Truth And Potato Cakes - Part One

Ethnic uniqueness. Regional exclusivity.

It seemed there wasn’t a single human alive who didn’t feel the charm of those words.

Even a guy like me had once traveled all the way to Susukino in Hokkaido just to eat miso ramen.

The bird-skewers izakaya I stepped into for a drink after eating the miso ramen almost gave me trauma with its sheer, overwhelming energetic vigor. Though the minced chicken skewers were delicious, to be fair.

This is Shuri, the nice guy living underground.

Lately, Mr. Garn hadn’t been coming by, so I was bored.

Only my meals were being delivered, so I wouldn’t starve to death, but I was bored.

I was bored.

It was important, so I said it twice.

“What happened to Mr. Garn?”

“That guy’s busy. Shut up and eat, prisoner.”

Eeeehhhh?

The food server had a terribly foul mouth and a blunt attitude.

He wouldn’t even look at me, keeping a sullen grimace on his face. It didn’t seem like we could become friends…

Feeling sad, I reached for my meal.

Steamed potatoes and scrap vegetable soup…

Shall I arrange this a little?

After drinking up the scrap vegetable soup, I picked up the steamed potato.

What I pulled out was starch.

I had secretly gotten some from Mr. Garn earlier.

Mixing the potato and the starch, I lit the stove and cooked them in a pot.

That was all there was to it.

These potato rice cakes—or potato cakes for short—were like a snack eaten in Hokkaido.

A chewy, springy texture combined with the sweetness of the potato. It was a dish I couldn’t get enough of.

Ideally, eating them with a soy sauce or miso glaze was best, but since I had none, I used them to wipe up the leftover soup and took a bite.

Mmm, I really wanted something more, though.

“Oh, you’re eating.”

Just as I was thinking that, Mr. Garn came over.

As usual, he held a drinking snack and fish sauce in his hands.

Mister, is that really acceptable work behavior for you?

“…Smells like something delicious again.”

“I have one left. Would you like to eat it?”

“Oh, I’ll take it then.”

“It tastes even better if you dip it in fish sauce.

So, please share some with me too.“

“You’re willing to bow down that much for it?”

Naturally. It was bland as it was.

Stepping closer, Mr. Garn held out the jar containing the fish sauce.

“Is this fine? Er, what’s that food called?”

“It’s called a potato cake. It’s a snack made by turning potatoes into a chewy rice-cake texture.”

“Potatoes again? Do you want to become a purveyor merchant to a whole kingdom or something?”

“Huh? Can I become one with just potato dishes?”

What a cheap world… If I spread instant cup ramen around, I feel like I could become the richest tycoon on the continent.

Ah, I’d like to try making instant preserved food, too. I’ll give it a shot next time.

“Yeah, if you have potato dishes this delicious, you probably could.”

“Then please spread the word for me, Mr. Garn.”

I had no intention of quitting the mercenary band.

Besides, potatoes grew anywhere (even in barren land), and their yield was decent, making them easy to obtain, so if they spread, wouldn’t famines disappear?

Just as I was thinking that, Mr. Garn grabbed the iron bars of the cell and glared intently at me.

Terrifying?!

“Are you seriously saying that?!”

“Yes. Once I’m free, I’ll teach you. Potato dishes, wild vegetable dishes, and so on. There aren’t many people I can cook with, so wouldn’t it be fun?”

Besides, when I cooked alone, Rir-san (the highball steak junkie) would secretly try to swap the dinner menu, so a watchdog was necessary.

The beef consumption was ridiculous, and I was at a loss.

“Do you not understand how much value this has?!”

“How much value… Delicious, sparking conversation, and filling the stomach. Isn’t that enough for food?”

Sure, restaurants had to prioritize profits to some extent, so I understood my view was an idealist one.

However, no one started a restaurant thinking “I’m going to profit! I’m going to get rich!” right from the start, right?

It was probably more like, “I want lots of customers to eat my food and say it’s delicious!”

“…So you’re that kind of guy.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but… I’m just me.”

“Understood. Enough.”

Saying that, Mr. Garn calmed down and released his grip on the iron bars.

Then he popped the potato cake into his mouth, looking frustrated.

“Damn it. Why do I have to monitor such a carefree guy? And why did I casually hand him a kitchen knife? It’s practically aiding a prison break. Yet he doesn’t break out. What a carefree idiot. And yet the food is delicious… This has that unique warmth of potatoes combined with a mysterious chewy texture. There’s no dryness to the potato at all, and it crumbles and melts right in the mouth. It’s even better when dipped in fish sauce. The saltiness and savory flavor are just right.”

“I’m sorry, but there was only one of those. I didn’t have enough ingredients.”

“I’ll bring you more! Make as much as you like! Gah, I’ve really gone soft. Why on earth did you get caught for knocking down the Lord’s wine glass anyway?”

