The caravan reached Lysmar just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long golden shadows over the towering city walls. Unlike the quaint village of Velin, Lysmar pulsed with energy—its streets filled with merchants, travelers, and traders eager to strike deals. The Amber District, the city's bustling marketplace, stretched endlessly before Kaito, a labyrinth of stalls, open kitchens, and exotic goods.
The scent of sizzling meats, roasted nuts, and pungent spices filled the air. It was a sensory overload, and Kaito felt an unmistakable rush of excitement.
"This place is insane," he muttered.
Sylvia, walking beside him, smirked. "Overwhelmed?"
"No," Kaito said, his fingers tightening around the straps of his backpack. "I'm ready."
The caravan leader, Harken, introduced Kaito to Mira, a well-respected food vendor in the Amber District. She was a middle-aged woman with piercing eyes, her apron dusted with flour and oil stains from years of working in the market.
"You want to set up a stall?" Mira asked, sizing Kaito up. "You got coin?"
Kaito pulled out the twelve crowns he had earned, but Mira barely glanced at them. "That might get you two days in a bad spot. You want a real space, you need more than that."
Sylvia stepped forward. "What about a wager?"
Mira raised an eyebrow. "What kind?"
"If his food impresses you, you give him a stall for a week. No charge," Sylvia proposed. "If he fails, he works for you—twenty crowns worth of labor."
Kaito's heart pounded. That was a lot of risk, but…
"I'll do it," he said firmly.
Mira chuckled. "Gutsy. Alright, kid. You've got one hour."
Kaito set up in a small corner of the market, placing his backpack down beside him. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind.
The ingredients he had gathered in this world were excellent, but now, he had something that no other chef here had—spices from his world.
From his bag, he pulled out a small jar of soy sauce, a tin of black pepper, and a small pouch of dried chili flakes he had brought from his apartment. He had been waiting for the right moment to use them.
This was it.
Kaito mixed sky flour with a pinch of ember salt, adding a small amount of drakefat butter to create a soft, pliable dough. He kneaded it carefully, feeling the texture shift under his fingers until it was just right.
He rolled the dough into thin circles, keeping them uniform in size.
For the filling, he took shade hare meat and minced it finely, adding chopped whisperleaf for a citrusy brightness and a handful of sunroot for subtle sweetness.
Then, he reached for his black pepper—a spice unknown in this world. He ground a generous amount into the mix, the sharp, warm aroma instantly changing the profile of the dish.
To balance it, he added a drizzle of soy sauce, the salty, umami-rich liquid blending seamlessly with the local flavors. Finally, he sprinkled in a pinch of chili flakes, adding a layer of heat that would build gradually with each bite.
Kaito placed a heavy pan over the fire, adding a small amount of drakefat oil. Once it shimmered with heat, he arranged the dumplings inside, letting them steam until the tops turned translucent.
For the final step, he pan-fried them until the bottoms were crisp and golden brown, locking in the juices. The moment the dumplings hit the heat, a rich, smoky aroma filled the air—a fusion of flavors from two different worlds.
People started gathering. The scent was too unique, too tantalizing to ignore. Even Mira, who had been watching with skepticism, leaned in slightly.
Kaito plated the dumplings, drizzling them with a reduction of nightberry glaze before garnishing with fresh whisperleaf.
Mira picked up a dumpling and took a bite.
Kaito watched closely.
The first sensation was the crunch—a perfect contrast between crispy and soft. Then came the deep umami of the soy sauce, followed by the sharp kick of black pepper and the slow-building warmth of the chili flakes. The whisperleaf's citrus tang cut through the richness, making the flavors pop.
Mira's expression remained unreadable for a long moment. Then, she exhaled slowly.
"Well," she said, setting the plate down. "That's… new."
The crowd murmured.
Mira looked at Kaito, her sharp eyes now gleaming with interest. "You've got yourself a stall, kid. One week. No charge."
Kaito grinned, relief and excitement flooding him all at once.
The crowd immediately shifted, people stepping forward, coins in hand.
"How much?" someone asked.
Kaito glanced at Mira, who smirked. "I'd say three crowns a plate."
Kaito turned back to the eager customers.
"Three crowns," he said confidently.
And just like that, he made his first sale in Lysmar.
As the night deepened and Kaito worked tirelessly over the fire, Sylvia leaned against a post nearby, watching with mild amusement.
"You really might pull this off," she said.
Kaito didn't look up from his cooking. "I told you. Food isn't just food. It's a way to connect, to make a place for yourself."
Sylvia smirked. "You sound like a fool."
Kaito chuckled. "Maybe. But I'm a fool who just got a stall in the biggest trade hub in the region."
