The true nature of this pungent smell lies in liquefied sulfur dioxide—one of the simplest, most common, and irritating sulfur oxides. It is a major atmospheric pollutant, often emitted during volcanic eruptions and produced in numerous industrial processes. In essence, it is a colorless, toxic gas that dissolves easily in water.
In simpler terms, this is not something that belongs in a kitchen at all.
However, in the system, as long as you exchange the corresponding points, almost anything becomes possible, including acquiring this chemical.
This time, the dose was significant. Alongside the liquefied sulfur dioxide, Shiraki had also prepared a considerable amount of the gaseous form, which he had stored in a jar.
Naturally, the moment Shiraki entered the kitchen, he donned a stealth version of a gas mask. While others might perceive the pungent smell as a refreshing or unique aroma, Shiraki couldn't take that risk. The memory of almost ending up in the hospital last time was still fresh in his mind. This time, his work involved more than simple eggs and rice; it was essentially biological and chemical warfare. One wrong move could spell disaster.
Because of the gas mask, Shiraki couldn't smell a thing. Erina, however, standing in the kitchen with Hisako, experienced something entirely different. As Shiraki brought out more peculiar items and opened strange jars, an indescribable aroma began to fill the room.
It was unlike any familiar ingredient or spice. Even Erina, with her God Tongue accustomed to all sorts of delicacies, was bewildered by this strange fragrance. It was a subtle yet pervasive aroma, both elusive and omnipresent. It seemed to blend seamlessly with the oxygen in the air.
What was even more astonishing was its effect. The moment Erina inhaled the faint aroma, her breathing became unusually smooth, her chest felt open, and her body seemed lighter than ever before.
"How... how is this even possible?"
Hisako Arato felt it too. The soft, permeating aroma not only filled the air but also seemed to impart a soothing, weightless sensation to the body, as if gravity itself had diminished.
Hisako, experienced in medicinal cooking, understood that even the aroma of such dishes rarely had any tangible effect on the human body. Yet the reality before her eyes was undeniable. The smell alone seemed to condition the body—and quickly, at that! It wasn't mere relaxation or subtle improvement. This felt akin to a significant boost in immune function or even the effects of taking special medication.
"This... this can't be real!"
Hisako subconsciously stepped back. Shiraki's methods—especially after introducing colorful seasonings and the mysterious gas—were completely beyond her comprehension. The dish he was preparing didn't resemble any traditional recipe. It wasn't a decorative dish or a cold platter. His work, blending bizarre ingredients with unknown substances, was an enigma. Hisako was completely out of her depth.
Shiraki, meanwhile, continued his work undeterred. After infusing his dish with sulfur dioxide, he noticed signs of corrosion. To ensure the dish's presentation remained intact for two hours, he added paint to preserve its vivid color. A creative touch, but Shiraki wasn't done. He recalled the gurgling streams near forest huts and decided to enhance the effect by using blue and white paint. He also found some rotten eggs in the system's storage space and decided their liquid contents were fitting.
With precision, Shiraki retrieved the eggs, smashed them, and poured the foul-smelling yolks into the dish, now adorned with paint. Finally, he sprayed water vapor around the dish to combine the sulfur dioxide with the moisture, forming a sulfuric acid mist that intensified the dish's "purification" properties—or perhaps its toxicity.
Thus, a bonsai-themed dish made of acrylic paint, sulfur dioxide, rotten eggs, and fresh ingredients was complete.
While culinary artists have crafted dishes inspired by bonsai before, Shiraki's approach was unprecedented—even daring. Not even chemists would attempt to use such materials for food. Without his careful operation and protective measures—including a gas mask and full-body gas suit—Shiraki himself wouldn't have dared to undertake this deadly experiment.
Oddly enough, the two potted plants near the kitchen door, exposed to the toxic fumes, appeared greener and more vibrant than before, as though nourished by sunlight and rain. Their transformation was visible to the naked eye.
As time passed, the aroma's effects on Erina and Hisako grew stronger. At first, they felt energized, as if their bodies were functioning more efficiently. Breathing became easier, their minds clearer. Concepts they previously struggled to grasp suddenly made sense. The sensation intensified as Shiraki sprayed water vapor, leaving them in awe of the seemingly magical properties of the dish.
Both were brimming with curiosity.
What kind of dish was this?!
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