“It’s simple.”

I mean, if you looked at it, you could tell.

“If he had brought that to his mouth as it was, the Lord probably would have collapsed and almost died.”

At those words, Mr. Garn’s gaze turned razor-sharp in an instant.

Super scary!

“What do you mean by that?”

Low, his tone of voice was incredibly low!

Eek, why is this man so angry?

“You don’t need to cower in fear. Tell me. If he drank that wine, could the Lord really have died?”

“W-Well, maybe not to the point of dying, but…”

“What is it? Were you able to identify poison placed in the wine?”

“N-No, it wasn’t the wine. It was the glass.”

“The glass? Don’t tell me, poison was smeared on it?!”

“Eek, n-no. It wasn’t poison. Even if someone used the same trick, it would only affect the Lord…”

“What did you say? Then is it a poisonous substance created through magi-engineering that only affects the Lord?”

“I-It’s nothing so grand.”

I said timidly.

“It’s because the Lord has a metal allergy, right?”

At those words, Mr. Garn froze solid.

“Wh… what did you say?”

“An allergy. Touching metal items causes his skin to break out in rashes. The skin turns red, holds heat, and the body gets itchy.”

“D-Don’t be ridiculous.”

Mr. Garn crossed his arms and said.

“The Lord has gripped a sword himself and ridden into battle. If holding an iron sword made him itchy, he wouldn’t even function.”

“Well, from what I saw, it’s not that severe of an allergy, but…”

“Besides, I’ve never heard of an illness where just wearing iron armor ruins a man.”

“It’s a matter of physical constitution. Besides, even among metals, there are specific ones that are less likely to trigger an allergic reaction under armor.”

“Huh?”

“Gold, silver, and so on… those have a weak metal allergy reaction.”

“Wait, wait. The wine glass that was dropped was made of silver. If what you say is true, an allergy or whatever shouldn’t occur with that.”

“That’s precisely why.”

I said while recalling that scene.

“The handle and the inside were plated with polished iron.”

You couldn’t tell unless you looked closely.

I just found it strange that the Lord’s hands were somehow red.

Then I realized the handle wasn’t silver, but iron.

The inside was also plated with iron.

In this world, where refining relied on magic tools or intuition rather than machinery like in modern Japan, there was no technology to remove allergenic substances, and even the technology to mix different metals to create alloys was rare.

If hot wine was poured into that and drunk, a terrible thing would happen.

The cause of metal allergies was metal ions leaching out from the metal and touching the skin.

Severe cases were caused by nickel and the like, though I didn’t remember the rest.

I had seen cases where nickel wasn’t removed sufficiently, leading to serious trouble. There were people who developed inflammation just from an iron necklace. Unless it was an iron cup made with modern steelmaking, you couldn’t eliminate the anxiety.

If it touched mucous membranes, it caused mucosal inflammation. If it entered the bloodstream, systemic dermatitis would occur.

If that happened, it would turn into a disaster. The body would suffer in pain and fever, writhing in agony.

In short, metal ions would leach out inside the glass where hot wine was poured.

Drinking that would cause inflammation in the throat and esophagus.

Far from that, there was even a danger of it spreading to the stomach and intestines.

And once that was digested and circulated throughout the entire body’s blood flow, it was game over.

It would become hopeless.

“B-But if what you say is true, those symptoms should have occurred earlier. He’s been using that since a week ago, you know.”

“That’s why it’s insidious. Allergies don’t improve unless one’s physical constitution changes. On the contrary, the body’s immune function overreacts to the metal ions that entered the body, gradually worsening over time. And then, one day, an allergic reaction severe enough to make a person collapse suddenly strikes.”

The reason I knew so much about this was because my father had gone through it.

He had a chipped tooth and had metal placed in it during dental treatment.

Then, one day out of nowhere, his whole body became intensely itchy!

He was rushed to the hospital and avoided serious danger, but after that, he had the dentist remove the metal and replace it with something else. This time, something that wouldn’t cause an allergy. It was flashy, shining gold.

Having finished listening to the full explanation, Mr. Garn was flustered.

“I can’t believe… such a thing was on the verge of happening.”

“Well, it’s simply a matter of not using that wine glass anymore. The person who gifted it probably didn’t know about it either, right?”

“…I can’t make a judgment on this alone. I’m going to consult with someone trustworthy and reliable.”

“Ah, is that so…?”

Do you really need to hold a conference over using a single wine glass?

“Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone else about this. Got it?”

“Huh? Yes.”

I didn’t quite understand, but he gave me a stern warning.

Well, even if I told other people, they probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

After all, I had just pulled from my memories back then and half-remembered knowledge.

However, I would come to learn that this issue was far larger than anything I had imagined.

It was the very next day.