Free Life ~Record of the Struggle of a Different World General Merchant~

Seven days after the shopkeeper of everything and his daughter's street tour of the fixer... a one-of-a-kind food was showing signs of fashion in the lower district street.

"Yes, five with meat, fish and octopus, we'll be ready soon!"

"Thank you for waiting!"

In the corner of the street, there was a stall that spread a strange smell around. It doesn't smell as simple as baking meat or fish. It's not fruit, it's not confectionery. Everyone in Granferia can't swear it's this smell......

Even though that smell, which you can't even compare, attracted you, or where you can never say it's a good position, there's a group of about twenty people there.

Boneless men who seem to have nothing to do with cooking are the first to be seen by those who convey their noses and stroke them down to their stomachs and are intrigued by the smell that makes them spit.

How is it that not only the drunken men, but even women and children who love sweet things, are gathered in the dishes made by men who seem to be engaged in castle wall repairs, etc.

If you take a peek at what stall it is, you can see the men doing something that doesn't suit the figure: putting the iron plate on hand with chimatima and wood skewers. No, if you look closely, you can tell that the iron plate has a number of indentations and cleverly flips the wheat dough poured into it.

A loose fabric that is twisted and heated by an iron plate and foams more twisted at the ends. Meat and seafood are placed at its center, and red dyed ginger finely chopped or fried scallops are covered so that they are mosaic to it.

That's where the clerks show their arms. The wooden skewer is cleverly used, and the dough that tries to solidify in a hemisphere is rotated to make it spherical. Each time, children caught sight of the stall cheered, and even adults approached the stall with interest accidentally shouted "ho" and impressed.

But this stall is not a spectacle hut. You can't just cook all kinds of wheat dough round and gather all these people. There is no other way to attract people to the street than by "fragrance" and "flavor".

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh."

Eventually the golden citrus large that could be done is arranged eight times on a paper dish shaped like a small boat, painted with a loose tar-like sauce. If you can accompany Yang Zhi there, you can do it. An inexpensive look, the smell of a sauce that gets heated and stands up, and five copper coins. Everything matched the tastes of the common people.

That's why buyers don't hesitate to put the first food they see in their mouths. Then the first thing you feel in your mouth is the heat that's going to burn you. If you add sawdust and teeth to a piece of well-cooked outer thin skin, it's the thick inner fabric that floods out of it.

It's not like the fire hasn't gone through. Rather, it's heated to the core and hot to the utensils inside. The juice seeping out of the appliance mixes with the soft fabric around it and melts.

Such a happy filling of the mouth with a sauce mixed with a stop and all that it takes would be satisfying just where the taste of fish and chicken stock can be felt. This sauce is excellent again and the sweetness and aroma are too strong. On the contrary, it raises the flavour of the dough and utensils and sublimates them to a flavour on one.

Everyone was fascinated by the taste.

Old and young, everyone cheeked it up full of mouth, and exhaled white, howling, toward the unbridled cold skies of February.

The figure was enough to loosen the purse strings of those who watched unfamiliar foods faraway.

"Yes, there you are! What would you like to order!?

Less than a few days after appearing on the market, the name of that street food that people are becoming incapable of seeking is….

From the name of the homeland of those working in the stalls, it was named "Gypania Grill".

"Yeah, yeah, the dipania grill is a big success."

"Oh, good, good. Looks like you can leave me alone now."

Two people watch the thriving Gypania-grilled stalls from afar. This is the noble college that taught the people of the Zipanian Village Earnings Association every skill they needed to bake Zipania, and the caorle that asked for it. They watched the stall for a while from a distance, but walked out with their backs to the stall to decide there was nothing wrong.

"But okay? I gave my village a name. Plus, not just octopus, but all sorts of things. Takahiro's hometown dish, right?

The brunette girl walking next to you through a shopping cage in her arms was relieved by the success of her fellow countrymen, but was also reluctant to change the few things that made her homeland look good to you.

But the person in question makes me wave, "That's all right."

"The people in this area are resistant to" octopus "and" squid. "Takoyaki, if it stays what its original name is, you can't reach it, can you? The only people in this city who eat octopus are from the south or the poor. That's why he gave it the proper name for a dipania grill, and added non-octopus utensils. Yeah, well, you can sell it, right?

"That's not what I meant..."

It's not a matter of selling or not selling our products. Caorle sees the shaking of your heart as a problem. She draws blood from the Far East, I know. How much do those who come from Zipang miss their homeland?

Her grandfather, Yahiko, is intelligent, courteous, and vast enough to be liked by anyone. Sometimes he also thinks and weeps about his homeland, where demons are prevented from returning to the central part of the continent where they travel.

Caorle can't forget the sight he saw at a young age. The sight of Yahiko sitting up and looking up at the full moon and holding a drink dried cup in his hand squeals the name of Zipang and weeps a glimmer of tears...

She heard about her hometown once. But the last thing I came back with was the words "I tried to go home, but I couldn't" and a bitter laugh. His eyes coincided with those of his grandfather at that time, and since then Caorle has been lightly untouched about your great homeland.

So what does he think of selling the dishes of Zipang for money as specialties of our own village? That's what I really liked about Caorle.

But......

"I'm worried about you."

"Hiccup."

To the forehead of the caorle, which darkens his face to concern, you are greeted with decopin. Turning to her, who looked up surprised, make her laugh nicely.

"Nothing, just the best as street food that meets affordable and other points, don't worry about it because it's not particularly thoughtful. Take stock with chicken gallows, roasted fish bones or heads, and use it for your health. The sauce doesn't take a lot of work because I just need to put my hands on the uster I use in the store. I enjoyed putting my hands on it."

I can't feel sadness or anything from the great college that says so. He's the usual weather man. Caorle, who understood so, stretched his back properly, which he had unknowingly rounded, and decopined back to you greatly.

"Hot."

"Yeah, okay!

As it is, a caorle running out the road to home, placing a noble man rubbing his forehead. Hold the shopping cage in your chest and let him look back with a naughty smile.

"Well, I'll make you dinner as promised!... if I can get there sooner than I can!

"Ha!?

Caorle tries to run away leaving his flashing greatness behind. It's a mess that I meant to be cared for, but on the contrary, to mislead the embarrassment of being cared for, or something I can't think of from my usual girlfriend.

One sigh and a bitter laugh begins to follow her, Precious. At the end of its back, I could see more Gypania-roasted stalls where people were about to gather.

Street stalls thrive, and personal life is smooth and full of sails. The faceted future of the village of Zipania, centered on Caor-Lockyard, was bright.

... but street streets are nests of hungry beasts. Something like pulling out the eyes of a living horse is also a daily tea meal, and the weak try to somehow make the interests of the strong ours. To them like that, the dipania grill dazzled me too much.

"Oh, my God, Takahiro! Gipania grilled stalls said we could do ten this week alone!!

"What? No!?

Two weeks after the advent of the dipania bake. You just hear the manipulation from the friendly Zipanian villagers, or the shop you call your own ancestors. A store that tries to compete with flavor, more to the taste of the people of Gran Feria. Such a gypanian-baked stall opens up one after the other like an asparagus after the rain.

They are the ones who do not miss the delicious juice. People out of the country, etc., will even get their asses haired. That's what I'm going to do, and I'm going to stand up to you. Exactly now, the curtain of the "First Gypania Baking War" was about to be cut and dropped.

But that's another story.