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HC: Handyman | Ch. 157 - 'Pressure' Cooking
🕑 Added 2025-02-11 11:09:39 +0000 UTCThe bears’ gazes bore into Jack. He could feel them weighing their odds, measuring whether attacking Snowy was worth it.
Jack tightened his grip on a Molotov cocktail in one hand and the ocarina in the other, mentally running through his options. If he could rush past them, put the traps between himself and the bears, and rejoin the others, they might just have a chance at fighting them off.
Snowy, however, didn’t share his apprehensions.
She kept moving. No hesitation. No shift in pace. Her massive body lumbered forward, utterly unfazed, as if the bears weren’t even worth acknowledging.
The hesitation on their part was immediate—shoulders tensed, claws flexed, nostrils flaring as they processed the situation. Then, in a move that made Jack’s heart skip a beat, they exchanged a look and backed off. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they withdrew into their dens.
“Snowy’s so big now that even the bears don’t want to mess with us,” he muttered, half in disbelief, half in giddy excitement. A grin spread across his face. “Maybe not even an allosaurus would dare if we ran into one.”
Riding atop Snowy, Jack felt invincible. Nothing could touch him.
As they rounded the bend past the bears' den, the field of traps and the fortress came into view. He checked the time—ten minutes to spare.
Huh? What are they doing here?
His eyes landed on Amari and Marie, standing atop the carriage with weapons drawn.
For a split second, Jack thought they were preparing for the incoming elite wave. Then he caught their expressions—wide eyes, slackened jaws. Marie, in particular, looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe.
Jack smirked. They weren’t here for the wave. They must have heard the commotion and thought the fortress was under attack. Snowy's stomping must have echoed through the mountains like an approaching army.
He nudged Snowy along, closing the distance to the trap field before unsummoning her. The massive sloth vanished in a puff of smoke. Jack hit the ground running.
Dash!
The skill propelled him forward, feet barely touching the ground as he weaved through the traps, then leaped onto the carriage.
“Hey, guys! Looks like the bears weren’t the only ones drawn in by the noise.”
“I read the description of the package,” Amari said. “But I never imagined the effects would be this extreme.”
Jack didn’t slow. He hopped off the carriage, mind already racing through the next problem. Would it be faster to start a new fire here or sprint to the fortress and back?
A quick glance told him the answer. He bolted toward the fire already burning.
“Shall we talk while I make you guys a meal?” Jack called back over his shoulder.
That seemed to snap Amari and Marie out of their daze.
“Right. Right. After you!”
Jack ran the rest of the way to the fire.
Esther had gathered even more pots around herself, while Christoff sat perfectly still, staring into the flames in quiet concentration. Beside him, two full quivers rested against a rock—he’d finished restocking.
Jack barely spared them a glance. He grabbed two pots, set them over the fire, and filled one with water. The other, he let heat up with a blob of fat, tossing in extra fuel to strengthen the flames. The fire crackled as he flicked through his inventory, selecting three pickling jars.
He started draining vinegar from the jars, using the lid to keep the ingredients inside the jar. He was mid-pour when Marie’s voice startled him.
“Jack, what’s the new species of your mount? Where did you get the package? Were there more pinecones? What does the new description say?”
His fingers slipped. The lid wobbled in his grasp, and a handful of pickled chaga mushrooms nearly tumbled into the dirt.
“Uh—” He caught them just in time, steadying his grip. “One sec—”
Once he’d drained all three jars, he dumped the ingredients into the hot pot—sautéed romie meat, mushrooms, and forest herbs. The sharp sting of vinegar filled the air, burning his nose, but as the heat worked its magic, the scent mellowed. A richer, caramelized aroma began to bloom.
Amari stepped closer. “Jack. Just tell us the species’ name, at least. Is it Eremotherium?” His voice was unusually firm.
“Is it? Is it Eremotherium?” Marie added.
Jack stirred the sizzling ingredients, brow furrowing. “The name’s a bit different. Look, I—” He exhaled sharply. “I cannot cook and answer twenty questions at the same time.” Without looking up, he flicked his wrist, forwarding his notifications to both of them. “Here. Read for yourselves.”
Silence. Then hushed murmuring.
Jack exhaled in relief. Finally. A reprieve.
