Chapter 7. Better Than Wagyu

The cheering around Emilia was still ringing in her ears when a soft chime echoed inside her head, clear and melodic like a notification from a game.

A glowing blue panel blinked into existence before her eyes.

𝑆𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐿𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑈𝑝!
Foraging – Level 2 → Level 3
New Skill Unlocked: Dismantling – Level 1
The user gains the knowledge and ability to dismantle creatures, separating edible parts, materials, and toxins automatically.

Emilia blinked rapidly. “Wha—?! Did I just… level up?” she whispered.

Hikarimetsu’s amused chuckle filled her mind. “It seems this world rewards you for survival, Master. How fortunate.”

“Fortunate?” Emilia hissed, lowering her voice so the villagers wouldn’t overhear. “I’m about to faint! I can’t even play RPGs without screwing up, and now I’m stuck in one?”

The sword spirit only laughed softly. “Perhaps this will suit you better than you think. Look closely, Master—notice the second skill you gained.”

Emilia’s gaze dropped back to the glowing words. “Dismantling,” she read aloud, her stomach sinking. “Oh no. Don’t tell me it’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“Indeed.” Hikarimetsu’s tone turned almost teasing. “You will no longer fumble clumsily to dismantle the monster carcass. With this skill, your body will move instinctively, as though guided by years of experience.”

As if on cue, her hands began to tingle. Emilia stumbled back a step. “Wait, you mean—” Her body moved on its own.

The three Horned Maulbeast corpses loomed nearby, their dark fur glistening with morning dew and dried blood. Even dead, they radiated menace, their massive curling horns catching the light.

Without thinking, Emilia crouched beside the nearest one. Her knife slipped free of its sheath in a blur of motion. Her breathing steadied, her pulse slowed, and suddenly, she knew exactly where to cut.

The blade sliced through flesh and bone like butter. Her hands moved easily, a little bit hard on the bones, but with her chef skill, everything seemed natural for her, slitting tendons, separating muscle from hide, and extracting organs without spilling a drop of poison into the meat. It's like watching a master butcher at work; only the master is her.

Villagers gathered around, murmuring in awe and disbelief. Even hardened hunters who had gutted countless animals stood slack-jawed as Emilia worked. “It’s as though the spirits guide her hands,” one whispered.

“She does not even hesitate,” another said. “Truly, she is the Pathbreaker.”

Emilia’s mind, meanwhile, was screaming. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I'm doing this! I’m literally butchering a monster! I don’t want to be doing this, but I can’t stop!" Her hands continued moving, unstoppable, until the final piece of the creature lay neatly arranged on a nearby hide.

When the process finished, a new notification appeared.

𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒!
Edible Meat: 78% Yield
Special Material Obtained: Horned Maulbeast Heartblood (Repellent)
This rare substance emits a scent that wards off Horned Maulbeasts and similar predatory creatures. Effective for up to three years when spread around a perimeter.

Emilia fell backward onto her butt, panting. “Oh thank god, it’s over.” She stared at the piles of perfectly cut meat and glistening horns. “Did… did I do that?”

Hikarimetsu’s voice hummed with pride. “Flawlessly, Master. This skill will keep you and these villagers alive.”

One of the guards stepped forward, his bronze spear trembling in his hands. “Pathbreaker… this beast’s flesh, it looks… edible.”

Emilia blinked, her hands trembling slightly as she crouched beside the massive carcass. Slowly, she leaned forward and sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled in anticipation, expecting the sour, pungent stench of rotting flesh and poison that usually clung to dangerous monsters like this.

Instead, what reached her nose is something entirely different, something almost pleasant. The scent is surprisingly sweet and rich, like a mix of fresh venison meat and tender pork. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait… this actually smells good?"

Curiosity flared inside her, pushing aside her caution. She couldn’t just leave it like this. Pulling her knife free, Emilia carefully sliced a thin strip of meat from the beast’s flank. The blade slid smoothly through the muscle, revealing the glistening flesh beneath. She held the piece up close to her face, her expression tense as she focused her vision.

A faint shimmer appeared before her eyes, accompanied by a familiar flickering text box: [Horned Maulbeast Meat–Poisoned]

Emilia’s stomach dropped. Looking closely, she noticed faint veins of dark green toxin pulsing faintly through the fibers of the meat, almost like a heartbeat. It was beautiful in a sick, eerie way, but one thing was clear: eating this now would be certain death.

