawn.
Why ask when you’re clearly planning to fight it?

The Orc took a few steps toward the forest, then punched a tree smaller than the surrounding ones.
As the tree fell, the Orc skillfully shouldered it.
Excuse me?
The Orc swung the tree at Do Yugeon.
Do Yugeon slid under the gap beneath the tree, dodging it, then rushed forward and swung his sword.
The sword slashed its neck, and golden powder scattered.

But that was all.
Whether its skin was tough or there was some fantasy element involved, the Orc, with only a wound on its neck, dropped the tree and slammed down its fist.
The sword that blocked the fist snapped in half.
Do Yugeon, staggering from the impact, shouted, “Single Strike Enhancement!”
He forced himself into a run, spun his body, and slashed. The broken half of the sword cut off the Orc’s head.
The fractured blade gleamed amidst the golden powder.

How brutal.
Do Yugeon fell toward the dead Orc, misstepped on the fallen tree, and tumbled over.
“Hwaak!”
Everything was good, but the finish was so……

I approached him.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay! More importantly, how was that just now? Wasn’t it totally cool? The agility to overcome the crisis and the instantaneous judgment to seize the opportunity! Kya!”
Saying things like that yourself makes even existing coolness evaporate.
I seriously debated whether to tell him objectively or not.
Though forgetting cringe history unknowingly was perhaps more typical of adolescence.

“If I had to say, rather than cool, wasn’t it more on the absurdly cute side?”
I checked him for any injuries.
As expected, there was a cut on his cheek, bleeding.
It looked like a slash wound, probably grazed by debris when the sword broke.
I arranged my mana and used Healing Magic.
The cut healed and disappeared.
Good, good.
This is why I learned Healing Magic.
So satisfying.

I took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his cheek.
More accurately, I tried to wipe it, but he dodged his cheek away.
“What, why are you dodging?”
“Huh? Ah, I was going to wipe it myself.”
Do Yugeon snatched the handkerchief and wiped his cheek himself.
He continued speaking as he did.
“A bookworm lacking stamina would find it hard to even lift her arm, right? Especially with the big height difference. 16cm. Hahaha.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”

He finished wiping the blood and handed the handkerchief back.
I circled around him, checking again for any more injuries.
“You’re not hurt anywhere else, right?”
“Probably not. Anyway, we can just Log out, so there’s no need to heal further, right?”
“That’s true, but it’s good to practice Healing Magic. For the future too. Ah, speaking of which, wasn’t that hunt just now too dangerous? You practically risked your life. Even broke your sword.”

He picked up the sword that had clattered away when he fell.
It was in two pieces.
If a sword breaks, I could get him one from someone I know, but Do Yugeon didn’t like that sort of thing, so the only spare available immediately was mine.
Unless he used a different type of sword he wasn’t used to.
“The broken sword is a big blow, though.”
He gave an awkward laugh and continued.
“So, from next time, I plan to be a bit more cautious with my combat style.”
“Really? That’s a relief then.”
It felt like he had made the same vow several times before, but I let it slide.
He was a teenager, after all.

What’s the first step to packing a lunchbox?
Naturally, it’s reading.
Read cookbooks, acquire theory, understand the context, and reduce trial and error.
The important thing isn’t perfect mastery, but reducing trial and error.
However, a minor problem arose.
I anticipated this before reading the cookbooks, but actually reading them was boring.
Why did I need to know that the brown substance on grilled meat wasn’t caramel?
Well, knowing it helps understand the chemical reaction and grill meat deliciously, but it just didn’t interest me.
Honestly, if I wanted to eat deliciously at home, I could just hire a chef.
Or eating out was just tastier.

In fact, if it had been interesting, I would have read them long ago in my past life or current life and wouldn’t have needed to look for cookbooks now.
Mom recommended them, saying they were fun and useful, so they seemed like good books for someone whose hobby was cooking, but they were boring.
“Mom. These are boring.”
“Really? Then what should we do?”
After some thought, Mom brought me cookbooks with recipes instead of theory.
Wouldn’t it have been fine to give me these from the start?

After reading recipes and cross-referencing for a few days, I decided to try making rolled omelets (gyeranmari), the staple of lunchboxes.
I went to the kitchen and took out carrots and green onions.
Around the time I took out the eggs, Mom came into the kitchen.
“What’s our daughter doing?”
“I’m going to make a rolled omelet.”
“Oho. Rolled omelet? Our daughter?”
Mom clutched her stomach and laughed.
Why did she keep laughing like this lately?
Despite appearances, I used to cook for myself when living alone in my past life.
Though grocery shopping and dishwashing were annoying, leading me to rely more on delivery or eating out, but still.

I ignored Mom and placed the prepared carrot on the cutting board.
The plan was to julienne it first, then dice it finely.
Large pieces of carrot and green onion in a rolled omelet look nice, but smaller pieces taste better when eaten.
If they’re too big, the ingredients and egg become separate entities.
The cart pulls the horse.
I started chopping the carrot.
My knife skills were clumsy and slow, as if my past life experience had been reset, but that was fine.
Everyone starts like this.

