Now—
Gordon's eyes are on .
Eris's eyes are on .
Lilly's eyes are on .
And in front of —
A mountain of vegetables.
A big-ass pile of green onions, twenty regular onions, twenty carrots, and twenty potatoes—staring back at , waiting to be conquered.
The challenge?
Show off my knife skills and prep them all in ten minutes.
I tighten the apron around my waist.
Close my eyes.
Deep breath.
The pressure is heavy, but I know—I can do this.
Co on, Felicia, you've got this!
I may be in a different body.
But I am still .
My hands still rember how to work a knife.
I open my eyes.
BOOM.
Confidence surge.
Spirit fired up.
God-mode prep cook activated.
LET'S GOOOOOO!!!
But first—
Rule number one: A dull knife is a dangerous knife.
The knife on the counter looks decent—but it's not sharp enough.
Without hesitation, I grab the sharpening rod nearby.
Schweng schweng schweng schweng!
A few swift strokes, and the blade is perfected. I run my finger lightly along the edge—yup, it's good to go now.
"Ho ho!"
Gordon's deep chuckle breaks the tension. He's standing right next to , watching intently.
Oh, I see now.
This must've been his first test—to see if I knew the importance of a sharp blade.
If I had just started cutting without sharpening, I would've failed instantly.
But I passed.
A sharp knife is a must.
Every real cook knows that. It's rule number one.
Now—
Ti to slice and dice.
Where do I start? The carrots or the green onions?
Rule number two: If unsure, ask!
"Mr. Gordon," I say, glancing at him confidently. "There are many types of cuts. What would you like to show first?"
Gordon raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Oh? If you can, show everything," he says, arms crossing as he leans forward.
A grin creeps up my lips.
"ALRIGHT!"
I reach for the carrots first.
Now—
Grip matters.
I hold the knife properly—fingers wrapped securely around the handle, my index finger resting along the blade for balance and precision. My thumb presses against the other side, ensuring control.
This grip gives both stability and finesse.
I place the carrot on the cutting board, holding it steady with my free hand, fingers curled inward for safety. The blade rests lightly against the vegetable.
Ready.
Prepcook knife skill—first technique: BRUNOISE.
Pap! Pap! Pap!
I cut off the rounded edges, squaring the carrot so it sits flat on the board—no wobbling.
Then—
Shhhhck! Shhhhck! Shhhhck!
I slice the carrot into thin, even sticks.
Next, I line up the sticks neatly—
And—
Pap! Pap! Pap!
I dice them into perfect little cubes, no bigger than 1-2 milliters each.
Tiny, uniform orange cubes fall in a perfect pile—each one identical to the last.
I glance at Gordon.
His eyes widen slightly.
There's a glimr of acknowledgnt in his expression.
I smirk.
But I'm just getting started.
Prepcook knife skill—second technique: SMALL DICE.
Pap! Pap! Pap!
The knife moves faster now, but still controlled—larger cubes, just as precise.
Third technique: JULIENNE.
Shhhhck! Shhhhck!
Long, thin matchstick-like slices, uniform and even.
Fourth technique: BATONNETTE.
Pap! Pap!
Thicker, rectangular sticks done in seconds.
I'm in the zone now.
The rhythm of the knife flows effortlessly.
My hands move with machine-like precision, the blade dancing over the cutting board.
One minute passes.
All the carrots? DONE.
Another minute.
The potatoes? ALREADY PREPPED.
I grin.
Sohow—
I've never felt this good before.
For so reason—
This is fun.
I'm absolutely destroying this test!
——————————————-
Less than five minutes later...
"FINISHED!!!"
I slam the knife down with a triumphant grin, admiring the majestic piles of perfectly diced, sliced, and chopped vegetables in front of .
The ti limit? Ten minutes.
My actual ti? Half of that.
Oh boy...
I haven't been in a kitchen in years—
But it looks like I've still got it.
Feeling proud, I turn to look at everyone standing around , expecting so feedback.
And—
Eh???
Why is everyone frozen???
Eris. Frozen.
Lilly. Frozen.
Even Gordon—the massive, battle-scarred kitchen veteran—frozen.
It's like they've just witnessed sothing terrifying.
I blink, feeling a little self-conscious.
"Ehhh..." I stamr, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "H-how did I do? Did I et your qualifications?"
Lilly is the first to break the silence, her voice shaky.
"Y-yeahhh..." she stamrs. "I-I think you didn't just et the qualifications—you crushed them..."
"WOW!"
Eris suddenly shouts, her voice exploding with excitent.
"What the heck was that, Felicia?! That was AMAZING!!!"
Hearing that, warmth floods my cheeks, the praise sending a wave of pride through . A shy smile creeps onto my lips.
But...
The final say belongs to Gordon.
And—
He still hasn't said anything.
I turn to him, my confidence wavering slightly.
"Ermmm... Mr. Gordon?"
Nothing.
For so reason, he's just standing there, completely motionless.
But then—
Suddenly—
"LILLY!!! GET THE PAPERWORK!!!"
The inn owner's roar shakes the entire room.
"Y-YES, FATHER!!!" Lilly squeaks, imdiately sprinting toward the back.
I blink.
"Eh? Does that an...?"
Gordon grins, crossing his arms.
"YES! YOU ARE HIRED!!!"
"YEAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
I jump for joy, throwing my arms in the air, shouting with excitent.
Eris leaps up with , just as ecstatic.
"Congratulations, Felicia!!!" she beams, her eyes sparkling with pride.
"Thanks!!!" I grin back, my heart swelling with pure joy.
Ahhhh...
I feel so happy right now.
Getting a job on my first day reincarnated as a catgirl?
AM I NOT AWESO???
HECK YEAH!!!
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