He grabbed the pot of now-warm water and poured it over the ingredients. Steam erupted in a thick cloud, momentarily obscuring his vision as he clamped the lid down.
They were cutting it close. He checked the time—they’d make it. Barely.
Now, with a brief window to breathe, Jack finally turned to Amari and Marie.
Neither of them looked at him with the previous curiosity or excitement. Their expressions were different—off. Marie’s lip quivered as if she were on the verge of tears, her gaze darting away the moment his met hers. Amari, meanwhile, was smiling, but the expression was tight, forced. It didn’t reach their eyes.
Jack frowned. What’s wrong with these two?
“I still can’t believe it. It’s a freaking Eremotherium,” Marie muttered, shaking her head. “It shouldn’t be possible.”
“Pseudo-Eremotherium,” Amari corrected. “The ‘pseudo’ is important.”
Jack’s stomach sank. “Wait. Is that bad for me?”
Amari let out a sharp exhale, like Jack had just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “Bad? He really doesn’t have a clue.”
Marie sighed dramatically. “The lucky, ignorant duck.”
Jack’s confusion only deepened. “You already knew the species,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Then why the relentless questioning?”
Amari crossed their arms. “Forgive us for being a little stunned, but Eremotheriums are usually only available after level 40. We had a hard time processing how you got your hands on one at level 20.”
Jack’s brows shot up. “Really?” He’d already been thrilled about Snowy’s transformation, but judging by their reactions, he had massively underestimated how big of a deal this was.
Marie leaned forward. “Do you know how much one of these sells for? One thousand gold.”
Jack nearly dropped the ladle. “Wait. What? A thousand gold?!” His jaw hung open. That was two months’ rent. “I—I don’t believe it.” His head spun. “But wait. If this mount is usually reserved for level 40 and above, how come I can ride it already?”
Amari smirked. “Because you somehow got a lite version of the mount.”
“A true Eremotherium would have a couple more skills,” Marie added, “but yours only has two, and they’re locked behind very high affection. That’s going to take a lot of effort. The higher your affection, the slower it progresses.”
Jack’s excitement dimmed slightly. “So… you’re telling me that even though I somehow got a high-tier mount way ahead of schedule, I still have to grind for its skills?”
“Bingo.” Amari pointed at him. “But you did get the extra inventory space and movement speed boost. You can already benefit from those, and those alone are worth it.”
Jack exhaled. He’d take that as a win. Then, a thought struck him. “Wait. The ‘pseudo’ thing. Is this change permanent? Or will Snowy only stay like this inside the Breach?”
Amari tapped his chin. “I think it’s permanent. Remember when I said we’d scour the map for hidden packages? Well, I also mentioned that hidden aid packages aren’t the only rewards out there. Sometimes, there are permanent benefits that carry over to the outside world.”
Jack scratched his chin. “Yeah, I remember you saying something like that.”
Now that he thought about it—if there were hidden aid packages, why wouldn’t there be hidden reward ones too? He also remembered the pottery recipe he’d gotten from the One-Eyes and the pelt mantle he was wearing—both of which would stick with him even after he left the Breach.
The lid on the pot began to shake as the progress bar hit 100%. Jack hurried over, gripping the pot, and pulled it off the fire. As he lifted the lid, a rush of steam billowed out, carrying a complex aroma—bold, layered, and unexpectedly appetizing.
Inside, the broth shimmered with a deep amber hue, thickened slightly by the slow infusion of ingredients. Bright flecks of pickled mountain sorrel floated in the stew; their green edges softened to a golden-olive tint. The chaga mushrooms had deepened into rich, dark swirls, lending the liquid an almost tea-like depth. The meat had a pinker tone than usual—maybe from the pickling process.
Congratulations! You’ve crafted [Survival Stew].
+1000XP in [Bushcraft]
Crafting grade: B
Ingredients: [Pickled Ischyromys Meat], [Pickled Mountain Sorrel], [Pickled Chaga Mushroom].
Item description: A nutritious, tasty meal made from ingredients gathered in the wild.
Item effects:
+1 stamina per second for five minutes.
+1 HP per second for five minutes.
Tree Climber: +15 jump for 30 minutes.
Woodland Vitality: +100 HP and stamina for 30 minutes.
