Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 177: Episode : Make More.

Which also meant, when are you going to die so I can eat you?

You see the reason why the land and the waters can never coexist as one?

[You are exaggerating things.]

You are not the fucking one that they are saying such a thing to. Don’t you fucking see the threat?

[...]

Roxy knew she couldn’t fight. She had no claws. She had no fangs.

She had a broken rib and a System that was currently giving her a quest to make friends with the monster contemplating her mortality.

Think, Roxy. Think.

Then a light bulb flashed in her mind, and a brilliant idea was born into her mind.

"You’re right," Roxy whispered, her voice trembling but clear. "I am dying down here. The air is stale. The food is raw. I’m a creature of the sun, and I’m fading."

Roxy tried to mimic how they say things here in the beastworld.

Nimue smirked, satisfied. She reached out a claw to poke Roxy’s chest again. "So die quietly. Do not make a mess for my brother to clean up."

"But," Roxy interrupted, pushing herself off the bed just an inch. "If you let me die... You lose."

Nimue paused, her claw hovering in the air. "I lose? What do I lose?"

"You lose the experience," Roxy said, locking eyes with the territorial princess. "You lose the secret. If I die, you will live for another thousand years in this dark, cold trench, eating raw fish and smelling rot. You will never know what the Surface tastes like."

Nimue blinked. Her violet eyes narrowed. "I have tasted Surface things. I have even eaten a fallen dragon."

"They are not that delicious and are tough," Roxy scoffed, channeling every ounce of her inner chef to mask her terror. "That’s not the Surface. That’s survival. I’m talking about flavor. I’m talking about heat. I’m talking about spices that burn your tongue in the best way possible. I’m talking about magic that turns a dead crab into a feast fit for a Goddess."

Roxy took a breath. "Kill me, and you eat raw meat forever. Keep me alive, and I’ll show you why the landwalkers act like they own the world."

Nimue stared at her. The boredom in her eyes flickered, replaced by a glint of greedy curiosity. She lowered her hand.

"Prove it," Nimue hissed.

Roxy didn’t waste a second. She got off the bed and reached her hand into the empty air beside her, and pulled out cooking gears from her inventory, glad she saved some of these.

Nimue reacted instantly. Her gills flared wide, turning a violent crimson. Her fins erected like switchblades, and she recoiled, slamming her back against the cave wall.

"It’s not a weapon!" Roxy yelled, pulling her hand back quickly, clutching a heavy cast-iron skillet. "Calm down! It’s a pan! It’s for cooking!"

Nimue stared at the black iron object, her chest heaving. She looked ready to bolt or attack. "No wonder my brother calls you a witch."

Roxy scoffs, suddenly humoring the title.

Zarek never thought to call her that, though she was familiar with the Queen and goddess title they gave her.

"I told you," Roxy said, setting the skillet down on the flat stone over the fire pit with a heavy clank. "I’m a Sea Witch. Now stop hissing and watch."

She reached back into the void. This time, Nimue didn’t hiss, but she coiled her tail tightly, ready to strike if Roxy was going to lunch and attack her.

Roxy pulled out a jar of garlic butter (one of her most prized possessions from the System Store), a shaker of Cajun spice blend, and a pair of metal tongs.

"You eat raw," Roxy muttered, her hands shaking slightly as she arranged the items. "That’s barbaric. Let me show you civilization."

She grabbed the lighter from her pocket. She piled the dried driftwood Caspian had scavenged under the skillet.

The fire roared to life.

Nimue flinched violently, though she exclaimed in awe; she had never seen it before. "Wow!"

"It’s just fire, Nimue," Roxy said, her confidence returning as the familiar ritual of cooking took over. The heat warmed her face, chasing away the chill of the mermaid’s threat. "It won’t hurt you unless you touch it. Sit down."

Nimue didn’t sit. She hovered, mesmerized. She watched the orange flames lick the bottom of the black iron. She watched the wood turn to ash.

