Chapter 231: Every Good Harem Needs a Bad Boy

Ren stood before the roaring fire, staring at the fifty-gallon cast-iron behemoth. The cauldron was already blazing hot, the black iron radiating waves of intense heat into the cool morning air.

High above her, hundreds of feet up in the canopy, Kael and Altair were still fast asleep in the tree hut, dead to the world. It was just Ren, the morning birds, and a mountain of ingredients.

Ren tied her messy red hair up a little tighter, smoothed down the soft fur of her grey dress, and activated her chef persona.

“Welcome back to Gourmet in the Wild: Beast World Edition,” Ren whispered to the empty clearing, her voice carrying a professional, dramatic flair. “Today, we are cooking for an entire clan of starving White Tigers. We are making a rustic, hearty Elk and Root Vegetable Stew. And we are starting… with the sear.”

Ren opened her inventory and took the massive tubs of white beef tallow she had purchased. With her chef’s knife, she scooped a massive, generous dollop of the fat and dropped it directly into the smoking-hot cauldron.

HSSSSS!

The tallow melted instantly, turning into a pool of sizzling, liquid gold. The rich, savory aroma of rendered beef fat immediately filled the clearing.

“In goes the protein,” Ren narrated.

She summoned the mountain of perfectly cubed, ruby-red elk meat from her magical storage and tossed it into the cauldron in large batches. The sound was deafening—a furious, aggressive sizzle as the cold game meat hit the scalding fat.

Ren grabbed a long, sturdy wooden branch she had whittled into a makeshift spatula and began to stir. She didn’t over-crowd the pot; she let the meat sit, allowing the intense heat of the cast iron to work its magic.

“We are looking for the Maillard reaction,” Ren explained to the trees, her green eyes reflecting the dancing flames. “We want a deep, caramelized, mahogany-brown crust on this meat. That crust is pure flavor. It locks in the juices and creates the foundation for our entire stew.”

As the edges of the elk cubes turned a beautiful, crispy brown, the earthy, mouth-watering scent of roasted game meat permeated the air. Once the meat was perfectly seared, Ren tossed in her aromatics.

“Ten pounds of diced yellow onions,” Ren announced, dumping them in.

The onions hit the fat, crackling loudly. She stirred them through the meat, watching as they began to sweat, turning from harsh and pungent to beautifully translucent and sweet.

“Next, the garlic. Five pounds, minced. Do not burn the garlic, viewers, or your stew will taste like bitter regret.”

The moment the garlic hit the hot fat, the fragrance bloomed. It was a spicy, savory perfume that made Ren’s stomach let out a thunderous growl. She followed it up with a heavy squeeze of dark red tomato paste, stirring it vigorously into the center of the cauldron. She let the paste fry for a minute, allowing it to caramelize from a bright red to a deep, rusty brick color, unlocking a massive bomb of umami.

“And now, to lift all that beautiful, sticky brown fond from the bottom of the pot,” Ren said, pulling a cheap wooden cask of red wine from her inventory. “We deglaze.”

She poured the wine in.

WOOSH!

A cloud of fragrant, burgundy steam erupted from the cauldron as the alcohol burned off instantly. The sharp, rich acidity of the wine cut through the heavy fat, creating a thick, bubbling, dark maroon reduction that smelled absolutely divine.

“Now,” Ren sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. “We need the broth. Which means we need water.”

Ren pulled her trusty leather waterskin from her inventory. It held exactly one gallon.

She looked at the one-gallon waterskin. She looked at the fifty-gallon cauldron.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Ren groaned.

Vex had set her back by a whole lot. She was already behind schedule.

Ren sprinted to the waterhole, dunked the skin until it bubbled full, and ran back. She poured the cold water into the incredibly hot cauldron.

HSSSSSSSS!

Steam rose violently, hissing like an angry dragon as the water hit the scorching hot iron and the bubbling wine reduction.

“One down. Forty-nine to go,” Ren muttered miserably.

She turned around and jogged back to the waterhole.

Trip two. Trip three. Trip four.

As Ren ran back and forth, her legs burning and her thighs aching from the lingering soreness of last night, she found her mind wandering. She couldn’t focus on the cooking. She couldn’t stop thinking about Vex.

She remembered the heavy, suffocating heat of his body pressed against her back. The way his large hand had cupped her breast through the soft fur of her dress, perfectly finding her nipple. The wet, intoxicating slide of his tongue in her mouth. The undeniable, rigid bulge of his arousal grinding into her hips.

Ren stopped at the edge of the waterhole, her face flushing so hot it rivaled the fire pit. She dipped the waterskin, staring blankly at her own rippling reflection.

’I am going crazy,’ Ren thought, splashing some cold water onto her burning cheeks. ’I hate him. He’s manipulative, he’s arrogant, and he just blackmailed me. Why is my body reacting like this?!’

[System: Because every good harem needs a bad boy, Host.]

The System’s voice chimed in, sounding entirely too amused.

[System: You have the stoic, protective Eagle. You have the dominant, brooding Tiger. You have the possessive, wealthy Snake. But the Fox? He is the wild card. The toxic red flag that you just know will ruin your life, but you want to ride it anyway. It is a classic romance trope. I highly approve.]

“Shut up!” Ren whisper-yelled, yanking the full waterskin out of the pond. “He is not in my harem! And he never will be! I am just partnering with him to cure Feral Madness!”

[System: Mmhmm. Right!]

“I hate you.” Ren marched furiously back to the clearing.

She poured another gallon of water into the cauldron, watching the rich, dark broth thin out. She refused to let the Fox ruin her focus. Getting the stew done was the most important thing right now. A Michelin-star chef does not let horny, intrusive thoughts ruin a fifty-gallon service.

Trip ten. Trip twenty.

After what felt like an eternity of jogging and cursing Vex’s existence, the cauldron was finally filled to the perfect level. The dark, savory liquid was bubbling gently, taking on the incredible flavors of the seared elk, the caramelized onions, and the red wine.

“Back to the food,” Ren narrated loudly, forcing herself to focus purely on the culinary arts. “The broth is built. Now, we add the heart and soul of the stew.”

She summoned the fifty pounds of cubed russet potatoes and the twenty pounds of sliced orange carrots from her inventory. She dumped them carefully into the bubbling cauldron, the bright colors disappearing into the dark, rich broth.

“The starches from the potatoes will break down as they simmer,” Ren explained, stirring the massive pot with both hands on her wooden branch. “This will naturally thicken the stew, giving it that beautiful, velvety texture that coats the back of a spoon. The carrots will add a necessary, earthy sweetness to balance the robust gaminess of the elk meat.”

Finally, Ren grabbed her herbs. She tossed in whole sprigs of fresh rosemary and thyme, letting the oils release into the heat. She dropped in a handful of dried bay leaves, followed by a heavy, generous dusting of coarse sea salt and cracked black pepper.

Ren stepped back, resting her hands on her hips, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

The cauldron was a masterpiece. It bubbled and popped, releasing a cloud of steam so fragrant and comforting it could probably cure depression.

“Phase one is complete,” Ren announced to the forest. “Now, we let it simmer.”

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