Chapter : 36
The Bachelor Eats Dragon Steak
After buying dragon meat and other ingredients from the market, I returned to my apartment in the northern district.
“Ah.”
Just as I entered the building, I ran into Katarina at the entrance.
“Long time no see. Shopping trip?”
“Yeah. You too?”
“Something like that.”
She lifted the paper bag in her hand slightly, showing me its contents. The ingredients inside were all over the place, making it impossible to guess what she planned to cook.
Well, it’s not like she bought ingredients at random. She’s probably planning to use them along with what’s already in her refrigerator.
With that thought, we passed through the entrance together and started up the stairs.
Before we got to know each other, I would have ignored her or just greeted her lightly before heading straight to my room.
Or, I might have slowed down my pace so she could go ahead first.
But now, I had business dealings with Katarina, and she had even given me a magical artifact. After getting to know her, it became hard to pretend she didn’t exist.
As a result, the two of us now walked side by side, almost like a married couple, heading in the same direction — which made sense, since our apartments were right next to each other.
“…………”
An awkward silence hung between us.
Only the sound of our footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor.
Since Katarina was nothing more than a business associate, I didn’t feel any particular interest or affection toward her.
But, on top of that, the conversation I’d overheard in the “Sound Miniature Garden” she gave me — about that old man Selva and his scandal — made things even more awkward.
I’d stopped listening before the end because I sensed it would get messy, but I could tell it was probably something like an illegitimate child.
And Katarina, who was supposedly related to the man, didn’t know about it.
That left me with a strange, guilty feeling.
“Hey, that bundle in your right hand — it’s meat, isn’t it? What kind did you buy?”
She asked that to dispel the awkwardness, unaware of my complicated thoughts.
“Dragon meat.”
“What? Really!? Don’t tell me it’s your birthday or something?”
We’d already had this same conversation once before.
Knowing how this exchange would go, I sighed.
“No. And it’s not a friend’s or family member’s birthday either.”
“Then why did you buy it?”
I preempted her question, and she tilted her head curiously.
“I finished a big job, so it’s a reward for myself.”
“…………”
“Stop giving me that weird look. I can eat whatever I want in my own home.”
“Well… that’s true.”
Though she said that, Katarina looked slightly taken aback.
To keep the silence from growing any more awkward, I changed the topic.
“How’s the concert business going?”
“Thanks to you, the new song’s a hit. Every night’s sold out. You can’t even buy tickets on the same day anymore.”
“I see. That’s a bit of a problem.”
Lately, I’d been too busy to attend, but I’d grown to enjoy listening to her performances.
If I couldn’t just drop by anymore, that was inconvenient.
“…Would you like this?”
She handed me something.
“A premium seat ticket? Are you sure?”
It was an invitation ticket — not just any seat, but one of the best premium ones.
Completely different from the regular seat I usually sat in.
“You’re curious about how the song you gave me turned out, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah. But this must’ve cost a fortune. How much do I owe you?”
Even I wasn’t shameless enough to accept something that expensive for free.
“Don’t worry about it. I can get these seats for free now.”
Her confident smile told me everything — her fame had clearly skyrocketed thanks to that new song.
“I see. Then I’ll gratefully accept.”
“If you’d like, I can keep reserving one for you regularly.”
“That would help a lot.”
I preferred to attend the opera house on a whim, whenever I felt like listening. Having to research and book ahead wasn’t my style.
Having a seat always ready was, frankly, ideal.
After pocketing the ticket, we arrived at our doors.
“In exchange, I’ll count on you again when I need another song.”
“Sure.”
I nodded to her reminder and opened my door.
●
“Guess I should start dinner…”
While cleaning my apartment, I realized the sky outside had turned crimson.
Between Mill’s project and my work, I’d been too busy lately, and household chores had fallen behind.
I’d gotten carried away scrubbing every bit of dirt and grime, and before I knew it, the day was nearly over.
I quickly put away my cleaning tools and began preparing dinner.
Tonight’s main course: the dragon meat I bought at the market.
“Steak it is.”
Dragon meat has many possible uses, but the classic way to enjoy it is as steak.
I took the meat out of the fridge.
After checking the grain of the muscle fibers, I sliced it against the grain.
So thick… The resistance was completely different from ordinary meat.
I cut it into just the right portion — about 200 grams, one serving — and placed it on a tray.
The rest went back into the refrigerator.
The key to a perfect steak is letting the meat reach room temperature.
That way, the inside and outside heat evenly, and the surface doesn’t burn before the center cooks through.
While the meat warmed, I cut up some carrots, broccoli, and asparagus for side dishes.
Once those were ready and the meat had warmed enough, I returned to the main task.
I sprinkled both sides of the dragon steak generously with salt and pepper — since it was thick, seasoning only one side wouldn’t do.
On the magical stove, instead of my usual frying pan, I’d placed my prized cooking tool — the “Adult’s Iron Plate.”
It had become a hot topic in the capital with the slogan: “Turn orc meat into orc king flavor.”