Roxy dropped a large dollop of garlic butter into the hot pan.

The sound was explosive in the quiet cave. The butter melted instantly, foaming and bubbling.

Nimue’s nostrils flared. She inhaled deeply, her eyes widening. In the deep ocean, the only thing she ever smelled was the seawater, salt, and blood. This smell was warm and heavy.

"What is that?" Nimue whispered, lowering her arm. "It smells... aggressive."

"That’s garlic," Roxy said, tossing in the raw scallops and chunks of crab meat Caspian had left on the table.

The aroma deepened. As the seafood hit the hot fat, the proteins browned. The sugars turned caramel. Roxy sprinkled the Cajun spice generously, paprika, cayenne, pepper, and onion powder.

The air in the cave transformed. It no longer smelled like a damp prison. It smelled like a five-star restaurant on the coast of New Orleans.

Nimue drifted closer. She couldn’t help herself. Her predator instincts were screaming that this was wrong, but her hunger was screaming louder. Her mouth watered, a sensation she had never experienced before a kill.

Roxy pulled the skillet off the fire. The butter was still frothing, coating the seafood in a glossy, red-tinged sauce.

She then grabbed a wooden skewer, pierced a large, perfectly seared scallop, dripping with garlic butter and spices. She held it out.

"Eat," Roxy commanded.

Nimue looked at the skewer. Then she looked at Roxy.

"You try to poison me," Nimue accused, though her eyes were glued to the scallop. "It is hot. It will burn my insides."

"Blow on it," Roxy demonstrated, blowing gently on the meat. "It cools down. Come on, Your Highness. Are you scared of a little cooked fish? I thought you were the terror of the deep."

Nimue’s violet eyes flashed with pride. "I fear nothing."

She snatched the skewer from Roxy’s hand.

She sniffed it one last time. The spice tickled her nose, making her sneeze, a tiny, high-pitched sound that was surprisingly cute.

She glared at Roxy for witnessing it, then unhinged her jaw slightly and popped the entire scallop into her mouth.

She bit down.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Nimue’s eyes went wide, the pupils blowing out until her eyes were almost entirely black.

She froze.

Her brain, wired for thousands of years to expect the cold, slimy, metallic taste of raw fish, short-circuited.

First came the heat, physical warmth that spread through her mouth, warming her cold blood. Then came the texture, the crisp, seared crust giving way to the meltingly soft, sweet interior.

Then came the flavor bomb. The salt. The rich, coating fat of the butter. The punch of the garlic. And finally, the kick of the cayenne pepper.

Nimue didn’t know any of these things existed, but she loved them. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Nimue gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"It bites!" she muffled, her eyes watering. "The food... it bites back!"

"That’s the spice," Roxy grinned, leaning against the rock, crossing her arms. "Do you like it?"

Nimue swallowed. She stood there for a long moment, processing the aftertaste. She ran her tongue over her lips, chasing the lingering butter.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

She lunged.

Nimue shoved past Roxy, grabbed the handle of the hot skillet (her thick skin impervious to the heat that would have burned a human), and tipped the entire contents into her mouth.

Crab, scallops, remaining butter, spices, gone in three seconds.

She chewed voraciously, moaning low in her throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated gluttony. She licked the cast iron clean, her long, snake-like tongue finding every drop of the sauce.

Roxy watched, terrified and amused. "Okay. Guess you liked it."

Nimue lowered the pan. Her face was flushed pink. Her lips were slick with oil. She looked... high. The sensory overload of cooked food was practically a drug to her.

She looked at Roxy. The murderous intent was gone, a hunger to demand more. She didn’t say "thank you."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, slithered over to the coral chair, and sat down heavily, her tail curling around the base. She pointed a greasy claw at the fire.

"It is... acceptable," Nimue lied, her voice thick with satisfaction.

She licked a piece of garlic from her thumb.

"Make more."