Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 172: Gourmet in the Wild (For Real)

Ren blinked, rubbing her eyes vigorously with the back of her wet hand. She squinted through the grey curtain of rain, trying to clear the distorted image.

But when she looked again, the figure was gone.

The space between the trees was empty. Just rain, mud, and more rain.

"Creepy," Ren whispered, a shiver running down her spine.

She furrowed her brows. ’Did I imagine it?’

Ren shook her head, water droplets flying from her hair.

"I’m definitely seeing things," she dismissed it.

She turned back to the dry sanctuary of the hollow.

"Fire first," Ren decided.

She began scurrying around the dry interior of the hollow, gathering small twigs, flakes of bark, and dried leaves that had blown in before the storm. She piled them into a neat little pyramid in the center of the dirt floor, arranging the kindling with the precision of a chef plating a garnish.

"Perfect," Ren muttered.

She got her silver Zippo lighter from her inventory.

"Let there be lig—"

WHOOSH.

A sudden, intense gust of wind blasted into the hollow.

It was like a jet engine had parked at the entrance. Ren’s carefully constructed pyramid of twigs exploded. Dried leaves flew into her face, sticking to her wet eyelashes. Bark scattered into the corners of the cave.

Ren sat there, covered in debris, holding her unlit lighter.

She looked up.

The Golden Eagle had returned. It stood at the entrance, shaking its massive wings dry and looking incredibly pleased with itself.

Ren puffed out her cheeks in frustration.

"Hey!" Ren complained, spitting a piece of leaf out of her mouth. "You destroyed my set up!"

Thud.

The eagle ignored her outburst and dropped something on the ground.

It landed softly near Ren’s knee.

Ren looked from the wet bird to the object. It was small. It was white. It was fluffy.

Her brows shot up. Her eyes widened, sparkling with a sudden, wild intensity.

"Is that..." Ren whispered.

It was a rabbit. A very plump, very dead snow rabbit.

Ren’s annoyance vanished instantly. A smile stretched across her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat.

"You brought dinner!" she gasped.

Ren snatched up the rabbit carcass by its hind legs. She stood up, completely forgetting her lack of attire, and began to spin around in a circle.

"Meat! Meat! Meat!" Ren chanted, doing a little jig. "We have protein! We have sustenance! The drought is over!"

She bounced around the small hollow, swinging the dead rabbit like a party favor.

The Golden Eagle sat down by the entrance. It shook the last of the water from its feathers, then settled its wings.

It watched her.

Its piercing silver eyes followed Ren. They tracked the sway of her breasts as she jumped, the curve of her hips as she spun, and the wild bounce of her bright red hair.

The bird tilted its head. It was taking her all in. If a bird could look appreciative, this one looked like it was enjoying the dinner theater.

Ren finally stopped bouncing, breathless and beaming. She clutched the rabbit to her chest like a teddy bear.

"Why are you so good to me?" Ren asked the bird, her eyes shining with genuine gratitude.

The bird, of course, didn’t respond. As usual, it only stared at her with that unblinking, intense gaze.

Ren set the rabbit aside on a clean leaf.

"I promise," Ren declared, pointing at the bird with the lighter. "I am going to cook something tasty. You won’t regret this."

She got back on her knees and re-gathered the scattered twigs and leaves. This time, she built the fire structure quickly, shielding it with her body.

Click. Flick.

The lighter sparked, and a small, warm flame caught the dry leaves.

The eagle scrambled to its feet, its wings flaring out in alarm. It backed away at the sudden appearance of fire.

"Whoa, easy!" Ren cooed, holding up her hands. "It’s okay! It’s just a little fire. See?"

She held up the silver Zippo, flipping the lid open and closed.

"It’s a lighter," she explained to the terrified bird. "Magic fire in a metal box."

The eagle watched her for a moment, eyeing the flame suspiciously. It slowly lowered its feathers and sat back down. It was calm again, though it kept a wary eye on the flickering light.

"Okay," Ren rubbed her hands together. "Let’s see what I have in my inventory."

One by one, items popped into existence on a large, decaying green leaf she had laid out as a prep station.

A shiny stainless steel stock pot. A high carbon chef’s knife. A heavy bag of white rice. A large knob of fresh ginger. Bright orange roots of turmeric. A bright yellow lemon. A bundle of swamp kale. A handful of garlic chives. A cluster of mushrooms. A handful of sweet, electric berries.

Ren crouched naked in the dirt, looking at her haul.

"Okay," she muttered, tapping her chin. "Rabbit. Ginger. Turmeric. Rice."

She went through her mental Rolodex of rabbit recipes.

"I don’t have the scotch bonnet peppers for a proper jerk..." she mused, picking up the turmeric. "But I have turmeric, ginger, and garlic chives. And I have a pot for rice."

A lightbulb went off.

"Jamaican-style Curry Rabbit," Ren whispered, a grin spreading across her face.

It was perfect. The turmeric would give it that beautiful golden color and earthy flavor, mimicking a mild curry powder. The ginger and lemon would cut through the gamey taste of the rabbit. She could steam the rice in the pot and sauté the swamp kale with the mushrooms as a side.

"I can make it work," Ren nodded confidently. "I will make it work."

She stood up, brushing dirt off her knees.

"I never thought I’d be cooking nude in the woods," Ren mused aloud, looking down at herself. "Gordon Ramsay would have a field day with the hygiene violations."

She stepped past the eagle, careful not to spook it, and went to the entrance where the rain was still pouring.

She stuck her hands out, scrubbing them thoroughly under the natural faucet of the storm.

Ren took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of ozone and wet earth. She turned around, shaking the water from her hands.

She eyed the ingredients laid out on the leaf. She eyed the dead rabbit. She eyed the gleaming chef’s knife.

Her expression shifted. The scared, lost woman was gone. In her place stood the Red Dragon Chef!

Ren was going to manifest the true essence of gourmet in the wild.