Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 252: Even Butchering is Art

Ren stood before the five bizarre carcasses lined up on the grass, rolling her shoulders like a prizefighter stepping into the ring. She opened her System inventory and summoned her absolute favorite tool for heavy-duty prep: a massive, wickedly sharp, high-carbon steel Chinese meat cleaver.

The heavy blade gleamed menacingly in the afternoon sun.

"Alright," Ren muttered, her eyes narrowing with lethal, calculating precision. "Let’s break you down."

The beastmen who were supposed to be hauling logs and digging trenches found themselves completely distracted. They paused, leaning on their crude wooden tools, their jaws collectively dropping as they watched the small female approach the massive pile of meat.

In the Beast World, preparing a kill usually involved ripping the carcass apart with bare claws and tearing chunks of meat off the bone with blunt, powerful teeth. It was a messy and savage process.

They were not prepared for the artistry about to come.

Ren attacked the armadillo-pig first. With a few deft, incredibly precise slices of her cleaver, she bypassed the thick, impenetrable armor completely, sliding the blade right through the soft connective tissue of the joints.

Thwack. Crunch. Slice.

In less than two minutes, she had flawlessly separated the rich, fatty pork belly from the tough shoulder meat, leaving behind perfectly clean bones that looked like they had been polished.

A collective gasp echoed from around the clearing. Kael watched her with a proud smile; his arms folded across his chest.

Ren didn’t even look up. She was completely in the zone.

She moved to the mini-bison next. Her blade flashed in a mesmerizing silver blur as she expertly trimmed away the tough, inedible silver skin. She rapidly cubed the dense, dark red muscle into perfectly uniform, two-inch squares, tossing them into a massive wooden bowl.

Next came the furry snake-eel; she pinned the head, ran her knife smoothly down the spine, and filleted the translucent, pale meat in two perfect, bone-free slabs before slicing them paper-thin.

She spatchcocked the six-legged turkey with a satisfying CRACK of its breastbone, pressing it flat for an even roast, and then rapidly deboned the plump rabbit-frog, tossing the meat into a separate bowl for mincing.

"Prep team!" Ren barked, pointing her bloody cleaver toward the group of females hovering anxiously near the water buckets. "I need those root vegetables peeled and diced into one-inch cubes! And wash those wild yams until I can see my reflection in them!"

"Yes!" the females squeaked in unison.

They had absolutely no idea what ’one-inch cubes’ looked like, but they scrambled to the water buckets like their lives depended on it. They scrubbed the dirt off the root vegetables so furiously their knuckles turned white.

In the brutal, unforgiving reality of the Beast World, a useless female was a thrown-away female. If they couldn’t provide value, if they couldn’t work and breed, they were usually abandoned to the shadows of the forest to starve or be eaten by feral beasts.

Ren’s sharp commands didn’t offend them; they were a lifeline. Being given important tasks by the clan leader meant they had a purpose. They were desperate to be useful, and they followed her instructions without a single argument, mimicking her chopping motions with crude stone knives to the absolute best of their abilities.

"Heat the cauldrons!" Ren commanded, pointing to the roaring fire.

Two burly white tiger females practically threw themselves at the task, hauling the massive cast-iron pots over the hottest part of the flames.

Ren wiped her brow with the back of her forearm and effortlessly slipped right back into her old Gourmet in the Wild television persona. She couldn’t help it; narrating her cooking process was permanently hardwired into her brain.

"The absolute key to a good braise," Ren announced loudly to the bewildered, captivated audience of beastmen, "is building complex layers of flavor. We want to initiate the Maillard reaction on this pork belly to caramelize the exterior proteins before we even think about introducing the braising liquid."

Ren bought a large jar of rendered duck fat from the System Shop for 2 XP and scooped a generous, wobbly mound of it into the hottest cauldron. It immediately melted, sizzling and spitting violently against the black iron.

"Listen to that sizzle," Ren purred, dropping the perfectly scored slabs of armadillo-pig belly into the smoking fat.

SSSSSSSSS!

An incredibly rich, savory aroma exploded into the air as the thick layer of fat began to render down and crisp up. The beastmen in the trench literally began to drool, their noses twitching erratically as they inhaled the intoxicating scent of searing meat.

"Once we get a beautiful, golden-brown crust," Ren narrated, using long wooden tongs to flip the meat, "we go in with our aromatics."

She tossed in thick slices of fresh ginger, cloves of crushed garlic, and whole star anise pods. The spices hit the hot duck fat, blooming instantly. A cloud of sweet, peppery, and deeply fragrant steam billowed up into the tree canopy, completely masking the metallic scent of blood that had previously lingered in the clearing.

Ren poured in a dark, glossy splash of soy sauce and a handful of brown sugar, watching as the liquid bubbled furiously, coating the pork belly in a sticky, mahogany glaze.

Ding!

[System: Incredible display of culinary dominance, Host! You have successfully captivated 100% of your audience. Bonus Survival XP awarded for ’Culinary Intimidation and Awe’. Keep up the good work!]

’Nice!’ Ren thought as she moved seamlessly to the next cauldron to start the mini-bison stew. She tossed the cubed beef into the second pot, searing it hard and fast to lock in the juices and build a dark, beautiful fond at the bottom of the iron. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

She sprinkled a heavy dusting of flour over the seared meat, stirring vigorously with her wooden spoon to cook out the raw flour taste, creating a rich, nutty roux right in the pan.

"Veggies!" Ren yelled, holding out her hand.

A female almost tripped over her own feet to hand Ren a massive wooden bowl filled to the brim with cleanly scrubbed, roughly chopped root vegetables.

They weren’t perfect but it was good enough. Ren could see that they tried.

"Excellent work," Ren praised quickly, dumping the vegetables into the pot before deglazing the whole glorious mess with a heavy splash of sharp, tangy vinegar and water.

As the two massive cauldrons began to simmer, sending waves of mouth-watering, soul-healing aromas wafting across the clearing, Ren took a step back.

Her face was flushed from the heat of the fire, her hands were slick with rendered fat and spices, and a small smudge of flour decorated the tip of her nose. She looked at her brigade of obedient prep cooks furiously washing the remaining ingredients, and listened to the rhythmic, satisfying bubbling of the heavy stews.

Ren felt completely and utterly in her element. She was ordering people around, the heat was blazing, and the food was singing. A massive, genuine smile spread across her face.

She was happy.