The Extra Prince Sets Out To Conquer The World

When I walked into the room, I saw a fairly large kitchen.

   However, there are only two cooks in the kitchen.

   The younger chef was the only one moving around, while the middle-aged chef was sitting, yawning, and reading a newspaper.

   The kitchen seemed to be a reflection of Prince Yuan’s situation.

   Even so, the fact that there were only two cooks in the palace where the prince was staying meant that Prince Yuan was being neglected.

   “How miserable.”

   The manservant told me on the way here that this kitchen also cooks the meals of the ladies and servants who manage the palace.

   I could see the palace being run by a young boy who seemed to be an apprentice, doing all the work himself.

   I muttered something low, and the old wolf-haired servant bowed his head in shame.

   “I apologize.”

   “No, it’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

   With that, I pulled away from the two of them and approached the middle-aged cook, who appeared to be the sole chef.

   “Uh-hmm.”

   I gave a small cough as I approached the chef, and he looked at me with an annoyed expression, as if he finally realized I had entered the kitchen.

   The chef didn’t even bother to show courtesy to the prince, but instead flipped to the next page of the newspaper and asked bluntly.

“What is it?

   I almost snapped at the fact that he knew my face and didn’t bother to even look at me, but I held it together.

First of all, as Prince Yuan, this was not the time to act out.

   I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and smiled my signature Prince Yuan smile.

   “I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

   At my words, the chef spoke firmly.

   “I can’t. I’m busy.”

   “…What?”

   I asked, looking back and forth between the chef, who was flipping through the newspaper in disbelief, and the apprentice, who was working frantically.

   The chef didn’t look at me this time and replied in a voice full of annoyance.

   “You know, kitchen work is usually considered heavy labor.”

   It certainly seems that way with the apprentice chef. But not this asshole.

“So why don’t you stop bothering me and go back to your room? If you were in your room, I’m sure they would bring you a meal, but instead, you decided to crawl out here and….”

   Oh, no. That won’t work. After all, people should live according to their true nature. And as it is, I’ll die as a punching bag, not to an assassin.

   Before the chef could finish his sentence, I instinctively grabbed the handle of a frying pan stacked on the shelf and hit him over the head with it.

   BANG-!

   “Ugh!”

   The cooking utensils fell to the floor, making a loud noise, and the chef collapsed, bleeding from the head from the sudden impact.

   It seems that even a frail body can utilize gravity to generate enough power to send the ball into the goal.

Ah~! Refreshing. Who told you to piss off someone who’s trying to be nice?

   Precia and the old manservant were stunned by my behavior, and the apprentice, who was busy with his work, looked at me and the chef in surprise at the sound.

   I bent down, put some saliva on my finger, and applied it to the corner of my eyes, and cried out.

   “Chef, are you all right, man, you should have put the bowl away better, what is this!”

   I then grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

   With his head injury, this was no good, but it didn’t matter.

   It’s none of my business if this asshole dies or not.

   “Ugh… Wow, Prince?”

   “Chet.”

I stopped clucking my tongue as the chef came to his senses but then squeezed out chicken shit-like tears.

“Are you coming to your senses? A bunch of unstable cooking utensils just fell on your head!”

   “Oh, I see….”

   The chef nodded in agreement, not sure who to suspect as the culprit.

   The chef may be annoyed with the apprentice later, but he won’t hurt him.

   The moment the apprentice stops working, the chef will have to do all the work the apprentice is doing now.

By the way, in times like these, Prince Yuan’s usual behavior comes in handy. I’ve learned some good information.

   I looked at the old wolf-headed servant and called out.

   “Quickly fetch the court physician; the chef is seriously injured, isn’t he?”

   “…Yes, sir. I see.”

   As a servant who had been in the palace for a long time, he quickly assessed the situation and moved swiftly.

   I apologized to the chef in a sobbing voice.

   “I apologize, sir. It could have been avoided if I hadn’t spoken to you….”

   My deliberate sniffling and pretend wiping of my tears embarrassed the chef.

   “Oh, no, I’m fine.”

   He seemed to feel guilty that I’d come out like this when he’d blatantly ignored me.

   It’s a shame because it would have made the experience a little more thrilling.

   “I’m glad you’re okay, but do you know where they keep the alcohol?”

   “Yes? Yes… The alcohol is stored in the cellar over there….”

   “I see. Take care of yourself. You are in charge of a kitchen that supports many people. You must be healthy for this palace to stand upright, and for this country to stand upright.”

   I cut the chef off and went into the cellar where the alcohol was stored.

Regrettably, there was only alcohol in the cellar that was less than 20 proof, but I took out a few bottles.

   * * *