After the meat had been trimmed and plated, then garnished with sauce and vegetables, the slightly burnt roast suddenly looked presentable. When Altaïr carried the platter to the table, Hayata could not help teasing her husband about how much his cooking had improved.
The corner of Gordon's mouth twitched.
Just as Altaïr returned to the kitchen to keep slicing the roast and fetch some bread and other staples, Gordon suddenly reached out, scooped up Sajji, who had been following Lady Shalan around asking for flying tips, and held him right in front of his face.
"What did that kid cook for you on your last Hunt? Don't think. Answer me now!"
He even started a three-two-one countdown to heighten the pressure and keep Sajji from making up a lie on the spot.
If the kid had been spouting nonsense earlier, Gordon would teach him a proper lesson. He was not about to let Altaïr fill his gullible daughter's head with lies!
With Isis's father's fearsome face inches from his own, Sajji stammered, "It... it was just rations boiled into mush, meow?"
Seeing Gordon's expression turn strange and realizing that he might be ruining Altaïr's reputation as a good cook, Sajji hurriedly added, "Boss usually makes all kinds of tasty food, meow! At the very least, he'll fry some bacon or fish, meow!
"Last time was only because Isis wasn't there, so Boss made do with something simple, meow!"
Gordon fell silent for a few seconds.
So it was true? And he only resorted to the ration mush I invented when Isis wasn't there and he had to make do?
Am I supposed to feel relieved or angry about that?
Looking displeased, Hayata rescued the startled Sajji, whose fur was standing on end, from her husband's hands. She had not caught what the two of them were whispering about, but her husband's sudden roughness annoyed her.
"Why are you scaring him?"
"I was only joking." With mixed feelings, Gordon reached out and stroked Sajji's head. "I'll make it up to you with some tasty sausages later. My hunting partner made them himself."
"Meow?"
Sajji was neither greedy nor particularly interested in fine food, but that offer genuinely tempted him.
Gordon's hunting partner was Clawdia's father, the legendary Palico.
Whenever Clawdia ate something good, whether Altaïr had cooked it or she had ordered it at a restaurant or tavern, she would always declare proudly, "It doesn't compare to my father's sausages, meow."
Sajji had always wanted to try them...
While Isis's parents remained preoccupied with a Felyne, Isis could wait no longer. She picked up her fork, speared a slice of meat from the large platter, and stuffed it into her mouth.
"Mmph..." She chewed with puffed cheeks for a while, then swallowed hard. "Mom's right. It really isn't very good.
"It's overcooked, so dry that all the juices are gone, and it hardly has any flavor... Did you marinate it?"
"No."
"Even I know that a large piece of meat has to be marinated before you roast it if you want it to taste good..." Isis muttered under her breath.
Gordon's face darkened.
When Hunters grilled meat in the hunting grounds, did they not simply put Raw Meat straight over the fire? As long as they watched the heat, kept it from burning, and sprinkled some salt on it before eating, it filled their stomachs just fine. Why make such a fuss over it?
It was all that kid's fault for spoiling his daughter's palate!
He conveniently ignored the fact that he ate quite well in the field and on Hunts himself whenever his partner was there to cook.
Once the food was served, the roast provided a generous main course, but few people wanted more than a few bites. The dishes Altaïr had quickly prepared from the newly purchased ingredients proved far more popular than the dry, flavorless meat.
In the end, most of the roast went into Gordon's stomach and the rest into Altaïr's, the former to save face and the latter to spare him the embarrassment...
Isis had long since grown accustomed to all kinds of exchanges with Altaïr at the dinner table, such as, "This is delicious! Try it!" or, "I'm choking! Let me have a few sips of your water."
To an outsider, they naturally appeared quite affectionate.
Master Amos was already used to that level of intimacy between them, and Hayata did not mind in the slightest, smiling all the while. Gordon, on the other hand, had to make a tremendous effort not to slam his Black Fatalis Blade onto the table.
