Now—
Gordon's eyes are on me.
Eris's eyes are on me.
Lilly's eyes are on me.
And in front of me—
A mountain of vegetables.
A big-ass pile of green onions, twenty regular onions, twenty carrots, and twenty potatoes—staring back at me, waiting to be conquered.
The challenge?
Show off my knife skills and prep them all in ten minutes.
I tighten the apron around my waist.
Close my eyes.
Deep breath.
The pressure is heavy, but I know—I can do this.
Come on, Felicia, you've got this!
I may be in a different body.
But I am still me.
My hands still remember how to work a knife.
I open my eyes.
BOOM.
Confidence surge.
Spirit fired up.
God-mode prep cook activated.
LET'S GOOOOOO!!!
But first—
Rule number one: A dull knife is a dangerous knife.
The knife on the counter looks decent—but it's not sharp enough.
Without hesitation, I grab the sharpening rod nearby.
Schweng schweng schweng schweng!
A few swift strokes, and the blade is perfected. I run my finger lightly along the edge—yup, it's good to go now.
"Ho ho!"
Gordon's deep chuckle breaks the tension. He's standing right next to me, watching intently.
Oh, I see now.
This must've been his first test—to see if I knew the importance of a sharp blade.
If I had just started cutting without sharpening, I would've failed instantly.
But I passed.
A sharp knife is a must.
Every real cook knows that. It's rule number one.
Now—
Time to slice and dice.
Where do I start? The carrots or the green onions?
Rule number two: If unsure, ask!
"Mr. Gordon," I say, glancing at him confidently. "There are many types of cuts. What would you like me to show first?"
Gordon raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Oh? If you can, show me everything," he says, arms crossing as he leans forward.
A grin creeps up my lips.
"ALRIGHT!"
I reach for the carrots first.
Now—
Grip matters.
I hold the knife properly—fingers wrapped securely around the handle, my index finger resting along the blade for balance and precision. My thumb presses against the other side, ensuring control.
This grip gives me both stability and finesse.
I place the carrot on the cutting board, holding it steady with my free hand, fingers curled inward for safety. The blade rests lightly against the vegetable.
Ready.
Prepcook knife skill—first technique: BRUNOISE.
Pap! Pap! Pap!
I cut off the rounded edges, squaring the carrot so it sits flat on the board—no wobbling.
Then—
Shhhhck! Shhhhck! Shhhhck!
I slice the carrot into thin, even sticks.
Next, I line up the sticks neatly—
And—
Pap! Pap! Pap!
I dice them into perfect little cubes, no bigger than 1-2 millimeters each.
Tiny, uniform orange cubes fall in a perfect pile—each one identical to the last.
I glance at Gordon.
His eyes widen slightly.
There's a glimmer of acknowledgment in his expression.
I smirk.
But I'm just getting started.
Prepcook knife skill—second technique: SMALL DICE.
Pap! Pap! Pap!
The knife moves faster now, but still controlled—larger cubes, just as precise.
Third technique: JULIENNE.
Shhhhck! Shhhhck!
Long, thin matchstick-like slices, uniform and even.
Fourth technique: BATONNETTE.
Pap! Pap!
Thicker, rectangular sticks done in seconds.
I'm in the zone now.
The rhythm of the knife flows effortlessly.
My hands move with machine-like precision, the blade dancing over the cutting board.
One minute passes.
All the carrots? DONE.
Another minute.
The potatoes? ALREADY PREPPED.
I grin.
Somehow—
I've never felt this good before.
For some reason—
This is fun.
I'm absolutely destroying this test!
——————————————-
Less than five minutes later…
"FINISHED!!!"
I slam the knife down with a triumphant grin, admiring the majestic piles of perfectly diced, sliced, and chopped vegetables in front of me.
The time limit? Ten minutes.
My actual time? Half of that.
Oh boy…
I haven't been in a kitchen in years—
But it looks like I've still got it.
Feeling proud, I turn to look at everyone standing around me, expecting some feedback.
And—
Eh???
Why is everyone frozen???
Eris. Frozen.
Lilly. Frozen.
Even Gordon—the massive, battle-scarred kitchen veteran—frozen.
It's like they've just witnessed something terrifying.
I blink, feeling a little self-conscious.
"Ehhh…" I stammer, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "H-how did I do? Did I meet your qualifications?"
Lilly is the first to break the silence, her voice shaky.
"Y-yeahhh…" she stammers. "I-I think you didn't just meet the qualifications—you crushed them…"
"WOW!"
Eris suddenly shouts, her voice exploding with excitement.
"What the heck was that, Felicia?! That was AMAZING!!!"
Hearing that, warmth floods my cheeks, the praise sending a wave of pride through me. A shy smile creeps onto my lips.
But…
The final say belongs to Gordon.
And—
He still hasn't said anything.
I turn to him, my confidence wavering slightly.
"Ermmm… Mr. Gordon?"
Nothing.
For some reason, he's just standing there, completely motionless.
But then—
Suddenly—
"LILLY!!! GET THE PAPERWORK!!!"
The inn owner's roar shakes the entire room.
"Y-YES, FATHER!!!" Lilly squeaks, immediately sprinting toward the back.
I blink.
"Eh? Does that mean…?"
Gordon grins, crossing his arms.
"YES! YOU ARE HIRED!!!"
"YEAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
I jump for joy, throwing my arms in the air, shouting with excitement.
Eris leaps up with me, just as ecstatic.
"Congratulations, Felicia!!!" she beams, her eyes sparkling with pride.
"Thanks!!!" I grin back, my heart swelling with pure joy.
Ahhhh…
I feel so happy right now.
Getting a job on my first day reincarnated as a catgirl?
AM I NOT AWESOME???
HECK YEAH!!!