A Slave Career Planner Can Be A Successful Profession

When I went back to the store and reopened my business, it wasn't long before I plugged in the evening.

(There is no discontinuity of people)

If you realize it, your cooking skills have improved to Lv.2, so much so that you laughed yourself off too fast.

Is it because I finish cooking meat at the best time each time due to my appraisal skills, or because I adjust the amount of sauce involved fairly well? Either way, sometimes the appraisal skills will guide you through the "right" dishes every time, only to be sure that you are improving faster.

(Maybe the otherworlds improve their skills faster)

I thought the hypothesis. Maybe that's not wrong.

I don't know why until now, but there's a fast pace there to get to meet your skills.

I used to think that if my body gradually remembered the "correct behavior," that would improve the level. That's why I thought that being able to check the correct behavior with my appraisal skills every time would be the quickest way to stretch the trick for others to experience it in the dark clouds with their senses.

But now I think, and it's early. When it comes to culinary skills, it is no longer equal to work.

Although I do say that cooking is key to making it the best flavor addition or subtraction and the best baking addition or subtraction, I quite doubt this meat stir fry will cover them all.

(No, maybe this is the pattern that makes me more proficient than I need to be after LV.2. The taste of cooking is to boil, bake, fry, fry, steam, etc. Within a few, I'm just trying to fry extremely hard, because no one else is growing up, so the whole thing stops me with Lv.2, like)

I don't know which one it will be classified as for now. Should I try it if I can demonstrate it later?

In the evening, when the coolness finally came out, I thought of one such thing.

(It's about time you sold out 100 meals..., it'll be peak time in the evening soon, and I'll bring you an extra 50 meats)

"Your husband" was called from behind at that time.

This voice is for sure.

"Is that Lutz?

"Yes, thank you for waiting"

Carefully bowing your head, Lutz.

Rutz's face was quite calm. I saw Lutz in the tent at that time with a dying face, so he got back on his feet a long time ago.

(The knife wound... looks ok though)

I'll take turns if there's a problem when I see how it goes.

However, looking at the solid rutz so far, it looked like a complete resurrection from that haunting.

"Hey, don't push it."

"Yes, I understand."

It was Lutz who answers, but his face is asked something somewhat like readiness.

Ready.

Yes, it's something he's bound to need.

Ironically, Lutz has talent, and is foreseen by God to give him skills. And commensurate with that, difficulty and hardship await ahead.

(... I wonder why Lutz isn't a Puppet or something. I'm sure it makes sense,)

Gift, maybe that's the guy. Abroad, there is a culture that sees being born with hearing loss and other physical difficulties as a gift from God. The idea is that what was born of it was born of it, and that God gave it meaning.

It must also make sense that Lutz was born as a demon and opened his talent to cooking, not physical abilities or intellectual activity.

I'm not an atheist or an atheist.

Phew, and I felt my cheeks loose.

One problem hasn't been solved, being handled as a demon in front of you, even under attack, Lutz should be so tired.

Still, I want to support Lutz in his decision to continue what he wants to do with his mud.

(What is cooking? I probably don't get it, Lutz)

But I want it to be delicious for cooking.

Would Lutz think more about what cooking is than I do? Do I ever ask him to give me the answers I thought about at that time?

"Your husband."

In the middle of my thinking, Lutz called out.

I'm sure Lutz thought about the silence earlier, just like I did.

"Can I ask you something about dreams?"

With that said, what was his first voice? I feel like he was a boy who talked a little more like a werewolf. Such a boy who is not confident in his value and lives frightened not to be a nuisance around him.

That doesn't really feel like Lutz right now. No, I'm sure you have a delicate problem on the inside, year after year, but with the experience of this stall, that kind of strength tells you that you know the extent and temperature, or that you know something that you're going to face now.

"Dream? Oh, what's going on?"

"Yes. It's a dream. … my solitaire."

"Oh."

"Dreams are hard."

"... right, that's hard"

What did you know about the mouth? But I'm sure it is.

Lutz chewed up the spiciness. That's all I want to praise you for, I think.

"Somehow, I, I got paralyzed at the end."

"Paralysis?"

"I feel like I've been attacked, but I don't know."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Actually, I'm a little angry with you. Next time, enough to try to talk to the female bandit guy first.

But Lutz doesn't seem to be. "Yes, but" he only snaps gently.

"I don't know, I wasn't denied cooking, okay? Well, I don't know if it would be good for me if someone could say that the food and the food are good."

"No, no, no, you're amazing, amazing, but too enlightened"

"I'm not enlightened."

Rutz smiles quietly and bitterly.

"Instead, if you're aware, it's not this painful. Every time I cook like this, it's kind of hard right now."

"... dude"

"Oh, no, I'm fine because I've self-resolved. I don't know what."

I don't know, cut the word, and then his words swam in search of the next word. It seemed like a very important word, so I waited until eventually I found the word.

"... dreams are amazing. I always thought it was something fun. And I think it's probably something fun. But the trouble with that is that, on average, fun and spiciness is hard, and I don't know why I'm doing this."

"... oh"

"But wishing, I don't know, I can't help it. Is it true that we have a beautiful future ahead of us? I can't help but dream of the view that I cook for everyone and everyone is eating it deliciously."

"... you're amazing"

Now I'm the one whose words got lost.

Lutz coming next door.

We've been silent on each other for a while now.

The guests are not coming now, and the performances of dances and songs are now taking a break.

(... you know, I actually think it would be an honor to stand next to Lutz)

Maybe I won't say this word to Lutz yet. I'm going to tell you one day when the time comes.

"Lutz, can I have your dinner next time"

"... Yep"

Install the promise.

No reason to be sure, but I'm pretty sure I left this flea market week to Lutz.

(Come on, it must be peak time in the evening from now on. another hard work)

Looking in the direction of the unwiping wind, I felt I was awaiting a hustle and noise feeling from now on. Is it because I'm too optimistic that I feel strange and anticipating?

I thought it would be nice if my neighbor Lutz felt the same expectations as me.