Chapter 4.1

Ronny, a penniless F-rank adventurer, clutched the two copper coins he had earned with sheer luck as if they were his lifeline.

Every few seconds, he checked his pocket to ensure the coins were still there.

‘Finally, I can have a proper meal!’

His bloodshot eyes betrayed his hunger and desperation.

F-rank adventurers were practically treated as vagrants.

Their lives were a constant struggle to secure even the bare necessities of food, clothing, and shelter.

Ronny’s clothes were threadbare, just enough to stave off frostbite, and he lived in a 5-square-meter room crammed with eight people, more akin to a livestock pen than a home.

‘If I go back to the lodging with this money, it’ll just get stolen. Might as well spend it all here!’

Despite his miserable circumstances, Ronny lived each day with hope, believing that hardships and good fortune would come in turns.

Today, for once, fortune smiled upon him.

The previous night, heavy snow had fallen in Haven.

Compared to risking his life in the magic zone as a porter or gatherer, shoveling snow was a blessing.

Though the pay was meager, it was a job that needed doing.

Ronny worked harder than anyone, and by noon, he received his promised two coppers.

‘What should I eat…?’

Clutching his coins, Ronny scanned the street with watering eyes.

His stomach growled fiercely, the pain now so intense that it felt like his insides were being twisted.

Sniff, sniff…

And then it hit him—a smell unlike anything he’d ever encountered.

It was a stew, but no stew he’d ever known had smelled this heavenly.

“Jack’s Inn?”

He turned to see the source of the aroma: Jack’s Inn.

He wasn’t the only one. Others passing by also caught the scent and began making their way to the inn.

Ronny, as if hypnotized, followed them.

—

Inside Jack’s Inn, the enticing aroma was even stronger.

The first floor, which served as the dining area, was bustling with people—some from outside, others who had been staying on the second floor but couldn’t resist coming down.

“Hey, Jack! What’s that smell? Did you come up with a new menu?”

“I’ve never smelled anything this good before!”

Drooling, people bombarded Jack with questions.

“It’s called Arad Stew, made by our new chef.”

“Seriously, it’s amazing. Truly…”

Jack and his son Tom, still basking in the afterglow of the heavenly taste, answered with dreamy expressions.

“Arad Stew?”

“Ah, the healer who treated Renon and you yesterday?”

“Turns out the healer is also a great cook?”

The customers murmured among themselves.

“How much is it? Wait, 2 coppers?!”

“That’s ridiculously expensive! Who charges 2 coppers for a bowl of stew?”

Frowns spread across the room as the price was revealed.

‘2 coppers? That’s everything I have…’

For Ronny, the price was a slap back to reality.

In this world, stew typically costs less than one copper—an unspoken rule, much like the price of a bowl of rice in modern Korea.

“Did they price it high because it’s made by a healer?”

“What an honor, to eat stew made by such an expensive healer.”

The crowd’s gaze turned toward the kitchen, where Arad was busy preparing ingredients.

The stares weren’t exactly friendly.

“It’s because of the Arad Salt in the stew.”

“Arad Salt?”

Jack, now in charge of sales and promotion due to his injury, diverted the crowd’s attention.

“That’s right. Even with minimal profit, the price has to be 2 coppers.”

While Jack’s explanation helped, it wasn’t a good strategy to alienate potential customers by saying, “Take it or leave it.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

If he wanted to sell at a premium, he needed to get them to try it first.

“Well, the smell alone is worth a try. I’ll have one!”

“If it’s not good, you’ll hear about it!”

Eventually, a few people decided to order the Arad Stew.

“…I’ll have a bowl too.”

With trembling hands, Ronny handed over his precious two coppers to Jack.

“You won’t regret it!”

—

Bowls of Arad Stew were brought to the tables.

The portions were surprisingly generous—about 1.5 times what other inns served.

“Well, if it’s expensive, at least the portions are big.”

The sight of the heavy bowls softened the crowd’s expressions.

Everyone eagerly dug in with their spoons, Ronny included.

!!!!!

And then, as if on cue, every diner froze, their bodies shuddering.

Eyes widened, and facial muscles twitched as they struggled to process the sensation.

It was a taste unlike anything they’d ever known.

Gone were the usual gamey stench and unpleasant flavors they had come to accept.

Instead, the stew delivered a savory depth of flavor and umami that no amount of salt could replicate.

The smell, taste, and texture—enhanced by Arad’s max-level cooking skill—created a perfect harmony in their mouths.