A Stay-at-home Dad’s Restaurant In An Alternate World

The numbness was wearing off. Mag could feel his strength as he stepped on the ground, which lightened his mood.

I’m not a cripple anymore! I may not be very strong, but I’m strong enough to be a good father now.

“I’ll be more productive. I think I should hire another waitress after all,” Mag said to himself as he walked.

He passed by Mobai’s forge all the time, but not once had he stepped in.

His forge was as large as Mag’s house. In fact, all the houses in the Aden Square were pretty much the same in size; they had been built at the same time. Some large shops were using two or more houses.

Mobai’s house was built of black square stones, newly repaired from the look of it. The walls were rough—as expected of the tough owner.

His signboard was made of five iron discs hanging on an iron bar sticking out of the front wall. On the discs were five red letters in caps, which read: forge. The signboard had seemingly been repainted many times. It was old, and had seen so many customers come and go.

The forge had a wooden door, and now it was wide open.

Mag could hear somebody hammering now. Thankfully, the system did a great job making my house soundproof. It would kill me if I had to endure this every day.

He stopped at the door and looked inside. He saw various kinds of weapons hanging on two wooden racks and the right wall: axes, knives, iron staves, short swords, longswords, and heavy swords; they were weapons commonly used in this world. There were four chairs by the left wall, in which was a small window. Beyond the left wall was the place where Mobai was working. The layout was simple, and the black stone floor seemed pretty clean.

The swords were shimmering, screaming sharpness.

As expected of the swords which are 1,000 gold coins each. Mag was more than familiar with swords.

Naturally, weapons were crucial to soldiers; they could mean life or death sometimes. Mobai’s reputation kept his business successful.

There were only three blacksmiths who were as good as Mobai. Although no one could tell who was the best, the fact that he was busy all these years spoke volumes.

As Mag walked in quietly, he could hear men talking. He recognized the voices of Mobai and Habeng. Apparently, Habeng went straight here after breakfast.

“What brings you here, Mag?” Mobai asked, looking at Mag through the small window in surprise.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just browsing.” It’s quite strange for an owner of a restaurant to buy a weapon.

Habeng walked out and smiled at Mag. “You should buy one, Mag.”

Mag shook his head with a smile. “I already have one: my cooking knife. I just came here to satisfy my curiosity.” Actually, I want to find out what’s the best weight of a sword for me.

Mag Alex used a black heavy sword in his prime—it weighed around 50 kg. He had been able to kill a dragon with a single swing of his sword.

Mag could lift something just as heavy now, but there was no way he was capable of wielding a sword that heavy.

“Do you sell weapons, system?” Mag asked. He found his neighbor’s weapons too expensive.

“I do not have any lethal weapons,” the system said seriously.

“I guess I’ll buy one here, then.”

“I’ll sell you one if you promise you won’t use it on anyone,” the system said reluctantly.

“What good is a sword if I can’t use it to kill? Do you intend me to play with it like a freaking toy?!”

“What’s wrong with toys? You bought Amy’s toys from me, remember? Some toys need more skills, devotion, and time than your cold weapons. Some are even more expensive. So, why are you so against toys?”

That’s a good comeback. Amy’s music box cost me 200 gold coins. It’s not impossible for a toy to be more expensive than a weapon.

Habeng nodded. “It would be a great loss for us if you became a knight. We could do without a knight, but we couldn’t do without a chef.”

“Thank you.” Mag smiled. But Mag Alex wasn’t just any knight. He walked towards a longsword on the wall.

“I’d take the shorter one if I were you,” Mobai said with a smile as he walked out in a thick black apron.

I have seen him resting a lot while cooking. He is too weak to lift that longsword, Mobai thought to himself. I don’t want him to hurt his wrist. The shorter one is a sword for women, but it’s much lighter.

“Thank you, but I think I like this one.” Mag took it in his hand. The carved handle was cool to the touch, but he suddenly felt fired up.