Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Quest

"Let's see... Will 20 minutes be enough to the East End?"

From Lombard Street where I am to the East End there was quite a distance. If going only on foot it was much farther than the Royal Academy, and the road going was also complex.

But if using the tram the story was different. Unexpectedly the East End was a place one could go faster and more easily than other regions.

I was thinking of going to find an acquaintance in the East End to receive help.

When I muttered East End like that alone, the guy who was beaten to a pulp by Joe suddenly started trembling his body.

"Cough, I-I'll say everything! Really! I'll spill all without leaving even one! Please forgive!"

"Me? Trusting what?"

Of course under the premise that the other party cooperates fully, distinguishing truth and falsehood was the easiest thing for me above all.

But these guys, they said they jumped out from the East End? Then handing them over that way seems better even for aftercare.

"P-please spare me! The East End... Please!"

"Who said they'll kill? I also hate seeing blood, you!"

But taking this guy to the East End was somehow unpleasant because of people's gazes.

Lord Frederick also said not to cause accidents. For now I dragged him to a suitable alley and put him, but a place to temporarily confine until an expert comes was needed.

While looking around a suitable place just in time caught my eye.

Pub.

A place where Britain's poor laborers gather and drink alcohol and relieve stress.

No matter how much a busy street like Lombard Street, if one turns the alley a little a slum exists anywhere.

Because even if rich one doesn't not need hands, and transportation isn't good like modern times so commuting from the suburbs is also hard, naturally lower laborers settled and lived nearby.

And in such slums there was always one such pub. For lower class laborers the pub was the only playground, the center of entertainment, and the place of socializing.

If I briefly confine the guy in the basement of that pub... It'll be okay, right?

Of course that was a place I also knew well. If I enter I roughly guessed what would happen.

But no particularly suitable place came to mind. Returning to the restaurant was also somehow uncomfortable. Can't be helped. In the end I led people and entered the pub.

Creeeak.

As soon as the door opened the gazes of the customers inside all focused on us. Among them especially on me.

"Look at this, who is that! Isn't it Jean?"

"Hey! The great noble sir has come! Everyone let's shout!"

"Jean! Jean! Jean! Jean!"

"Pride of Baker Street! Creator of chicken! Jean! Jean! Jean! Our savior! Jean! Jean! Jean!"

Ugh, alcohol smell. From noon what beer are they drinking like that? Great noble sir, the joke is once fierce!

Moreover, the thick unique smell of grilled meat that spread as soon as the door opened!

"No what are they openly grilling samgyeopsal in the lobby? Cough, in a place without ventilation? Cough cough."

Sizzle.

In the middle of the pub's lobby a barbecue grill was placed, and the barman (*Barman, British expression for bartender) was diligently grilling samgyeopsal!

That person, not serving alcohol what on earth is he doing?!

I looked around. It was to find the pub owner (Publican). Fortunately he who reacted to the commotion stuck his head out from the kitchen.

"Oh, who is this? Jean! How long has it been? Thanks to that pork dish you made lately the sales are very decent! Why I sold that fishy cod fry for so long I don't even know, hahahat!"

Cod fry? That one of frying only the fish head and selling? Ugh!

"Hello, Mr. Howard. It's fortunate the business is going well. But it seems everyone only orders samgyeopsal. Don't you sell fish and chips anymore?"

"If the same price samgyeopsal is much better than cod! Because they say they procure in bulk the butcher president cuts the price more on his own? Taking this opportunity he said he's thinking of even importing meat from France or Spain to catch a big share! This is all thanks to you, haha!"

I thought it was a grilled meat house not a pub! Can't this oil smell at least be somehow?

"Smell? Isn't it much better than the cod fishy smell? There are customers who come because they like this smell, why on earth care about that?"

"Ah, yes. Well, if that side is good for you."

Cod was the fish most commonly caught and consumed in Britain, but pork wasn't hard to obtain either. Thanks to the pig farming revolution at the end of the 19th century the price became cheap enough for commoners to put on the table without worry.

That doesn't mean other parts became cheaper than fish. Just the pig belly meat consumed for bacon only had no popularity so there was no price difference with cod.

If made into bacon and sold of course it would have been more expensive. Because smoking takes a lot of hands.

But samgyeopsal is a dish that ends just by grilling the meat.

So a ridiculous situation occurred where even lower class people ate samgyeopsal more than fish and chips or bacon.

"By the way, who is that guy? Why is he like that beaten to a pulp?"

"Ah, that person?"

It was a situation of beating a person in broad daylight and dragging around, but no one thinking of reporting to the police was comedy.

It was still a world that brazenly attempts person kidnapping in broad daylight. If one pointed that out who knows when and where one would be retaliated, so everyone ignoring others' matters became daily.

"It's a guy who tried to harm me in front so I gave him a bit of a beating. By any chance have you seen the face?"

"What? That guy you? Here on Lombard? Puhahat, with what guts on earth?"

Jump.

"Hey this brat! Where are you from?"

"Of all people touching our Jean?! Want to die!"

"Looking at that attire it doesn't seem a British guy? Doesn't seem an Irish guy, isn't it a Russian guy?"

"So-sorry! Ugh!"

At that time the drunkards who were eavesdropping on the conversation between me and the owner jumped up and with faces full of anger snatched the guy's collar and started tearing the clothes!

At this rate before interrogation even the corpse will be cleaned up! But why is that person suddenly searching the back pocket?!

There's nothing in there! I already searched earlier!

"No, Mr. Howard! Please stop those people a bit!"

"What about it? A guy who touched our friend in broad daylight has to be given a beating!"