At 20,000 sol per plate, it was expensive for a mere slab of iron, but the flavor it produced was worth every coin.
A tool for adults who want to savor the full potential of their ingredients.
Thinly sliced garlic was already sizzling on it, cooking in dragon fat.
Just that alone guaranteed deliciousness.
Once the garlic turned golden brown, I set it aside. The leftover dragon fat would become my garlic oil — perfect for the steak.
I had no plans to meet anyone tonight, and tomorrow was my day off.
No reason to worry about smelling like garlic.
I placed the dragon meat onto the iron plate.
Shhhhhhh…
It wasn’t a violent sizzle, but a soft, deep sound that seemed to soak into the air.
That sound alone told me the meat was cooking beautifully.
After adjusting the flame and flipping the steak, the surface turned a perfect seared brown.
I pressed it lightly with a spatula and cooked the other side the same way.
The heat wasn’t as aggressive as a frying pan, but it penetrated steadily and evenly.
When the underside was done, I rotated the steak to sear the edges, letting it soak up the juices and garlic oil.
“…Coating every inch with flavor.”
Cooking on an iron plate was deeply satisfying. Unlike a frying pan, I could see the meat cooking slowly, deliberately.
It made me feel more connected to the process — almost like I was the chef at a teppanyaki restaurant.
Once all sides were seared, I moved the steak to the edge of the plate and let it finish cooking from residual heat under a lid.
While it rested, I tossed the side vegetables in the leftover meat juice and garlic oil.
No way they could turn out anything less than amazing.
I checked the steak’s firmness by pressing it with the spatula — a matter of experience and intuition.
“This should do…”
Satisfied with the doneness, I moved it back to the center for a final crisp sear.
Then, I set it on the cutting board and sliced it into bite-sized pieces — revealing a perfect, juicy pink center.
The sight alone made me swallow.
I plated the dragon steak alongside the grilled vegetables.
“Done.”
A magnificent dragon steak sat before me.
Slightly rare, tender enough to melt at a touch.
Before cutting it, the meat had looked tough, but appearances can be deceiving.
I carried it to the living room table and prepared the rest of the tableware.
Now, for the drink — red wine.
“Hmm? None?”
I checked the cabinet, but my favorite bottle was gone.
“Damn. I finished it two nights ago.”
Right — I’d drunk it all during a late-night drink session. I’d completely forgotten to buy more.
If I’d remembered, I would’ve restocked.
Too distracted by the dragon meat, apparently.
But going out now was out of the question. Leaving a freshly cooked steak to buy wine was unthinkable.
I had plenty of whiskey and my Bubbles Chalice for making sparkling drinks, so I could make a highball — but steak deserved red wine.
“Hmm… what else do I have—ah!”
There was one leftover bottle, but it was a light, delicate wine I didn’t particularly like.
I’d bought it before, tried it once, and left it untouched ever since.
It was still perfectly fine to drink, but pairing it as-is felt boring.
“Guess I’ll make a spritzer rouge.”
Basically, red wine mixed with sparkling water.
The carbonation softens the tannins and gives a crisp, refreshing flavor — almost like a grape cocktail.
Ever since I got the Bubbles Chalice, I’d wanted to try making one.
It felt wasteful to do it with my favorite wine, so now was the perfect chance.
I took a chilled glass from the fridge, dropped in some ice, stirred lightly with a muddler, poured in a little red wine, then topped it with carbonated water made from the chalice — careful not to let the bubbles touch the ice.
The fizz rose gently, blending the liquids naturally. I gave it a final swirl with the muddler.
The spritzer rouge was ready.
“Well then — time to eat.”
Everything was in place. I cut a piece of dragon steak and ate it plain.
The moment I bit down, the meat parted easily, flooding my mouth with rich, savory juices.
It had the strength of beef without any gaminess, and none of the heavy fat of pork — just pure, powerful flavor.
“…Delicious. Just like the shopkeeper said, nothing like the foreleg meat.”
Even after twenty years, I remembered that first taste of dragon meat vividly.
But one bite of this tail steak blew that memory away.
It was that good.
Probably because the tail muscles work often — firm but laced with soft, flavorful fat.
After a piece of steak, I sipped the spritzer rouge.
The carbonation refreshed my throat, the bitterness of the wine mellowed, tasting almost like a grape cocktail.
It cut through the rich fat perfectly, leaving a pleasant aftertaste.
“…Not bad at all.”
With the alcohol lightened and tannins softened, it paired beautifully with the intense flavor of the tail steak.
Between sips, I munched on the carrots, broccoli, and asparagus — each soaked with dragon juices and garlic oil.
Even a vegetable hater would eat these happily.
Finally, with a refreshed palate, I picked up my fork again.
“Ahh… the flavor melts away my daily stress.”
It wasn’t my birthday.
It wasn’t anyone else’s either.
But who needs a reason to eat something delicious?
When you want to eat, you eat what you want, when you want.
That’s what it means to live as a bachelor nobleman.