“Not safe yet,” she muttered under her breath, biting her lip. Then, raising her voice, she turned toward the gathered villagers and the village elder, who were watching her every move with wide, anxious eyes. “Hold on, everyone. I… I might be able to fix this.”

“I think so,” Emilia said firmly, though inside her chest her heart is pounding. She crouched down and began rummaging through the leather pouch tied to her belt, pushing aside dried herbs, a few pieces of cloth, and small tools until her fingers brushed against a cool, smooth glass vial.

She pulled it out carefully. The liquid inside glimmered faintly blue, like liquid moonlight trapped in a bottle. The bottle was previously filled with her homemade soy sauce, but she deemed the antidote far more important than the soy sauce.

“This,” Emilia explained, holding the vial up so everyone could see, “is an antidote I brewed myself. I prepared this back when I was trying to get out from the Gloamspire Thicket.” She smiled faintly, remembering the long night she had spent crouched near a tiny fire, using a rough, bowl-shaped stone she’d found near a cave as her only pot. It had been exhausting work, but right now, it felt worth every second.

The elder’s eyes widened with hope. The villagers, however, still shifted uneasily, exchanging worried glances. Emilia could practically feel their doubt pressing in on her. She raised her free hand and said gently, “Just… trust me, okay? I wouldn’t risk your lives if I wasn’t sure.”

After a tense pause, the elder gave a slow nod. “We place our faith in you.”

Emilia’s shoulders loosened slightly. Taking a deep breath, she opened the vial and carefully dripped the potion onto the slice of meat. The moment the liquid touched the surface, it sizzled softly. Thin wisps of green smoke curled upward, and the dark veins of poison writhed like tiny snakes before slowly fading away. Within seconds, the veins were gone entirely, leaving behind a clean, deep-red piece of meat that almost glistened in the firelight.

The smell changed too—growing richer, fuller, and so mouthwateringly delicious that Emilia’s stomach gave a loud, embarrassing growl. Several villagers chuckled softly, though most were still too stunned to speak.

“W-well,” Emilia said, her face heating, “there’s only one way to find out.”

She stood and gestured for assistance. “Could someone bring me the crystal salt I used last night?” One of the younger villagers sprinted off, returning quickly with a small clay bowl filled with rough, translucent crystals that shimmered faintly under the sun. “Perfect. And I’ll need a fire—please, can one of the guards set one up nearby?”

Within moments, a small fire is crackling beside her. Emilia sprinkled a pinch of the salt-like crystal over the purified slice of Maulbeast meat, the crystals hissing slightly as they melted into the flesh. Then, using a thin wooden skewer, she held the meat carefully over the flames.

As it cooked, the fat began to sizzle, releasing a wave of intoxicating aroma that filled the air. The villagers inhaled sharply, their eyes growing wide as the scent grew richer and richer, until their mouths began to water openly. Even the usually stoic guards shifted uncomfortably, their noses twitching as they tried to maintain their composure.

When the meat is perfectly seared, Emilia blew on it gently to cool it, her heart racing. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted the first bite toward her lips. She hesitated for half a second. "Please don’t kill me," she prayed silently. Then she bit down.

The moment the tender flesh touched her tongue, Emilia’s eyes flew wide open. The flavor exploded across her taste buds, so overwhelmingly good that she almost moaned. “Oh. My GOD.”

The meat is unbelievably tender, melting against her tongue like butter, yet somehow still perfectly juicy. Each bite is rich and savory, carrying a deep complexity that reminded her of high-end restaurants back home in Japan. Even the most expensive wagyu beef she had ever tasted couldn’t compare.

Her mind briefly flashed back to the tough, stonebear meat she ate the night before. Compared to that chewy edible meat, this meat is heaven. She swallowed, breathing heavily as tears of sheer culinary joy pricked at the corners of her eyes. “This… this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she whispered reverently.

Behind her, the villagers gasped and murmured excitedly, their hope returning like a rising tide. The elder’s voice trembled as he asked, “Is… is it truly safe to eat, Pathbreaker?”

Emilia turned, a confident grin spreading across her face. “Safe? It’s not just safe—it’s delicious. This could change everything for your village.” She lifted the last piece of meat and popped it into her mouth, savoring it as the crowd erupted into cheers; the problem of food their village had been facing will now seemingly go away because of their savior.

For the first time since she had arrived in this strange world, Emilia felt something warm bloom inside her chest, a mixture of pride, relief, and determination. She isn’t just surviving anymore. She's starting to make a difference.