Forest Strength: +5 defense for 15 minutes.
A B-grade! Jack couldn’t recall ever getting such a high grade for cooking. Most of his food crafting hovered around C-rank at best.
He blinked at the impressive list of buffs. He’d expected some bonuses, sure, but the way these ingredients had come together created something far beyond what he usually managed. Maybe it was because he’d used pickled ingredients—the pickling process had concentrated their traits, making them more potent than they would have been fresh. Or perhaps it was simply how well they synergized.
Either way, he wasn’t about to complain. This would make fighting the next wave so much easier.
He grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the pot, careful to get a little of each ingredient. Blowing on the thick stew, he took a bite. The first thing that hit his tongue was the brightness of the vinegar—a tangy punch that quickly mellowed into the rich umami of the meat. The pickled sorrel had softened, but its citrusy undertone still lingered, cutting through the heavier flavors and keeping the broth from feeling too dense. The chaga mushroom added a subtle bitterness, an almost coffee-like depth that balanced out the acidity. The stew was layered, each taste rolling into the next.
Jack grinned. This was leagues better than anything he’d cooked before.
Satisfied, he started serving. “Sorry it took a while. Here,” he said, handing a bowl to Amari.
Amari took it, still a little jealous of how Jack had managed to unlock such a strong upgrade, but the scent of the stew softened his expression. As soon as Jack gave him the bowl, Amari dug in, scooping up a spoonful and taking a bite. His expression shifted almost immediately.
“Hmm. Wow! Your cooking keeps getting better and better! Good man!”
Jack smirked. “Guess I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Wait! We’re not done yet.” Marie leaned in eagerly. “Did you see any other pinecones? Maybe if our horses could eat one…”
Jack paused mid-pour. “I… didn’t. Sorry.” He handed a bowl to Christoff.
“Where did you find the tree, then?” Amari asked. “Maybe if we survive long enough, it’ll spawn more fruit.”
Jack hesitated. He thought back to Snowy gleefully ripping the entire pine tree in half before swallowing the remains.
His stomach sank. Yeah… that isn’t happening.
“Uh… I don’t know if that’s possible,” Jack said carefully. “But I found it in the forest.”
Marie blinked. “Wait. What? The forest?” She pointed down the road. “That one?”
“Yes. I—”
Marie let out a horrified screech. “NOOOOOOO!”
Jack flinched as she threw herself onto the ground, thrashing like a kid mid-tantrum.
“You’re telling me the pinecone was under my nose this whole time, and I missed it?!”
“Uh…” Jack hesitated. “It wasn’t technically under your nose. It was up in the trees. I would’ve missed it too if it weren’t for Snowy. She spotted it, started climbing, and—”
“Wait!” Marie shot upright, eyes narrowing. “Are you telling me you didn’t find it?” She pointed a finger at him, accusatory. “It was your sloth?”
Jack blinked. “…Yeah?”
Before he could react, Marie grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward so abruptly he almost spilled her stew. She was shockingly strong for such a short girl.
“Alone?” she demanded. “With no effort on your part?”
Jack hesitated. “…I wouldn’t put it that way, but—”
She let go, dramatically collapsing back onto the ground.
“WHY?! WHY?! WHYYYY?!” she wailed, pounding the dirt with her fists.
Jack stood there awkwardly, holding a bowl in one hand, waiting for her outburst to subside.
That was when Horace came sprinting through the gate.
“I made it! I made it! Hey, guys!” he called out, out of breath. “Save some stew for me!”
Marie immediately snapped upright, straightening her back like nothing had happened. She dusted herself off, composed herself, and took the bowl from Jack’s hand with the grace of a noblewoman.
Jack and Amari exchanged looks. Then, at the exact same time, they burst out laughing.
Comments
Joi Wilson
Even if plain pickling doesn’t count, his 3 pickled ingredient stew should??
Cássio Ferreira
That's a very good question! I had forgotten about that. Thank you for that insightful comment!
ByLAWphoto
I just remembered the deal he made with...the bushcrafter with the monkey whose name I forget. Is "pickling the stuff" enough of a tip that he should tell her?
ByLAWphoto
I mean, if grass respawns, then trees could, too, right? admittedly, it's a super rare item so not likely, but anything's possible. hang in there, Marie!
