Traveling through time, I'm making pancakes in Warhammer

After answering Howard's question, Anderson looked at Howard eagerly and asked, "So, Mr. Howard, have we reached an agreement on this matter?"

After a little hesitation, Howard nodded.

"Oh hoo!" Anderson cheered and jumped up from his seat, then he ran into the kitchen. After a sound of rummaging through drawers, Anderson came out of the kitchen again, but this time he was holding a glass bottle with a thin layer of frost on the surface.

"This is my most valuable wine. I usually don't want to drink it." Anderson patted the bottle proudly, then pulled out the cork and placed the bottle on the table.

He took three sherry glasses from under the counter and filled each a quarter full, then put a pitted pickled cherry in each. He kept one glass for himself and pushed the other two toward Howard and Arable.

"Cheers to our cooperation." Anderson picked up his glass and saluted the two.

Howard looked at the wine in front of him. Although he smelled the rich fruity aroma, he didn't dare to drink it because he knew that his alcohol tolerance was very low and he would almost get drunk after one glass.

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Howard." Anderson consoled him. "This wine has a very low alcohol content and has been stored for a long time. To celebrate our cooperation, why don't you have a drink?"

After a little hesitation and thought, Howard picked up the wine glass.

"Cheers to our cooperation!" Anderson said again.

Then the three of them drank the golden wine in the cup.

Howard put down the wine glass and savored the remaining fruity aroma and other mellow smells in his mouth. It seemed that this wine was indeed not intoxicating and tasted good.

"Mr. Howard, since you are going to work for me, before we officially open for business, I would also like to see how this magical pancake is made." After finishing his drink, Anderson asked with a sharp gaze.

"Do you have ingredients and tools here?" Howard asked.

"Yes!" Anderson replied immediately. "Ever since I had your pancakes last time, I've been trying to replicate them. I have all the ingredients and tools ready here."

"Of course I believe you have ordinary flour or vegetables," Howard began to make up a story. "I'm asking if you have the ingredients to make my magical secret recipe."

Anderson looked a little confused: "What is that...?"

"It's a mythical special secret recipe made from a variety of spices mixed in strict proportions and processed through a special technique." Howard continued to deceive. After all, he couldn't just say that I have an ability that can make anything I put on a piece of dough taste weirdly delicious.

"Mythical secret recipe..." Anderson's eyes slowly widened, and his tone was filled with trance and longing.

After he came to his senses, he took out the small notebook, tore off a page from it, and handed it to Howard along with the quill pen.

"Mr. Howard, please write down the materials you may need. I will find a way to prepare them for you." Anderson said sincerely.

Howard took the paper and pen. Anderson rubbed his hands excitedly, waiting. But seeing Howard was reluctant to write, Anderson said, "Mr. Howard, if you are worried about the secret recipe being leaked, you can write some unnecessary materials on it."

"That's not true!" Howard quickly denied, "I just haven't done it in a long time. I need to think about it carefully."

Then Howard twirled the hollow feather filled with ink in his hand, and after a long while he wrote the words on the paper.

"Pepper, cloves, parsnips, cinnamon..."

Howard wrote about a dozen spices in one go. In addition to some 40k-era spices that he knew had not become extinct in the 3k era, he also added several seasonings and aromatic plants from the 40k era.

After making up his story, Howard handed the ridiculous recipe to Anderson. Anderson took it carefully and after carefully reading all the spices required, he said to Howard, "Mr. Howard, I need three days to prepare all the ingredients you requested. Please come to me on the morning of the fourth day."

So the two of them left the pub. After a day of tossing and turning, it was already late at night.

"Are we going back to the house or what?" Howard asked Arabelle.

"To the workshop first," said Arabelle, opening her windbreaker slightly so Howard could see the revolver hanging from her belt.

So Howard followed Arabelle towards the workshop, but as he walked, Howard, who was left behind, saw Arabelle's back gradually split into three parallel parts, which then slowly overlapped and intertwined, turning into more blurred shadows.

At the same time, he felt his head getting heavy and heat kept rising to his forehead.

"Ah...Arabelle!" Howard called to her.

"Huh? What's wrong?" Arabelle turned around and asked confusedly.

"You've become... so strange..." Howard rubbed his eyes, squinted and said, "How did you become three?"

"What are you talking about?" Arabelle was puzzled, but her hand subconsciously reached for the butt of the gun, and she began to look around inconspicuously.

Howard walked up to Arabelle and stretched out his left hand to grab her, but he only grabbed the air around Arabelle, and he almost fell because of this grab.

"No... That's weird... How does this work..." After regaining his balance, Howard frowned, a confused and thoughtful expression on his face. Then he stretched out his right hand to grab Arabelle's right side, but of course, he missed again.

Arabelle looked at Howard as if he were crazy, not knowing what was wrong with the kid.

"Howard, are you awake?" Arable asked.

"What's going on?" Howard didn't listen to Arabelle's question. He looked a little anxious, so he clapped his hands in the middle. This time, with a "pop", his hands clapped on Arabelle's shoulders.

Howard's hand relaxed when he touched the soft flesh. His hand moved up along Arabelle's shoulder and finally touched Arabelle's cheek.

"Oh... I caught you this time..." Howard kneaded Arabelle's cheeks and smiled like an idiot.

"Enough!" Unable to bear it any longer, Arabelle slashed Howard's forehead with a knife.

Unexpectedly, after being hit, Howard's pupils rolled up and he fell straight into Arabelle's arms.

Arabelle froze, not daring to move. She wasn't afraid of Howard's sudden attack or overly intimate contact, but she was afraid that she had lost control and killed the unfortunate child with a single blow.

But after falling into Arabelle's arms, Howard let out a soft and steady snore.

For a moment, Arabelle didn't know what expression to use to deal with the current situation. She now understood that Howard was drunk, but she really didn't expect that there would be someone in the world who had such a poor alcohol tolerance.

But in the end, her body and eyes gradually softened. She looked at Howard, who was leaning on her and sleeping soundly because of drunkenness, and sighed helplessly.