Chapter 28: Chilled Chinese Noodles and the Assassin’s Guild
The village chief suddenly announced that we would be entertaining the traveling merchants.
“W-Wait, Chief! Get over here for a second!”
“Hm? What is it?”
“What do you mean, ‘what is it’?! You can’t just spring something like that on me out of nowhere!”
“Come now, surely you can make it work! I learned something from the incident with the Saintess! Once people taste your cooking, Eight, most of them become completely captivated by it! If these merchants eat your food, they’ll definitely come back to Papel Village! And if they return, that’ll help revitalize the village! Everything is for the sake of village development! If it’s what you desire, I’m even willing to strip naked and bow in apology!”
“That’s not persuasion—that’s a completely new form of threat!”
The village chief’s eyes widened dramatically as he actually started reaching for his clothes.
Panicking, I hurriedly stopped him.
Seriously, this old man never stopped thinking about ways to promote the village.
“Of course, I’ll reward you properly as well! Please, I’m begging you!”
“…Sigh. Fine. I’ll do it. Just keep your clothes on.”
“Ohhh! You have my deepest gratitude!”
And so, thanks to the chief’s relentless enthusiasm, I ended up hosting the merchants and guided them to my house.
“Sorry it’s just some tea.”
“Oh, thank you very much. I was just starting to get thirsty.”
I set a glass of chilled tea in front of them.
The merchant immediately drained it in one gulp.
Only then did I notice something I should have realized earlier.
Of the two merchants, the older man—who seemed to be the senior partner—was drenched in sweat. Beads of perspiration streamed down his forehead, and he kept glancing around nervously, unable to sit still.
“Sorry. I should have noticed sooner. I’ll turn on the air conditioner.”
“The… air conditioner?”
“Ah, Raphiel. Could you grab the remote—”
“Click.”
Before I could finish, Raphiel snatched up the remote with lightning speed and pressed the button.
A few moments later, cool air began circulating through the living room.
The middle-aged merchant’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“W-What is this?! Cool wind is blowing out of that box!?”
“If it’s still too warm, let me know and I’ll adjust it. Heatstroke can be dangerous.”
“N-No, no! Please don’t trouble yourself! This fellow Zald just sweats easily. It’s not nearly as bad as it looks, so there’s no need to worry.”
At that moment, Raphiel tilted her head thoughtfully.
“Those look less like sweat from heat and more like cold sweat. Has something unpleasant happened?”
“G-Gah!”
Zald visibly flinched.
“C-Cold sweat? Nonsense! It’s simply because today is unusually hot!”
“Well, this region is entering the rough season soon.”
“The rough season?” Raphiel asked.
“Oh, right. You only arrived recently, so you wouldn’t know.”
For reasons nobody had ever fully understood, the area around Papel Village suffered from wildly unstable weather between late spring and late autumn.
One day would be unbearably hot, and the next it might snow.
The climate seemed determined to cause trouble whenever possible.
“Ah, that reminds me.”
An idea suddenly struck me.
“It’s hot today. Maybe I’ll make that.”
With that decided, I began preparing lunch.
First, I poured beaten eggs into a frying pan. Once they set, I removed them and sliced them into thin strips, creating delicate ribbons of shredded omelet.
Next came the cucumbers and ham, both cut into fine strips, followed by tomatoes sliced into neat wedges.
Steamed chicken breast, shredded by hand, would work as a substitute for the ham.
But that required more effort.
Today, ham would do.
There.
The toppings were ready.
“Now then, let’s order some Chinese noodles…”
After the noodles arrived through mail-order magic, I boiled them thoroughly before immediately rinsing them under cold running water.
The washing process removed the slippery coating from the noodles and brought out their springy texture.
Once drained in a colander, they were ready.
The final step was the sauce.
Soy sauce, vinegar, water, sugar, and sesame oil were blended together into a refreshing soy-based dressing.
Then I arranged the chilled noodles in a glass bowl.
