Before I tore through the fabric of time and space to save the people I loved. Before I attended, perhaps, the most chaotic wedding in the history of the universes. Before I made a deal with a sultry, mature female devil (caught your attention, did that?).

Before any of that…I woke up in a strange room inside an inn.

Now, I know that doesn’t sound that interesting. You’ve read a million stories with a protagonist who wakes up in a strange place and…everything that follows. But trust me, this one is different. Because…well…it’s real? Does that change things? Maybe? You probably don’t believe me, do you? That’s fine, though. It’s better that way.

Focus on the sultry, mature female devil. How about that? One day, she will appear. And when she does, it’ll be so cool. Right? I will make sure to describe her in perfect detail! Promise. Every inch…

Anyway, the room in the inn. We really need to get back on track.

There was no sunlight, which was a given, since the windows were boarded up. And I don’t mean small, simple windows. Sitting up on the soft, fluffy mattress of the bed, I looked to my right to see massive windows. Going right from the floor to the ceiling, and all blocked with black slabs of something.

Thankfully, there was still light. A chandelier illuminated the room just enough for me to be able to check my immediate surroundings. The bed was small, but so was most of the room. Not extravagant, but also not cramped. Just functional. A desk next to the bed, a couple of wooden bookshelves to the front, and a makeup table on the left wall.

“Innkeeper!”

A loud male voice boomed from behind me. Through the door nearby, followed by loud bangs on the wood.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

“Innkeeper, are you there?” The voice demanded attention. Mainly by being even louder than the constant knocks. “It has been far too long, and I’m finally going to lose it. Open the damn door and get us some breakfast!”

“What the fuck?” I whispered, shaking my head.

Don’t get me wrong. I was rattled, confused, unsure of the situation. All of that. But there was something about an overbearing voice that broke through those emotions to allow the panic to set in. Scrambling off the bed and falling to the hardwood flooring, I groaned in pain without thinking.

“Ah! I hear you. I finally hear you, innkeeper! Don’t try to shoo me off now. It’s about time you stopped starving us and actually gave your patrons some good service!”

I pushed myself up, using one of the cold black slabs as support. It took a second or two for me to adjust to the height and size of the room around me. There was nothing inhuman about it, but the fact that it was very obviously a medieval look certainly threw me off enough. The banging got louder, and the panic turned to frustration. Almost a slight rage at the constant interruption of my thought process.

Without halting to check anything else, I made my way through the room and got to the door. It was on the same wall as the bed, which would not have been my first preference. But then again, being in a random medieval room while being harassed by an angry, hungry man was maybe my…sixty-fourth preference.

The first three being reborn as a rich princess, becoming a cool spy who is immortal so that I don’t die doing my job, and a mirror world where I can do whatever I want without repercussions. Respectively. And for that last one…respectfully. I wouldn’t do anything particularly…weird. Weird of you to go there. Weirdo.

Back to the point. At least this was higher than my sixty-fifth preference, which was to be reincarnated as an environmentally friendly paper bag that could control its size at will and thus become the perfect inventory and then defeat the Demon Lord. So, that’s something.

Back to the point squared. I opened the door.

The man who faced me did not face me at all. Not until I turned my gaze downwards to find a dwarf as the culprit of the noise. And yes, I could describe him to you. But…just think ‘dwarf’. What comes to mind? Long beard, kinda chubby, looks old even if he is twenty. That kinda dwarf.

“Innkeeper! Aha! I have finally caught you, and you cannot escape from your culinary duties anymore.”

“Uh…who are you, and what is this place?”

“Huh?” The dwarf stroked his beard, shaking his head. “Why, this is the Northflame Inn. You brought me here, didn’t you? And now you’re the one asking me where you are. Hit your head, did ya, innkeeper?”

I don’t know what possessed me to be a sarcastic smartass in that moment, but just the fact that he had been so rude with the loud noise was enough justification. I lightly hit myself on the head with a fist, making a dumb face to go with it, “Well, whaddaya know? Probably did. Just get to the point. Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Innkeepers these days. Just want to get people in the inn, and then not treat them well. My name is Poltrick Gregson, and I will not accept any more disrespect like that, innkeeper. Are you gonna make me and that young, sweet lady some breakfast, or are you not?”

