24 Hearts

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

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Serenia: City of Adventurers.

After our meal, Kaseun Sabrak and I finally reached my home, which had a brand new front door mounted on the hinges.

Upon entering the foyer, I instantly noticed other changes. The blood which had covered the entire floor had been scrubbed clean. Even the visceral reek of it was no longer in the air. The broken furniture had been removed as well, and as I scanned the room, I saw no sign that two people had lost their lives here. I absent-mindedly ran my hand through my hair, deep in thought.

“Judah… You can cry if you want. If… if this doesn’t make you cry, what will?”

No tears flowed from my eyes, and this fact did little to improve my mood. I had existed in this universe for but a day, yet I still felt a deep bond with Judah’s parents, for in so many ways, they were my own. Kaseun sighed deeply from where he stood next to me.

“Are you sure you want to remain here? Wouldn’t you rather come with me?”

“No… It’s okay. Really, I want to live here.”

“Right, fine,” Kaseun said as muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t make out. He then promised me that as long as I lived here, he would ensure that I was well provisioned with food. I thanked him as he set off to the market. Finally left alone, I continued my study of the house.

In terms of its layout, it was a simple home, yet my father had been a nobleman. This meant that there were all sorts of doodads and luxurious thingamajigs placed within the rooms. A deeper study of the contraptions and their functions somewhat broke the immersion I had expected to feel within such a low-tech fantasy world, though their existence would surely make my stay here more bearable. There was a cabinet with a glass fronting, and I could feel the cold air that circulated through it by some magical means. A few old vegetables could be seen inside. Another contraption was clearly a gas stove or something akin to it, for I saw no obvious fuel source, yet its flames burned well all the same. There was even a toilet that functioned by using some sort of water or gravitational magic, which fed into its bowl through piping.

“Thank god,” I muttered, glad that the presence of magic in this world at least enabled me to enjoy certain creature comforts. I knew that I would find no television here, yet how I could have survived without a fridge or a toilet, I didn’t know. It would have been a nightmare.

For the first time in a long while, I was able to laugh with a mind cleared of worries.

Various books and maps were scattered around the house, a fact which pleased me greatly, especially as the number of maps surpassed the number of books. Kaseun would be gone for a while, I guessed, so I grabbed a map and headed upstairs. The door to my room had been replaced as well. As I entered, I noticed that here the cleaning had not been so thorough. There was still the visible burgundy of dried blood in a few hard to reach corners.

I smiled bitterly upon seeing this and then threw myself onto my bed. Despite my light weight, the bed still audibly creaked as I landed on it. Shoddy workmanship, I decided. No matter what position I tried to lay in, none of them were comfortable, so in the end, I sat upon the mattress with the map spread open on the blanket. The map looked ancient, with tattered corners and the brownish coloration of aged paper. It was created entirely in black ink, which stood out clearly on the aged surface it had been penned upon. All across it, markings had been made denoting the exact as well as relative areas in which meteors had fallen. My world consisted of two continents, yet this map only showed the one, as well as the island that was to be found between them. Portions of the map had been left blank. The map was incomplete. Still, this old map was going to help me a great deal.

I now used the chance to open my mini-map, which I had started to test when Kaseun had led me through the city. Whenever I focused on a name or landmark upon the map, further information of the area appeared in my mind. I studied that map for a while, seeing landmasses that I had seen hundreds of times before I had ever entered this world. A few small details might have slipped from my mind, yet the general lay of the land was burned into my memory, for was I not its creator? The next thing I needed was to have a place to record my thoughts.

“It should be here,” I muttered as I started to cycle between my menu options. If Xian had not tampered with the game’s UI, there should be a “Notes” function somewhere.

?Bag? … ?Status window?? … ?Skill window? … ?Map? … ?Quest??… ?Notes?

So, it was here! I knew that the window would open if I said “record” out loud. I hoped that merely thinking it would achieve the same result. Xian should really have included a user guide to better help me adapt.

“Record.” It opened, and I knew that only I could see it. It was a simple journal, originally added into my game with the intention that players did not have to cycle out of the program to make notes in a text document.

I proceeded to hastily write the most important things that needed to be kept in mind before my memory failed me. Though not completely accurate, I recorded the core aspects of the game in order of importance. It was quite easy, for I either thought of the words or summoned a screen that acted as a sort of holographic keyboard. Here was a quick summary of the general themes I inserted into the journal:

– The lore of the Demon Lords and Celestial Kings

– The bits of Pernen’s story regarding the creation of the fragments that I could recall

– Where the fragments were at this stage of the game

– Useful items and their locations

– Simple cooking recipes

– A list of competent NPCs

– Quest details and anything else that could aid me

Whenever I was unsure about something, I left a blank space. Recording all of this information went faster than I had expected, especially as I just had to remember something to record it. I had penned a rough outline, knowing many details had yet to be added.

