"Please, I'll pay as much as you want, just sell my wife the cooking skill!"

A man with a deeply chiseled face pleaded with tearful eyes.

He gripped my hands tightly, his expression desperate, and I instinctively recoiled.

Why has it come to this?

It all started with a summons from the Champion to whom I had previously sold the “Monster Magnet” skill.

Curious about how things had turned out, I visited his home, where I met a man who seemed to be an acquaintance. The Champion asked me to hear him out.

I agreed, thinking it was just a conversation... and now here we are.

"W-what exactly is going on here?"

Overwhelmed by the man's intense aura, I reminded myself that I'd survived many harrowing situations before. I couldn't let this rattle me.

"Leon Dold and I are best friends. We used to fight side-by-side in the arena. He’s the one who told me about you."

Leon Dold... that's the Champion's name, right? Since he's from the arena, this guy must be just as brawny and muscular.

His hair is cut short, and his eyes are unnecessarily large. His wild, beast-like face seems more animal than man.

Being loomed over by that massive frame and face is incredibly intimidating. It's suffocating.

"Champion, didn't I ask you to keep the skill-selling secret?"

"Yeah, but you said it was okay to tell one person I really trust, right?"

He replied cheerfully, reclining on the sofa without a hint of guilt.

His hairstyle, a light brown nearly golden mane resembling a lion's, contrasts sharply with the intense man next to him.

"...Fine. Please explain things in order."

"Right. First off, the name’s Conguis. And my request is to grant my lovely newlywed wife a cooking skill!"

He's passionately shaking his fist as he makes his plea, but I really wish people would stop asking for skills over things like this. Anyone can improve their cooking with a bit of practice.

"Well, why not ask someone to teach her how to cook, or hire a maid? That’d be cheaper than buying a skill from me."

"Of course I considered that! But this goes way beyond that! The meals at home are! She insists on making everything by hand... I try to get by with eating out sometimes, but I can't do that every day... I appreciate the love, I really do, but it's just so bad. Seriously, reaaaally baaaaad!"

He collapsed face-down onto the table, sobbing like a child.

Okay, I think I’m starting to get the picture. So basically...

"You're saying your wife is a terrible cook?"

"Exactly! Why won’t she measure ingredients?! We’ve got tons of cookbooks! A tablespoon is not a ladle! Can’t she see that by looking at the recipe?! Stop putting fruit in simmered fish as an 'arrangement'! Adding sugar to fix a salty dish doesn’t bring the flavor back!"

His desperate cries really hit hard.

He’s not lying or exaggerating—he’s genuinely suffering.

Normally, seeing your husband struggle to eat your food would make someone try to improve... could it be?

"Have you told your wife that her cooking isn’t good?"

"What are you talking about? How could I say something like that to my adorable wife who puts so much love into her cooking?"

He says it proudly, puffing out his chest, but that doesn’t help. I bet he just forces himself to smile and says “it’s delicious” even when it’s not. No wonder nothing improves.

I glanced at the Champion for support. He silently handed me a metal container.

"This is his wife's cooking. I couldn’t believe it myself, so I had him bring some. I haven’t opened it yet, by the way... Honestly, I’m too scared. And for something to shake this guy—who’s afraid of nothing—that’s saying something."

To intimidate a seasoned Champion… that’s impressive.

My “Instinct” skill has been sounding alarms non-stop, which is extremely concerning. But I can’t back down here. This is a request from a regular client.

The Champion placed his hand on the lid of the container and stared at me. I nodded slowly. The lid was flung open with a snap.

"Ugh!"

"Gah!"

A foul stench spread instantly. The eye-burning stench was overwhelming.

This is dangerous! Activating: “Poison Resistance,” “Barrier,” and “Endurance” skills!

"My tears won’t stop! What the hell is this?!"

"Idiot! Don’t open it in a room with no ventilation!"

We scrambled to open every door and window, leaning halfway out the windows to gasp for air.

I only took one breath, but the Champion must’ve inhaled a lot when he screamed—he looked pale. Conguis, maybe used to it, just coughed a bit but seemed fine.

"Man, it’s been ages since I cried. Even when monsters sprayed me with venom, I held strong."

"Sorry... Lately, regular cooking hasn’t been enough for her, so she’s started using monsters in her exotic dishes. This is the result."

"Are you sane...?"

"Sadly, she honestly thinks it’s delicious."

Both the Champion and I were left speechless by Conguis’s reply.

This isn’t an “arrangement” anymore. It’s attempted murder.

"Did you do something to make her resent you?"