“It’s daytime. I see. And you want breakfast, so you came to the innkeeper. Who is…of course…me. How dull of me to forget. What do you want this bright, beautiful, extremely well-lit morning, sir?”

“Now we’re talking! How about some toast, for beginners?”

“Oh. Well, you cut a slice of bread, put some butter on both sides, and then throw it in a pan. Easy work.”

“Ah, well. I see.” He nodded, and then took a step back before turning to walk back down the corridor, “No, wait! You make the damn toast! Why should a patron of the Northflame Inn make his breakfast himself?”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Gregson. I don’t know what possessed me to say all that. But really, as you might notice….I am not the innkeeper. Leave me alone. Please.”

The dwarf growled. And I don’t mean to be metaphorical or something. He growled. Stroking his beard as if it were his version of breathing, he looked me in the eye and then at the door that I had swung open before snapping right back at me once more. To give him some validation and not have to look at his angry eyes any longer, I did the same.

Unfortunately for me, a small gold marker on the door very much said – Innkeeper’s Room.

“Ouch.” I looked back at him with pity. “Alright, Mr. Gregson. That is completely my fault. But I must admit that I just woke up in here, and I have no idea what is going on. Like, I promise that I am not the innkeeper. And I don’t even know what this place is. I did not check into any inn. I did not teleport willingly to whatever world. I don’t even remember dying to get over here. Like…I hardly remember what I was doing before I died. I hope I didn’t die in my apartment. It’s gonna be ages before anyone even ope-”

“Well, innkeeper, you’re not dead. The proof very much being that you’re pathetic at lying. Now, make me and the young lady some breakfast, or we are going to sue this establishment. And the administration of this kingdom will show you precisely what you get for being such a horrible host!”

“Look, I don’t care.” I shrugged, closing the door behind me as I stepped out. “I. Am. Not. Your. Innkeeper. Got that?”

For once, Poltrick felt threatened. Stepping back to get away, he moved to the other side of the corridor. Behind me was a wall, which meant that the Innkeeper’s Room was probably the last room in this space. By all means, I was the one who was trapped in here. Still, there was some power in having caused him to step back.

“B-but you wear the innkeeper’s clothes! That is the uniform for all innkeepers throughout the world!”

“No, I am…” I looked down at myself. “…oh.”

Where there should have been an oversized hoodie and some shorts was a blue dress. It wasn’t very flashy or flowing, but just like the room…it was functional. A rough, slightly thick material had been used to make the entire outfit, with smoother, silkier white collar and wrist cuffs. There was also a complete lack of pattern, which certainly did not help. The dress as a whole, to say the least, was maybe in the late three-hundreds of the preference scale.

“Yeah. How’s that for blind proof, innkeeper!? Now, set the record straight. Are you going to make us breakfast, or are you not?”

“I am still not.” I looked up, raising my eyebrows. “Let’s be real. Some perv put me into this nothing dress, and now you want me to do whatever you say?”

“Alright. That’s it. How about you just come out and say it, innkeeper? You just do not know how to cook. That’s it. The young lady and I will starve rather than force you to make us burnt toast and tasteless omelets. No need to cower behind your lack of skill, you fraud!”

“Whoa, hey!”

Now…pause. Look. Yours truly might not look like she amounts to much. And by all means…she really doesn’t. But if there’s one thing that Laura Mason can do? She can cook. I didn’t spend the last year in culinary school followed by my current stint as an intern at a popular local restaurant just so that some stupid fucking dwarf with a communication problem stemming from the ego as massive as his fat stomach in some inn with window problems could question the Laura Mason’s cooking skills in such a pathetic manner, alright?

What I’m trying to say is…

“You want toast and omelets, Mr. Gregson? I’ll give you some fucking toast and omelets.”

I started walking. Past the dwarf, and straight to the very first door that was accessible on the same right-hand side as all the other doors. Opening it, I peered in, only to be met with a vaguely familiar sight. Then, I embarrassingly closed the door before seeing the golden marker on it.

“That is the…women’s washroom, innkeeper.”

“I…know.” I cleared my throat before turning and continuing to walk. “I was just doing my innkeeper duties.”

