The ship's lighting had switched to Night Mode, wrapping the corridors in a dim, heavy silence.
Driven by the excitement of the hunt and the weight of the steak in their bellies, the crew were all out cold, sleeping like logs in their private quarters.
My eyes, however, were wide awake.
Maybe it was because the energy from the Star Tuna was still smoldering inside me, or maybe it was because of the "big problem" I had left sitting in the kitchen.
I stood alone before the counter.
Resting there, dragged out from the refrigerated container, was the Star Tuna’s massive head. Beside it sat the eyeball I had carefully extracted during the butchering process.
It was roughly eighty centimeters in diameter.
Given that the fish’s body exceeded a hundred meters, the math suggested the eye should have been closer to two and a half meters, but the actual specimen was significantly smaller. Still, it was plenty big—too big, really.
Covered in a gelatinous membrane and emitting a dull, milky-white light, it looked less like an ingredient and more like a component for a biological weapon.
"…Alright. How do I tackle this thing?"
As I stood there with my arms crossed, groaning at the challenge, I heard the door slide open behind me.
"…Hmph. You’re certainly energetic."
It was Professor Stein. He was dressed in a loose shirt that doubled as pajamas, a mug held in one hand.
"You’re one to talk, Professor. You’re an early riser for an old-timer."
"Don’t be absurd. I don't have the kind of temperament that allows for a peaceful night's sleep when faced with unknown biological specimens. …Well? Do you intend to simmer that eyeball?"
The Professor looked up at the giant sphere with clinical interest.
"Yeah. It’s a mass of collagen, after all. If I simmer it long enough, it should turn into a tender, melty delight. But…"
I tapped the surface of the eye with my knife’s handle. It made a dull thud. It was hard, feeling more like a thick rubber tire than anything organic.
"It’s too big. And the structure is too complex."
"Naturally," the Professor said, adjusting his glasses. "The eye is less than a meter across despite the hundred-meter body. It’s smaller than one would expect, likely because this creature is entirely different from the fish found in planetary oceans. It likely navigates the high-energy plasma currents using sensors other than sight."
He leaned in, analyzing the specimen. "The outer membrane is a multi-layered, heat-and-pressure-resistant shell. The interior is composed of a high-density gel for shock absorption, controlled by a complex web of ocular muscles. If you were to simply toss this into a pot… the outer shell would insulate the heat while the internal gel reached a boil. The thermal energy would have no escape, eventually causing a pressurized eruption that would likely take the kitchen with it."
"…I figured as much," I muttered with a dry smile.
This wasn't a task for a former diner cook or a weekend hobbyist. This wasn't cooking; it was a uniform heating experiment on a massive structural object.
"Lucia. Are you awake?"
"Yes, Master. I am always on standby," her voice came instantly from the ceiling speakers.
"Run a simulation for simmering this until it's edible. Conditions: heat the entire mass uniformly, gelatinize the connective tissue, and—crucially—don't let it explode."
"Acknowledged. …Calculating based on the target’s mass, thermal conductivity, and protein denaturation temperature."
A few seconds of silence followed. The answer Lucia spat out was merciless.
"Result: Using current equipment—the commercial steam convection oven—the following steps are required: 1. Ten hours for butchering and pre-processing to remove odors. 2. Six hours of protein fixation using 55-degree low-temperature steam. 3. Eighteen hours of heating at 85 degrees while vacuum-packed. 4. Fourteen hours of cooling and reheating to allow the flavors to penetrate. …A total process of thirty-eight hours is recommended."
"Thirty-eight hours!?"
I was speechless. That was nearly two days. Not even a dedicated ramen shop spent that much time on prep.
"Hmm. A reasonable estimate," the Professor noted. "Furthermore, that figure doesn’t account for the time needed to actually dismantle such a sturdy structure. …Akito-kun, I’m afraid this won’t be ready for tonight’s snack."
"…Damn it. I give up."
I accepted the defeat gracefully. This would have to wait for another time.
"I’ll put the eyeball back in the freezer. The freshness preservation field is top-notch; it’ll stay fresh for six months just sitting in there. …But this is a different story."
I shifted my focus to the other block of meat: the Crown Meat.
It was a rod-shaped cut taken from the very top of the head. It was more marbled than the finest Otoro, yet possessed a firm, muscular texture—a rare delicacy that yielded only a small amount even from a tuna of this scale.
I could handle this with a standard pot. It was still a massive amount of meat, but at least it was a cut I could slice into manageable pieces.
"Professor, can you give me a hand? We’re eating this now."
"Good grief. Your gluttony is appalling… but I find I have no reason to refuse."
The Professor smirked and rolled up his sleeves.
We filled a giant pot with Pseudo-Soy Sauce, synthetic alcohol, and a generous amount of synthetic sugar. As far as simmering liquids went, it was a failing grade, but I hoped the sheer quality of the ingredients would overwhelm the sauce's flaws.