"It’s not poison, I swear."

He answered immediately, but there was a shadow over his face. Even if he says that, anyone would be suspicious if served something like this.

"Does your wife eat this too?"

"She... eats it without batting an eye."

"N-no way..."

"R-really?"

The Champion and I exchanged glances, both wearing the same bewildered expression.

I probably had the same look on my face too.

After confirming the smell had mostly dissipated thanks to the open windows, I cautiously approached the container.

Thanks to the barrier skill, the smell was now blocked. No more nasty odor.

Maybe it just smelled terrible but looked totally fine? Maybe we overreacted?

Clinging to that faint hope, I peeked inside—only to find... a portal to the demon world.

Of course, that can’t be true. But there’s no other way to describe it.

What kind of ingredients would create this? A purple, sticky-looking sauce? That's somehow bubbling and bursting?

At the center of what can only be described as a poisonous swamp was a ring. Like a hole in the earth, from which countless tentacle-like objects, hands, and feet were trying to crawl out.

Are those roasted animal limbs? The tentacles—are those... pasta?

"This is black magic..."

"According to my wife, it's ‘Paradise Happiness Special.’"

Conguis murmured behind me, sounding utterly exhausted.

Paradise...? Huh? Doesn’t this require not just a “Cooking” skill but also an “Art” skill?

"Is your wife... from the demon realm, by any chance?"

"She’s human! I think... probably..."

He shouted at first, but his voice trailed off as if he lost confidence halfway through.

He seemed to be seriously questioning it now, tilting his head and groaning in thought.

"C'mon, be confident. Maybe it's just the smell and appearance. The taste might not be that bad."

No way. If this actually tastes good, I’ll give away all my skills for free. There’s just no way.

Actually, didn't Conguis firmly declare that it was inedible?

“There’s just one thing I want to say. You won’t die. Yes, you won’t die.”

If there's anyone who can feel reassured after being told something like that with such a pained expression, I highly recommend they start visiting a clinic.

After seeing this creation, the fact that I felt even a momentary sense of relief that I wouldn't die is terrifying. That’s how abnormal the grotesqueness of this dish—if you can even call it that—is.

Just looking at it like this makes me feel like my spirit is being chipped away.

“If it won’t kill me, then there’s no problem. I’ve eaten monster meat plenty of times.”

With that, he scooped it up with a spoon and boldly tossed it into his mouth.

As expected of a man with the skill ‘Fortitude.’ He doesn’t flinch at anything.

He took it into his mouth and began chewing... then froze completely.

“Um, Champion? What’s wrong?”

I called out to him, but got no response. His limbs and mouth didn’t so much as twitch.

His eyes were staring into space... No pupils. He’s rolled his eyes back and passed out.

“Well, yeah, this is what happens. I’ve gradually gotten used to it, so I can barely endure it. But if your first bite is of an evolved version of the dish, this is what it’ll do to you.”

Conguis, nodding solemnly, looked truly pitiful.

So that’s why this guy’s ‘Poison Resistance’ is so high...

At this point, maybe we should just embrace it and start selling it as poison instead.

“I see now, loud and clear. But this goes beyond just being bad at cooking. Could it be that she has some kind of negative skill? Didn’t you ask to see her skill certificate?”

The skill certificate is a document issued by the temple that lists a person’s skills. It’s highly confidential, as the text only appears when the holder focuses on it while holding the document.

“I thought of that too, so I asked her to show it to me... but she resisted. Flat out refused to show it.”

Things are getting strange.

Even in ordinary families, people undergo an ‘Appraisal’ to understand their skills by the age of ten. It would be one thing if she came from extreme poverty and never had it done, but...

“Pardon me, but was your wife perhaps in an environment where she couldn’t receive an appraisal?”

“No way. Her background checks out. She was introduced by someone I trust.”

So she just doesn’t want to show her skills.

In that case, the solution is simple.

“Then, let’s hold a home party here tomorrow and invite your wife. During that time, I’ll appraise her skills myself.”

“Hey, don’t go deciding that on your own.”

“It’s for your friend’s sake, isn’t it?”

“Sorry, Leon Dold. I owe you one!”

With his hands pressed together in a pleading gesture, the Champion gave his approval.

This should settle things by tomorrow. If she has an undesirable skill—what’s known as a negative skill—I’ll just buy it off her.

I’ve bought up plenty of cooking skills already, so selling off a few won’t be an issue.

Then, as payment for using the place, I’ll provide a supreme feast tomorrow using my own ‘Cooking’ skill.