However, having Mom watch from the side made even obvious facts feel embarrassing.
I stopped the knife.
“Mom. Can you please leave the kitchen?”
“Mom’s just worried our daughter might cut her hand.”
Yet the corners of her mouth were turned up.

Ignoring Mom once again, I started julienning the carrot.
About halfway through, fatigue washed over me.
I still had to chop and dice this, then chop the green onions, when would I do all that, and when would I beat the eggs, and when would I actually make the omelet?
Something occurred to me, and I stopped the knife.
Was there really a need to chop with a knife?
The cookbooks were full of pictures of dicing with knives, but reading wasn’t about blindly following the book’s content.

Reading is understanding the essence.
Grasping the logic of the content, observing the author’s thought habits beyond the logic, and discerning the essence.
What’s important isn’t the content, but the essence the author used in writing.
The essence of dicing carrots isn’t chopping with a knife, but cutting the carrots into bite-sized pieces.
A knife wasn’t necessary for that result.

Leaving the knife, I searched the kitchen and pulled out a blender.
As I pulled it halfway out, Mom laughed beside me.
What was it?
Was using a blender wrong?
I hesitated awkwardly, glancing at her, but Mom waved her hand.
“No, no. The blender is fine. Yes, it’s fine.”
“I’m not planning to make carrot puree, just blend it moderately.”
Mom nodded.
It felt suspicious, but since she approved, let’s use the blender.

I roughly chopped the carrots, put them in the blender, and blended them little by little.
I checked the status intermittently, careful not to over-blend.
After finishing the carrots, I roughly chopped the green onions.
Honestly, I wasn’t inexperienced enough to need trial and error for chopping green onions.
I beat the eggs in a bowl, seasoned with sugar and salt, then mixed in the carrots and green onions.
Good. Almost done now.

I poured the egg mixture into a square pan, rolled it, oiled the pan, and repeated the process of pouring more egg mixture.
Now, just flip it and cook until golden brown…… Done.
I placed the rolled omelet on the cutting board and waited for it to cool.
Once reasonably cool, just slice and taste, then it’s finished.

“I’m so proud you actually completed a rolled omelet.”
Mom hugged me from behind.
“Mom, what do you take me for?”
The excessive praise made me feel embarrassed.
What was the big deal about a rolled omelet?
“Hmm. A grumpy but cute young lady?”
Was that evaluation good or bad?

While I was spacing out, the video intercom rang.
A guest arrived.
Mom left the kitchen, and shortly after, the front door opened.
Who could it be?
“Hi. I’m here!”
It was Yu Mina.

“What brings you here without plans?”
“You say that every time. Oh. Rolled omelet. Is it resting?”
“Not exactly resting, but roughly, yes.”
“Rolled omelets are delicious. Since your mom is a good cook, it must be even tastier.”
“I made it.”
Yu Mina, who had been looking at the omelet, shifted her gaze to me.
“Our dear lady knows how to cook too?”
She looked somewhat culture-shocked.

“Seriously, what kind of image do I have?”
I didn’t understand why Mom or she acted this way.
Yu Mina smiled.
“I’m surprised in a good way.”
She didn’t seem to like me much, so I didn’t really trust her.

The rolled omelet seemed cool enough, so I picked up the knife and slowly sliced it.
“I don’t usually cook. But I’ve been eating a lot of delivery food lately, so I thought I’d try making a lunchbox this time. Thinking about it, Do Yugeon usually eats delivery food too, so maybe it’s good to feed him a lunchbox at least during Login.”
“Hmm…… I see.”

Observing the cut side of the finished rolled omelet, I suddenly realized.
The carrots weren’t uniform in shape, making it look unappetizing.
Now I understood why Mom laughed when I took out the blender but still said it was okay to use.
I picked up a piece of omelet and put it in Yu Mina’s mouth.
“How is it?”
“It’s delicious.”
Did it turn out well on the first try? Maybe I actually have a talent for cooking.
I ate a piece of the omelet myself.

Hmm……
The fluffy texture wasn’t great, the seasoning was subtly off, and it was an ambiguous taste—not good enough to be called delicious, but too much to call it bad.
“You think this is delicious?”
“Is it bad?”
If I had to say, yes, it was bad.

“It’s bad.”
“Really?”
Yu Mina took another piece, tilted her head, and continued.
“Maybe it is.”

Regrettably, the rolled omelet made with effort was a failure.
It’s always like this the first time, but I completely lost motivation.
“Should I give up on making lunchboxes myself and order from a professional catering service?”
“Isn’t that just delivery food?”
“That’s true. Ah, right. It’s better to just leave it to the chef.”

I hadn’t considered the chef because I thought Do Yugeon might feel burdened, but I should ask them to make it in the style of a reasonably priced catering lunchbox.
That way, a healthy, low-sodium lunchbox would be made.
I threw away the tasteless rolled omelet and left the kitchen.

“I’m going to practice magic now—what about you?”
Seeing the Orc throw that boulder made me feel the need for defensive magic.
I planned to try making some this time.
“I’ll watch.”
“Suit yourself.”