Altaïr's face remained stiff throughout the meal. With his nerves taut, he somehow made it through the harrowing lunch.
After clearing the table, Gordon and Hayata sat down across from Isis and Altaïr.
Master Amos took his teacup to a lounge chair by the window and settled in to bask in the sun, glancing over from time to time as he quietly enjoyed the spectacle.
The atmosphere at the table was somewhat awkward. This was the first time any of the four had found themselves in such a situation, and for a moment, none of them knew what to say.
Hayata was the first to break the silence. "You two were promoted to High Rank recently? We only found out when Kitty wrote to us and sent some photos.
"Master Amos didn't tell us much. Why don't you two fill us in?"
Altaïr and Isis exchanged a glance. With Isis taking the lead and Altaïr supplying the details, they recounted how they had repelled the Teppeki Shen Gaoren.
"Just as I thought. That old man still loves pushing people before they're ready." Hayata was clearly displeased when she heard how His Immenseness had summoned the two of them and promoted them to High Rank.
In her view, Hunters should prepare properly for a promotion and advance only after passing a formal exam.
Special promotions granted by His Immenseness carried risks.
"That's why Altaïr and I each arranged our own promotion exam," Isis said with a smile. "I hunted a Kuarusepu solo, and he hunted a Brute Tigrex.
"Oh, right! Gemma crafted our armor sets. She only finished them a few days ago!"
"Gemma? You mean Isana?" Hayata looked a little surprised. "Wasn't she off traveling?"
"She's back in Harth now."
"I see. It's been years since I last saw her. I'll visit her when I get the chance."
While mother and daughter chatted, Gordon's gaze settled on Altaïr.
"A New World-style Brute Tigrex Armor Set... If Isana forged it for you, that explains it. But I seem to recall that set having a cape. Doesn't it look like something is missing without it?"
"Your daughter's legs were cold, so she's wearing it around them." Hayata shot him a sidelong glance.
The look seemed to reproach him: he had never been that considerate back then.
Gordon was left speechless. He had mistaken it for an oddly colored skirt hem or something.
All four of them were Hunters, so they had no shortage of things to discuss. Their earlier awkwardness soon melted away as they chatted.
Altaïr breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least Gordon had not slammed the table and shouted, "I don't approve!"
Altaïr could tell that Gordon was trying hard to play the role of a stern, dependable father.
He began quizzing the two of them on all kinds of hunting knowledge, as though checking a child's homework.
He seemed to have trouble finding the right level, though...
He even asked, "If you run out of Potions, how do you find ingredients in the wild to craft more?" It was the sort of question even a trainee fresh out of training camp should have been able to answer.
After all, the last time Gordon had done anything like this was four or five years ago, before Isis had graduated from training camp.
To him, those four or five years might have passed in the blink of an eye.
Yet in that time, Isis had grown from an insecure Rookie Hunter into a true High Rank Hunter.
Growing annoyed with the questions, Isis decided to prove how much she had grown in the simplest, most direct way possible.
She planted her elbow on the table and stared straight into her father's eyes, her intent unmistakable: Come on, test my strength!
Gordon was visibly taken aback.
How long had it been? Since making a name for himself, how many years had passed since anyone had dared challenge him to an arm wrestle?
After all those years, his next challenger was his own daughter?
Interesting.
An excited grin spread across his face as his massive hand clasped Isis's.
For a moment, Gordon's mind wandered. That tiny thing who had once curled up in the palm of his hand... Had her hand truly grown larger than her mother's?
An opening!
Isis's eyes sharpened, and she unleashed an explosive burst of strength.
Still distracted, Gordon countered reflexively with all his strength. There was no contest; with a heavy thud, he slammed his daughter's hand onto the table hard enough to crack the solid wood in several places.
"Wuu..." Isis hunched over, clutching her hand.
Her confidence had swelled. Now it was thoroughly deflated.
Altaïr had only one thought:
Why did you have to challenge him at that of all things...?