On top went the shredded egg, cucumber, ham, and tomato.
Finally, I generously poured the sauce over everything.
“And done. Cold Chinese noodles.”
I wiped my hands and looked toward Raphiel.
“Could you call Grana and Eve?”
“Understood.”
Soon, everyone gathered around the table.
The colorful bowls were lined up before us.
“Eight-sama, what is this dish?”
“It’s called hiyashi chūka—cold Chinese noodles. Even on scorching days like today, when people don’t have much appetite, it’s easy to eat because it’s so refreshing.”
“…Your world remains as obsessed with food as ever. Frankly, I’m impressed.”
Well, Japanese people were a race that looked at poisonous potatoes and dangerous fish and thought:
Surely there’s a way to eat that.
One should never underestimate Japan’s determination when it came to food.
“Slurp!”
The merchant’s eyes widened.
“This is remarkable! It’s visually beautiful, and the moderate sourness stimulates the appetite wonderfully!”
“I agree,” Raphiel said while elegantly twirling noodles around her chopsticks. “The crisp texture of the cucumber and the rich flavor of the ripe tomato are delicious.”
“It’s tasty,” Eve admitted, “but isn’t the sauce a little too sour? I’m not sure it’s my thing.”
“In that case, why not try adding mayonnaise?”
I handed her the bottle.
Eve squeezed a generous amount over the noodles and took another bite.
“Whoa! It’s so much milder now! I feel like I could eat endless bowls of this!”
“Hm. I think I prefer it this way as well.”
Apparently, Grana shared her opinion.
Then it happened.
A dark shadow slowly crawled out from the household shrine.
The black mass twisted and reshaped itself before taking the form of a young girl.
“Eight. I wish to partake of that dish as well.”
“Ah, Hinoka. So you’re materializing to eat today.”
Hinoka was whimsical.
Some days she would appear in physical form and join meals like this.
Other times, offerings left before the shrine would simply vanish at some point during the day.
No one ever witnessed her taking them.
Now seated at the table, Hinoka enthusiastically devoured the noodles while repeatedly muttering, “Delicious.”
Watching Raphiel, Eve, and Hinoka eating together was strangely picturesque.
Every single one of them was absurdly attractive.
“Tell me, Eight,” Hinoka said between bites. “Who are these individuals?”
“Oh, they’re merchants visiting Papel Village.”
“I see.”
Her crimson eyes shifted toward the merchants.
“As long as they do nothing improper toward this village or toward Eight, I shall do nothing. There is no need for such fear.”
“A-Ah, y-yes! In that case, we should be taking our leave!”
“Huh? Already?”
At Hinoka’s meaningful words, Zald practically jumped out of his seat.
“Indeed! Eight-sama, the meal was absolutely delicious! Come, let’s go!”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
“Ah, wait a second.”
When I called out to him, Zald froze.
Slowly, stiffly, he turned around.
His face had gone pale.
Maybe the heat really was getting to him.
“W-Wh-What is it?”
“Just wanted to say good luck with your work. And if you ever come back to the village, you’ll be welcome here.”
“Ah… uh… yes…”
Looking completely deflated, as though he had expected something far worse, Zald departed with his younger companion.
I watched them leave before turning back toward the others.
“…They were strange merchants.”
“Strange?” I asked. “What makes you say that, Raphiel?”
“They were certainly surprised by the air conditioner, yet they showed no desire to obtain one. A merchant should have been fascinated by something so useful.”
“Huh.”
Now that she mentioned it…
“That is strange.”
“Perhaps,” Raphiel said thoughtfully, “they weren’t ordinary merchants at all.”
“…Wait, what?”
That was a terrifying thought.
◇ ◆ ◇
Several days later.
Within the Kingdom of Elde stood the ruins of an abandoned castle.
Deep inside those crumbling remains was the headquarters of the Assassins’ Guild.
There, Zald and the black-clad young man who had accompanied him stood before their leader.