For a bit of flair—and flavor—I added plenty of sliced Pseudo-Onions and some ginger-like root vegetables I’d received from The Spider.
Once the liquid hit a rolling boil, I tossed in the thick chunks of Crown Meat. I placed a drop-lid over them and turned the heat up high.
Glug… bubble… simmer…
The sound of the liquid splashing and the sweet-salty aroma of soy sauce filled the quiet ship. The fish fat melted out, mingling with the sauce to create a nostalgic scent that the ventilation system carried all the way to the living quarters.
Fifteen minutes later, the dining area doors began to slide open one by one.
"…Nnh. …Something smells… amazing…"
Mina wandered in, dazed, her hair a mess of bedhead. Emulgand followed close behind, rubbing her eyes.
"…I thought I was dreaming," Emulgand murmured. "A dream that my mother was cooking a feast back home…"
They looked like zombies lured in by a scent, but their eyes were shining with anticipation.
"Morning, everyone. …Or is it evening? Regardless, it’s time for a late-night snack."
I lifted the lid. Beyond the rising steam, the simmered meat appeared, glowing with a deep amber luster. It wasn't an exaggeration—the Crown Meat had been simmered until the liquid became a thick glaze, which, combined with the fat, made it look like a pile of edible gemstones.
"It’s done. Simmered Star Tuna Crown Meat. Eat it while it's hot."
I plated it on a large platter and brought it to the table. Beside it, I set out another "white mountain"—the rice-type synthetic carbohydrate. The only good thing about this stuff was that it didn't require any actual cooking.
"Thanks for the food!"
Everyone chorused together, hands pressed in a brief prayer.
Mina didn't wait, reaching her chopsticks for a piece of the meat. The moment she touched it, the cut fell apart.
"…!! It’s so soft…! It’s melting!"
Mina’s face practically melted along with the meat the second it hit her tongue. I took a piece for myself.
…Incredible. The sauce had penetrated every single fiber. There was no need to even chew; the gelatinous fat dissolved on my tongue, sliding down my throat in a rich, sweet-salty rush. It didn't have the explosive impact of the steak, but it possessed a deep, gentle umami that warmed me to my core.
"…Phew. The style is different, but this, too, is almost violently delicious," the Professor said, savoring the tender meat. "Parts near the brain tissue are a treasure trove of high-quality lipids and amino acids. Heating them breaks down the cell membranes, releasing all that flavor into the broth. …Waiting on the eyeball was the correct choice. Our brains are receiving more than enough of a 'reward signal' from this alone."
I took a piece of meat dripping with sauce, let it "bounce" once off the synthetic rice, and shoved it into my mouth.
…It worked. The synthetic rice was dry and bland, lacking the natural sweetness of real grain no matter how much you chewed. But that very blandness made it a perfect cushion for the incredibly rich fat and heavy seasoning. The starch granules soaked up the sauce and mingled with the dissolving fish, creating the primal pleasure of a proper rice bowl.
"…It’s frustrating, but it’s good. It’s actually good."
But this was still a compromise. If I had real, freshly cooked rice, the potential of this dish would skyrocket. The sweetness and stickiness of real rice would catch and neutralize the heavy fat, creating a perfect cycle that demanded bite after bite.
"…Man. I really want real rice."
I stared into my empty bowl and sighed. Having the best fish in the galaxy only made the missing pieces of the puzzle more obvious.
"Akito-san, don't look so sad! This 'rice-type' stuff is delicious once you mix it with the sauce! …Um, can I have seconds?"
Emulgand held out her empty plate, her mouth smeared with sauce. Well, if she was happy, I guess that was enough.
In the comfortable silence that followed, I looked out the window at the nebula. The Sperm Whale was still anchored in the Xeno-Mist, with only a few hours left before our return to Oasis.
My stomach was full. I had the data I needed. And most importantly, I finally had the ingredients—and the resolve—to fulfill my promise to The Spider: to make a "Genuine Curry."
"…Alright. Now that we’ve eaten, let’s get moving."
I stood up and licked a bit of the sauce, which had thickened into something like dark honey, off my finger.
"Lucia, prep the thrusters. We’re going back to Oasis."
"Understood, Master. …Return course set. Weighing anchor."
A faint vibration hummed through the hull as the Sperm Whale groaned back to life. I figured I should take the first step toward my next culinary goal while the taste of this one was still fresh in my mind.
Author's Note: I really felt the potential of AI when setting up the cooking process for a 100-meter sci-fi tuna. Or rather, when I casually decided on the 100-meter size, I hadn't realized how much the volume would explode.
If you found this interesting or are looking forward to the next chapter, please drop a "★"! It might just help Akito upgrade his dinner tomorrow night. Thank you for your support!