As I reviewed my writings, I could not help but laugh at the absurdity of my situation. Who would’ve thought that I would ever live inside the world that I had created? Surely, this must be every fantasy author’s dream.

“Huh, if I had known what would happen, I would have buffed Judah’s stats, even if only a little…”

My life had been made needlessly difficult by the man who had created me, and I was that man. I gave a deep sigh and headed downstairs. Hearing someone place something heavy in front of the door, I opened it. Kaseun came in carrying the shopping bags, which he heaped in a big pile. My strong grandfather gave a hearty laugh as he saw the surprise on my face.

“I wasn’t sure as to what you would need.”

I continued gaping at all the food he had bought. There was a big bag of rice, as well as assorted fruits and vegetables. The various types of bread and meat already made my mouth water. He had even purchased some eggs and carried them all the way here.

How could I eat all of this stuff by myself?

“Grandpa, didn’t you buy a bit too much? How can I eat all of this before it spoils?”

Kaseun laughed at my words. “You have a frigid cupboard, so what are you worried about? We’ll just chuck all the old food out and make space for all of this,” he said as he gestured at the bags.

Right, right… I forgot about the fridge.

“I will cook us some dinner!” he heartily announced as he started to move the heavy bags to the kitchen. I helped as much as my small frame allowed me to. When I realized just how many different types of food he had purchased, I started to strongly suspect that he had strolled from store to store, grabbing whatever had taken his fancy. Fortunately, I was familiar with most of the food, as they were at least like their Earthly counterparts. The only thing that lacked was spices, and even the salt and pepper were in quite small bags. It seemed that all types of spices were expensive in Serenia.

Kaseun Sabrak stocked the fridge and then started rummaging around in the cupboards until he had finally placed a cutting board and an assortment of utensils on the counter. He had found an apron in one of the drawers, and even if it was a bit small for his big frame, he donned it.

“Do you live alone?” I asked him as he started preparing the food, my curiosity piqued.

“No, I live with my grandson, his father, my daughter-in-law, and our maid. Why do you ask?”

“Because you seem to know what you are doing. I would have guessed that chefs prepared your food.”

“Oh, they do, they do,” he said, turning back to the task at hand.

The meat he had sliced into thin cutlets looked like veal. I was fascinated as I saw him skillfully trimming the vegetables while the veal slices sizzled as they fried, with flames shooting almost over the pan, which he rhythmically moved all the time, the pieces of meat flipping under his exacting motions. I knew that what he was doing was not simple at all, yet he seemed to do it with graceful and consummate ease. He was putting on quite the show for me.

The smell itself was divine as it filled the kitchen and made my mouth water in anticipatory delight. He finally answered my question:

“In my tenure as a mercenary, I had to cook my own food almost daily, for I had grown tired of the dry jerky which constituted our rations.”

I empathized with his view on jerky, which I only ate if it was the last thing left in the cupboard. When I didn’t comment, he briefly turned his head away from his labors with a laugh. “Of course, now that I have retired from that life, I have even more time to cook! I’ve become quite adept at it, even if I say so myself.”

I really could not disagree with his assessment, for there was no way that something smelling so delicious could taste bad.

Once he had finished the veal stew, he placed the entire pan upon the table. Freshly baked bread was soon removed from the oven and placed next to the stew. As I watched the large chunks of meat swimming in the soup, l had to employ every effort to keep my mouth closed as to not drool upon the table or into our meal. I near-shoveled the stew onto my plate, taking my first spoonful as quickly as my pudgy hands allowed me to. A large chunk of bread was soon torn off, and this I dipped in the soup, stuffing the still-dripping slice in my mouth. The meat was very flavorful and so tender that it almost melted away upon my tongue.

“It’s delicious,” I managed to compliment him between greedy mouthfuls of his fine fare.

“Hahaha, right? I told you I was a good cook!”

After we were both sated, Kaseun Sabrak stated that the time had come for him to return to his own home.

As I saw him off, standing on the porch, he asked me one more time whether I was sure that I did not want to come and stay with his family. I refused his request with a bitter smile.

“I see. You really are stubborn. Well, just call for me if you need anything, anything at all.” He turned around and walked off into the now emptier streets.

Alone once more, I started creating plans for what I would do these next few days within my world.

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I cannot yet tell what will be the focus of my upcoming works.

Based upon your reaction, I will decide whether it shall be a journal detailing the occurrences within a harem, a recipe for rice cakes, or a love affair.

Wouldn’t you like to test the waters?

If you want bread, I will bake bread.