In the end I somehow tore and stopped. The guy who became more of a pulp than being hit by Joe, now seemed to have completely lost even the will to resist.

And to calm the excitement of the excited customers, in the end I had to turn one more round of beer with my money!

Surely these guys weren't aiming for this?!

Anyway as originally planned I confined the guy in the pub basement, and after sending the newspaper sellers back I headed to the East End with Joe.

###

I'll pick one most regrettable thing recently.

Exactly unintentionally spreading the samgyeopsal craze in London.

Rather I should have eaten alone secretly hiding, what on earth was I thinking at that time?

Recipes like Chicken and Chips or galbijjim were still under my control.

This era was better than modern in information security. If one just properly keeps the mouth shut, the possibility of leaking itself was almost none.

But if mouth keeping fails due to the scary word of mouth unique to big cities information spreads in an instant was also a characteristic of this era.

The method of making is also easy, and the raw material is also no different from cheap compared to London prices the pig belly part.

Moreover people's imagination is so amazing, even though only the method of grilling meat leaked they quickly noticed the fact that if accompanied by sauces like aioli (*Aioli, garlic sauce) or wholegrain mustard it's more delicious!

Cucumber pickle is understandable, but who would have imagined the crazy combination of putting anchovy on samgyeopsal?!

Chicken and Chips one has to buy and eat at our store to feel the proper taste. But samgyeopsal ends if one just buys the meat and grills at home!

Thanks to this incomparable accessibility, a samgyeopsal typhoon of about a weak fruit level swept every corner of London alleys for Chicken and Chips.

Especially the pig belly part that was only used for bacon meeting new demand thanks to samgyeopsal, large and small butcher shops not missing this opportunity and all entering competitive discounts was the decisive critical!

Originally if demand surges the price should rise normally, right?!

So these days while passing alley streets one can often smell the samgyeopsal smell spreading on the wind.

Especially in lawless places like the East End they openly grilled on the street. Because this side was a neighborhood where common sense didn't exist at all.

"Hey! Durand! Look here a bit!"

Someone called me from the side so I turned and looked, a man grinned and gave a thumbs up.

What, this person?!

Even with one front tooth missing and empty he revealed his teeth and smiled brightly, a person who felt strangely weird. But it wasn't in a bad meaning. Looking at him diligently grilling samgyeopsal with the other hand.

I let out a deep sigh.

The fact that I first made Chicken and Chips is now known even to London's lower class.

Moreover with the empty name attached of the person who made tasteless pig belly meat delicious, from a few weeks ago I was even paying such ridiculous fame.

No, newspaper seller guys, if going to grill and eat samgyeopsal just quietly grill and eat, why attach the name ‘Durand Barbecue’ and ‘Durand Sauce’ and make this fuss?!

Even in my previous life I paid fame but it wasn't this tiring, why is it like this in London? Perhaps because it's a society where one has to be exposed and communicate more directly to people than in my previous life.

In fact, staying at the manor and coming was honestly close to fleeing.

I thought if I briefly avoid it would be okay, but it seemed not.

"Hey, Jean-Paul Durand! Where are you going so hurriedly? Eat one piece of Durand Barbecue here and go! I really grilled it deliciously!"

"No, it's fine!"

There weren't one or two people who caught me in the middle like that!

Even though the East End isn't my activity range about one person per 10 meters recognized me!

What? Is there some wanted poster attached?!

If the rumor that I made peanut butter spreads here too, won't I really not be able to go outside the house like Mr. Doyle?

Even in my previous life I felt, popularity isn't necessarily only good. As always there exist people who envy and are jealous.

There also people who try to ride on it.

"Hehe, sir, please give a little 1 penny charity! The kids are starving!"

This level was really nothing. Because Joe is standing behind usually they don't even dare approach.

I threw one 6 pence coin to the beggar. It was courage fee.

"Oh! To give such large money! Sir, you'll receive blessings!"

"Let me just ask one way. To contact the Luca Family where should I go?"

"Lu-Luca?! Oh dear, I don't know!"

The reason the East End almost became like extraterritoriality.

Partly because criminals flocked, but the fundamental reason was that this region was the main residence of immigrants and overseas laborers.

People who don't even communicate properly gathering and living there was no way administrative power would properly work.

But if trying to push them the aftermath is troublesome.

The largest crime organizations in the East End are the families who came over from southern Italy.

No matter how East End residents they don't want to be directly intertwined with organizations, so just asking the way and finding took a long time.

"No what wandered for 2 hours in front of this! Is this correct?!"

In the end I somehow arrived.

Luca Family. It was a huge 3-story wooden mansion.

And in front of it I exactly met eyes with a blonde Italian person who was pointing at subordinates.

"Che sorpresa (What is this)! Jean-Paul Durand! Madonna (*Madonna, exclamation)!"

"Salvatore! Have you been well?"

"Thanks to you! Thanks to one box of peanut butter you sent I saved face in front of father! Lately how hard it was to obtain!"

Salvatore de Luca.

The eldest son of the Luca Family boss and a connection known from the newspaper seller days.

The Luca Family is one of the 10 or so crime organizations that dominate the East End.

Compared to other crime organization guys who commit heaven-outraging sins like murder, plunder, arson, these were relatively gentle so worth getting close with.

Because what they do is usury, financial fraud, stock manipulation, smuggling, operating gambling dens. By this era's standard relatively kind, right? To the point I want to do it together?

"You came well! Durand! Just in time I needed your help!"

"Yes?"

I came to ask for help?!

"Help me a bit, Jean-Paul Durand! I need that proud cooking skill of yours!"

What quest is this again?!