Cooking with Miyakuro-san

Cooking with Miyakuro-san

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Commissioned by Binge Reader

Wordcount: 1118

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Substitute ingredients are for people who don’t have access to teleportation networks.

Don’t get me wrong. CORE’s done pretty fucking well making sure that most foodstuffs has a tenable substitute. Hell, from what I hear, tofu gets better every month and soon vegetables will be able to do our taxes before they’re put on a boil. But, again, why would I bother with substitutes when I can get the real thing from real markets on real ground?

I’ll take limp-leaf lettuce and wicker-basket tofu any day of the week.

Also, why should I bother with CORE’s free-range, very humanitarian, organic, and well-educated hoity-toity chicken population when I could pop down to Midgard, find some sniveling Beast tribe village, and purchase a shitty, stringy rooster raised off of chemicals, couldn’t walk due to its own weight, and has never seen the light of day?

Eating something that lived happily doesn’t sit well with me.

I consider it a public good to end the misery of sad, mentally-broken, and dirt-cheap animals.

It’s honestly less sadistic to eat something that wants to die and didn’t have a happy life. You don’t fool your food, make it think that it’s in paradise, and then murder it while it’s unaware and asleep. That’s cruel, y’know? It just makes sense to take a fat, ugly  bird by the neck and end it’s suffering with a rock to the face that it can see coming. At the very least, you give them the dignity of knowing what they’re in for their whole lives.

But, who am I to judge the choices a secret organization does for the rest of humanity? I’m just some reincarnated god with centuries of experience. Yep, my opinion hardly matters, because I’m mean—

Oh, huh that was some fast plucking.

“Please, leave. Sir.” Well, who am I to deny the proprietor of the quick and dirty establishment I’m visiting. I’m sure that you have better things to do than be nice to someone who can provide you with steady revenue. Maybe, you have some plans to go wallow in some mud? If you let it dry, that would probably give your spine some fucking integrity, boy. “The tribe’s getting restless with you around, sir. They… get angry for me selling to you, too…”

Ah, of course. Mortal jealousy never ceases to amaze. Even if their whole tribe depends on this smart littlel shit having managed to turn garbage and a few piles of feathers into mobile coop plugged into the black market, some idiots think they’ll be able to take it for themselves, as soon as they give everyone else good reason to help them. As if any of the nitwits in the town could do half the things the boy can do, after they kill him and take his shit for themselves.

As always, some coin and some meat and a good reason is all a mortal fuckwit needs to decide to kill someone.

“Oh? Do they? Do you want me to kill them?” The coop owner started at my words. As I said, he was a preachy, smart thing without hint of malice. He paid his dues to the chieftain of his tribe, letting everyone live pretty well for backwards savages. That’d work for regular civilizations, but this tribe had too few men because of certain interdimensional locust problem. And, the one or two weak ones they could spare for internal security had the integrity of Zeus in front of pretty little thing. He was fucked. He knew that he was fucked. But, he didn’t want someone else to fuck the fuckers trying to fuck him. What a fucking fuck. “I’m pretty sure you can guess what I am, so think before you answer.”

Innocence and guilt were easy to discern, as well as those who were cowards and those were brave. As with most trash like mortal mobs, one can easily handle them by turning the brave guilty into splattered bits and pieces all over the rest in a spectacular manner. I am a kind, merciful god who chooses to only slightly traumatize mortals into kowtowing with my will, while only outright killing those who offend my delicate sensibilities.

So, I’ll be blowing up two terrible, boring people today to secure my source of chickens.

Not much of an issue really.

Well, it wouldn’t be.

“Please, don’t.” How mortals like this boy survive is beyond me. Smart and capable, yet without a lick of sense in their bodies. Here I was, something he knew could erase the mountain looming over our shoulder given my casual appearance from nothing every few days, yet he didn’t want me to solve his problems. “I-I’ll speak with them about this. I’m going to convince everyone that I earned this place.” You see the issue is that you built your little coop on wheels yourself, so you shouldn’t have to. I have no clue how you can be a little genius in some areas, yet be so inept in others. They have no claim over you, boy. Yet, you look to them with respect and fear. “They’re still my tribe, sir. I don’t want them to be hurt.”

Briefly, I considered just ignoring him and dealing with the problem.

Then, a certain idiot’s face turned up in the back of my head, with all his shit about tribes and doing the right thing, and complicated things immensely.

I could’ve just waved my hand, killed some scum of the earth, and been on my way.

Now, I need to put in some effort.

“Fine, then. Take this, boy.” I filched a stone from my pocket. It wasn’t special. Just some river stone. But, it was smooth and it took well to being enchanted, since it was bathing in nature for the last couple centuries. He caught it in his hand. “Wear it and those who do you ill will become mildly ill until those thoughts leave them.” Yes, indeed. That stone caused targeted dysentery, so the shits can get to shitting. I am the god of irony. “And, don’t worry, they won’t die… unless they can’t be dissuaded from truly killing you.”

I didn’t bother to hear his answer, took my purchase, and limped my way back to my network.

Whatever happened now was out of my hand.

What was in my hand now was a whole chicken plucked, along with some tofu and lettuce.

Stir fry for the breasts, lettuce, and tofu, so my black hole can gorge herself so she hopefully pops…while the better bits can get fried or made into stock.

Maybe, if this one is good and he lives, I’ll be bothered enough to help get him some upgrades.

Maybe.