She shook her head, but there was something like pride in her gaze.
As the night stretched on and more plates were served, Kaito felt something shift inside him.
This wasn't just survival.
This was the start of something real.
And he was ready to show the world exactly what he could do.
The Amber District didn't slow down even as the night stretched into its later hours. If anything, the market seemed to come alive after sundown. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, sizzling vegetables, and sweet pastries. Lanterns lined the streets, casting a warm glow over the crowded walkways where merchants continued their trade under the star-speckled sky.
Kaito's stall was no different.
With each plate of dumplings he served, his confidence grew. The blend of familiar spices from his world—soy sauce, black pepper, and chili flakes—paired with the local ingredients created something unlike anything else in the market. It was both foreign and familiar, new yet strangely comforting.
The customers noticed.
At first, only a handful of people came forward, hesitant but intrigued by the aroma. But as the first bites were taken, the reaction spread quickly—word of mouth was more powerful than any advertisement. Soon, a small line had formed in front of his stall.
Kaito moved with precision, his hands a blur as he rolled, filled, and pan-fried dumplings in perfect rhythm. The sizzling of the pan, the slight smokiness in the air, the burst of steam when he plated the dumplings—it all became part of a mesmerizing dance.
Sylvia, who had initially been watching from the sidelines, eventually stepped in to help—though not without a sigh.
"I didn't sign up to be a waitress," she muttered, collecting coins from customers.
Kaito smirked as he flipped another batch. "I'll make it up to you."
"You better."
She turned back to a waiting customer and, in her usual blunt manner, asked, "What do you want?"
As the night deepened, the energy around Kaito's stall didn't fade.
Some customers were adventurers, their leather armor scuffed from travel. Others were merchants, pausing their deals to grab something quick to eat. A few noble types passed by, their curiosity outweighing their initial skepticism.
Then came the real test.
A well-dressed man stepped up to the stall. His dark coat was lined with fine embroidery, and the silver ring on his finger marked him as someone important. His eyes swept over the food with the calculating gaze of a critic.
Mira, who had been silently watching from a few stalls away, tensed at the sight of him.
Kaito handed him a plate without hesitation. If he was important, all the better. If he liked the food, word would spread even faster.
The man picked up a dumpling with gloved fingers, taking a careful bite.
Silence.
Then, he exhaled softly, setting the plate down with a nod of approval.
"This," he said, his voice smooth and measured, "is not what I expected from a street vendor."
Kaito tilted his head. "Good or bad?"
A faint smirk crossed the man's lips. "Good."
Mira relaxed, arms crossed as she observed.
"You've got something here, chef," the man continued, setting three gold coins on the counter. Gold, not silver or crowns. A far higher price than Kaito had even considered. "I'll be back."
And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell was that?"
Mira clicked her tongue. "That was Edric Valfort. He's one of the most influential merchants in Lysmar. If he's interested in your food, things might start moving faster than you expect."
Kaito stared at the gold coins on the counter.
He had just caught the attention of someone powerful.
And if this city worked anything like the markets back home, that meant doors were about to open.
By the time the crowd finally thinned, Kaito had sold out. Not a single dumpling remained.
He wiped his brow, exhaustion settling in, but it was the best kind of exhaustion. He counted his earnings—thirty-five crowns and three gold coins. More than enough to keep the stall running for the next week.
Mira walked up, inspecting his work with a critical eye. "Not bad, kid. You handled the rush without burning down the place."
"Thanks for the confidence," Kaito said, stretching his sore shoulders.
Mira nodded toward the gold coins. "If Valfort's interested, you might start seeing more customers with deep pockets. Be ready for that."
Kaito frowned. "More customers I can handle, but if word spreads too fast, won't that cause trouble with the other vendors?"
Mira grinned, an almost mischievous glint in her eye. "Welcome to business, kid. The moment you prove you're better, someone will want to take you down."
Kaito let that sink in. Competition wasn't just about making the best food—it was about surviving in the market itself.
Sylvia leaned against the stall, watching the exchange. "You're not backing down, are you?"
Kaito looked at his stall, at the remnants of a successful first night, then at the lively Amber District.
"No," he said firmly. "This is just the beginning."
Mira chuckled. "Good. Then I'll expect something even better next time."
After packing up, Kaito and Sylvia made their way toward the small rented room Mira had arranged for them in one of the inns nearby. It wasn't much, but it was a place to rest, a place to think.
As he lay back on the cot, staring at the ceiling, his mind wouldn't stop racing.
He had a foothold in Lysmar.
He had competition.
He had potential customers that could change everything.
And tomorrow, he would wake up and do it all again—only better.
A slow grin spread across his face.
This was exactly the kind of challenge he had been waiting for.