“…What exactly is this report?”
“A review of the cold Chinese noodles, Boss.”
“You know, despite being the most skilled assassin in the guild, you occasionally have moments of unbelievable stupidity.”
The person reading the report in the dimly lit room was none other than the founder of the Assassins’ Guild.
He was a suspicious-looking young man with perpetually narrowed eyes, the sort of person who looked shady even while sleeping.
As he flipped through the pages, his expression gradually changed.
“…Now I’m hungry. What are you planning to do about that? I suddenly want to eat this dish again. Can we recreate it?”
“That’s the problem. I can’t determine what seasonings were used in the sauce, let alone the proportions.”
“Hmmm. It probably uses soy sauce, right? Maybe next time you go to Papel Village, I’ll come along too.”
“…I wouldn’t recommend that.”
The guild master’s gaze drifted toward the final section of the report.
Near the end, hidden beneath paragraphs enthusiastically describing food, were several hastily written observations.
“‘An absurdly powerful old man.’”
“‘A young girl who crawled out of a small shrine while radiating an ominous aura.’”
“…Those sound like divine beings.”
The young man buried his face in his hands.
The report had somehow transformed into a food review.
“Besides that, there was Holy Knight Grana—the disciple of Sword Saint Lepart, who became a Holy Knight faster than anyone in recorded history. There was also a girl who appeared to be a high-ranking demon. Honestly, I don’t think even the combined strength of the entire Assassins’ Guild could defeat them.”
“Understood.”
The guild master immediately nodded.
“Then we’ll decline the contract. I never liked the idea of assassinating the Saintess anyway.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“…Though honestly, that guy really seems like he’s from the same homeland as us. Judging from the report, he sounds like a decent person. We’re around the same age too. I wonder if he’d treat me to a meal if I brought a gift.”
At that exact moment—
“That would be rather inconvenient.”
A woman’s voice echoed through the room.
“We already paid the advance.”
“…You’re quite talented at eavesdropping,” the guild master replied calmly. “We’ll refund the payment.”
“Honestly. The reputation of the Assassins’ Guild is beginning to sound like a joke.”
The space before them distorted.
Ripples spread through the air.
A woman emerged from the warped void.
She wore a black micro-bikini beneath a pitch-black cloak.
The outfit left astonishingly little to the imagination.
Her figure was breathtakingly voluptuous.
“Your fashion sense remains as remarkable as ever,” Zald remarked.
“That’s irrelevant.”
She waved the comment away.
“What matters is whether you truly intend to reject our request.”
“Yes. It seems this contract was simply not meant to be.”
“…You realize we could destroy your organization before we even eliminate the Saintess.”
“Hahaha.”
The guild master laughed lightly.
“Unfortunately, I never built an organization so fragile that it could be crushed by a mere cult worshipping an ancient dragon race that went extinct ages ago.”
The woman’s eyes widened in shock.
“How do you know that?”
“Oh, what a wonderful expression.”
His smile widened.
“You underestimate my guild far too much.”
“…Tch.”
The woman clicked her tongue.
“Fine. There are other ways to accomplish our goals. Just don’t interfere.”
“Of course. Unless someone hires us specifically to interfere with you.”
With another irritated click of her tongue, the woman vanished.
The distortion in space faded.
Silence returned.
The moment she was completely gone, the guild master’s composed demeanor shattered instantly.
“THAT WAS TERRIFYING!”
He practically screamed.
“I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE! WHAT WAS THAT KILLING INTENT?! THAT WAS HORRIFYING!”
“…Yeah,” Zald muttered. “She’s definitely stronger than me. Running into people stronger than yourself over and over really destroys your confidence.”
“WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO CALMLY?!”
The guild master pointed frantically toward the door.
“GO GET THE MAGES! RUN A FULL SECURITY CHECK IMMEDIATELY! ALS◯K! SECOM! SOMEBODY!”
The founder of the Assassins’ Guild—
was, at heart, an enormous coward.