“Sure, innkeeper. The kitchen is straight and to the-”

“No!” I stopped and turned midway to stop the dwarf. “I’ll figure out, Gregson. I do not need your help.”

“Well. True. Hard to miss the kitchen of the Northflame.”

I kept walking. Right after the women’s washroom was the men’s washroom. And at the end of the corridor was an open doorframe that led to a different room. Considering that I could see round tables and chairs in there, though, I decided that that wasn’t my destination either. And so, I turned the only way I could. Left.

The first thing I saw? Well…it’s complicated.

Right in front of me was a girl my age. Smooth brown hair accentuated her monstrously fair skin. Without blemishes or imperfections, her kind, innocent face gasped at my sight. She wore a simple white dress very similar to my own, but without any accent colors. The only thing on them were some embroidered patterns that were not completely visible, but still managed to stand out.

Ultimately, she herself was the greatest decoration she needed. Not to mention – long, pointed horizontal ears. Elf. Elf. Real elf girl. She looked cute, and awesome, and really cool, and I had all reason to jump up and down after being greeted by the gruff looks of Poltrick Gregson. I should have celebrated in glee at the fact that this was indeed a perfect fantasy world. Elf girl! Wheeeeeeeeee…..

I walked past her.

No acknowledgement. No smile. I did not even notice her much at all, really.

Because I saw something far, far more beautiful.

It took a millisecond for the kitchen that I laid my eyes on to nullify all my rage. To my right, a short walk after the turn, was a humongous open kitchen. You could fit a room and a half of the Innkeeper’s Room in here. And it had everything you could ever need. Utensils perfectly hanging on one end, and cabinets everywhere else. Ingredients lying all around in baskets or containers. Not to mention the aesthetics of it were on point. Stone and marble lined every platform with different, similarly beautiful tools lying in wait.

Laura Mason held her breath. For a second, the fact that she was in some weird isekai inn escaped her mind. My mind, I mean. Just imagining it again puts me in a trance that is difficult to escape. In that moment, however, the beauty was not enough to wipe the anger that had brought me here. It came back, and it came back just right.

“Is that the innkeeper?” The elf girl asked in a soft voice.

I made my way into the kitchen and immediately picked up two of the pans on the wall. Setting them on the stove, I turned it on. It was slightly awkward, now that I look back, how I did not immediately question the existence of cooking gas in this world. But it existed, and it was very much familiar to me. There was no need to learn the science of the flames, at least.

“That’s the innkeeper, alright. And I’ve convinced her to finally cook us some breakfast. So many days spent hungry!”

“Thank you, Ms. Innkeeper!”

“Don’t thank her! She is a lying, rude girl. That’s what she is!”

Ignoring the stupid dwarf, I looked at the ingredients I was working with. There was some bread on the counter, but it wasn’t looking great. However, I didn’t have time to make any from scratch, so I picked it up and prepared four slices. A little dry, maybe, but nothing some butter could not temporarily fix. That’s what I did, then, before putting it to cook in the pan.

The stubborn bread would have to be balanced by something smooth, but I was guessing a fantasy world did not have avocados growing. Some kind of substitute, then? The bread sizzled in the pan as I walked around the kitchen to look for any kind of buttery smooth ingredient I could put on the bread before the omelet.

Poltrick and the elf girl got into the kitchen, but maintained their distance. The smell of the cooking butter slowly spread through the entire room, putting me in a trance-like state. There was something about it, after all, that could not be beat.

Cheese.

There was some thick, savory-looking cheese right there under wraps. Perfect for a substitute. I pulled the wrapping back and plucked some out to taste it. The moment it touched my tongue, it melted. A creamy, yet light and fluffy mouthfeel that would pair well with the devious amounts of butter that I spread on the bread. The butter was almost making me feel drunk by now.

As I moved back to the pan with some of the cheese in my hand, I also picked up four eggs on the way. Poltrick and the elf girl screamed, and I ignored them. I reached the stove and kept the ingredients on the platform. The last thing I needed was some chili flakes. But, once more, I was betting they didn’t have any. Where would you get chili flakes from?

I turned around and saw the monster. A lean, tall humanoid with no features beyond the basic shape. It had a weirdly uncanny body made out of what looked like dripping black tar that fell down and polluted the floor. Every step it took in the corridor outside the kitchen, the falling goo ate through the wood and gave off smoke. In front of it, both of my customers continued to cry and move back in horror.

Chili flakes, though. Right? The edge of the kitchen, opposite to where the cheese was, did contain some red chilies. But that did not translate to flakes. There was no blender, so I could not just get what I needed. And they were not really dry, so it would not work anyway. So…paste. Obviously.

“Innkeeper! Help! Monster! Back, evil monster. Do not come close!”

Tuning out the annoying dwarf, I got a knife and sliced the chili in half. Common myth-busting time. The seeds of the chili do not carry any heat at all. What contains the spice is the membrane that carries the seeds. The placenta, that is. I cut a few of those out and mashed them together to form a paste. Once that was done, it was time to finally get the omelets cooking.

“P-please. Help! Someone. Anyone. The…monster…”

“Gosh, shut up!” I cried, unable to understand why they were trying to distract me with their shouting at such an important time.

The elf girl put her hands up in front of her face, as if not looking at the slimy devil that was now halfway through the corridor and reaching out for them as it moaned would make it go away. Surprisingly, in the split second that my eyes stopped on her, her hands glowed. Only slightly, but they did. And the moment that they did, the girl put them down and stepped back to hide behind the dwarf.

Butter in the pan, I mixed some of the chili placenta paste with it. That would help with the lack of chili oil by adding the spice into the omelet itself. Cracking open two of the eggs at once, I started to let them cook while I pulled the bread out and layered the cheese on top of it.

The gooey monster reached the two, putting its hands on the dwarf. Poltrick screamed, punching it in the arm, only to be met with ugly splashes of the black slime falling everywhere on his body. Right then, the elf ran into the room with the tables and returned with one of the chairs. Raising it up, she aimed it at the monster.

I took the first set of omelets out of the pan and placed them on the toast. It just needed some chives to put it all together, and they thankfully did have something that looked like chives. The second set of omelets went on the pan, and I started chopping the greens.

The furniture crashed into the monster. Some of it shattered on impact, causing wood to fly everywhere. Other parts of it sank into the slime and were absorbed by it in an instant. The final bit of the chair, however, hit it square in the face with enough force to rip the monster away from the dwarf. Leaving a mess behind on his body, the moldy cryptid fell down into the kitchen, right on my feet.

I groaned, trying to kick its head away as I pulled the second set of omelets out and placed them on the bread. Almost done, then. Just the chive-like greens left. I got the knife ready, only to feel the disgusting hand of the creature on my ankles. That finally caused me to yelp and jump back in an attempt to get away from the monster.

It moaned, letting out a creepy noise as it stood up and started walking closer. Its hands took support on the kitchen platform, leaving their black goo behind as it walked. Slowly, it approached the food on the plate, and my anxiety grew. Did this beast know just how much effort had gone into that?

Well…not that much effort. But still. I needed to prove to that dumb dwarf that I was not some fraud.

I gripped the knife and moved forward. The wooden splinters that were now swirling in its body had caused a weird, bright spot to appear in its otherwise pure abyss of a body. It walked, groaning and moaning as its hands reached out for the toast. The day it sullied my cooking, however, was not today. Taking a step forward, I hit it in the face with one of my palms to push it back.

Suddenly, its face started to burn. The capsaicin in my hands was probably the cause. Maybe. However, it worked. It let go of the platform and moved back in pain, and its moaning turned into a painful cry. Then, without thinking much, I raised the knife and landed it in the bright spot on its body.

For a second, nothing happened. All was quiet. Poltrick and the elf watched on in horror from the back.

Then, it melted.

The monster let out one final cry of agony before dissolving into the floor, and leaving behind a puddle of the mold that it had been made out of. The knife clattered right beside it, getting caught in the sticky goo, and thankfully not bouncing around. I took a deep breath, wiping my arms on my blue dress before confirming that the food had survived untouched.

I looked at it, and then at the dwarf.

“Breakfast is served, Gregson.” I took his name with spite. “A creamy cheese omelet toast for you and the…young lady. And get this, Gregson. Nobody calls out, or messes with my cooking!”