Richard Thompson immediately snapped awake and hurriedly replied, “I was just thinking about what dishes to make.” After a pause, as if remembering something, he asked, “But you all have to give me some tools first, right?”

　　Old Woman asked in surprise, “What tools?”

　　“The tools for cooking, of course.” Speaking of cooking tools, Richard Thompson suddenly felt a chill in his heart. How could he have forgotten about this? Even the most skillful cook can’t work without ingredients! No matter how handsome a chef is, he still needs good kitchenware! Thinking of this, he looked at Old Woman with a trace of unease.

　　Old Woman seemed a bit confused.

　　Suddenly, the young man threw a wooden stick and a few sharp-looking stone shards at Richard Thompson’s feet.

　　He got it!

　　But Richard Thompson would rather believe he misunderstood. After staring for a while, he looked up, his eyes brimming with tears, “Th-this is your cooking equipment.”

　　Old Woman nodded.

　　You call this equipment? Richard Thompson’s confidence instantly plummeted, and with tears in his eyes, he said, “So—there aren’t even any pots or bowls?”

　　“What are pots and bowls?” Old Woman asked curiously.

　　Oh my god!

　　That one sentence hit Richard Thompson like a heavy blow, almost knocking him out. It’s just like they say—don’t pretend to be cool, or you’ll get struck by lightning!

Chapter 3: A Small Test of Skill

　　“Uh… well… those are for holding food!”

　　As Richard Thompson spoke, he gestured wildly in excitement, trying to show Old Woman what he meant, so anxious he didn’t know how to explain.

　　After all, this was practically a matter of life and death for him.

　　“We have some!”

　　Old Woman answered simply and clearly.

　　Why didn’t you say so earlier! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Richard Thompson let out a huge sigh of relief.

　　But when Henry Wright handed him a “naturally made” stone bowl, Richard Thompson was dumbfounded again. This wasn’t a bowl at all—calling it a plate would be generous. No, even calling it a plate was too much for this ugly chunk of rock. At best, it looked like a misshapen inkstone!

　　It was basically just a stone, with a slight dip in the middle.

　　“We don’t use this to hold food,” Old Woman kindly reminded him.

　　“I can tell!” Richard Thompson nodded in utter despair. How could you use this to hold anything!

　　From this, he could more or less guess the current state of the kitchen: probably just a fire, a stick to skewer some meat and roast it, maybe wrapping food in big, thick leaves at best.

　　He’d only thought about how amazing his cooking skills were, but forgot that his skills were all based on having pots and bowls.

　　Without even pots or bowls, there was no point in asking about ladles or spoons.

　　How was he supposed to cook? At this moment, Richard Thompson felt like banging his head against the stone bowl. Maybe he’d bragged a bit too much earlier.

　　“How much longer do we have to wait?” Old Woman seemed a bit impatient.

　　You don’t even have bowls and you’re still so cocky—easy for you to say! Richard Thompson muttered to himself, subconsciously touching his waist. He relaxed a little—thankfully, his dagger was still there. At least he wouldn’t have to use those pitiful stone knives. Frowning in thought, he realized he’d have to make barbecue for them. But this wasn’t meat—he couldn’t just skewer it on a stick and roast it. He’d have to cut it into small pieces, which meant whittling sticks. But he only had one dagger. If he relied on those savages’ stone knives, by the time the sticks were ready, the innards would have gone bad. Oh god!

　　Just as he was fretting, he suddenly noticed a strangely shaped stone slab not far away, less than an inch thick. If there was one thing this place had, it was stones. Richard Thompson’s eyes suddenly lit up with joy. “Got it!”

　　Old Woman looked at him, full of doubt.

　　Richard Thompson froze, then quickly smiled and said, “Very soon, very soon.” Then he suddenly turned to Henry Wright and said, “I wonder if Brother Henry Wright could lend me a hand?”

　　As soon as he finished speaking, a muscular arm appeared in front of him, and a deep, booming voice said, “A hand!”

　　Richard Thompson stared blankly at Henry Wright, only to see that Henry Wright looked completely serious, not joking at all. After a moment, Richard Thompson took a deep breath. For the sake of your strength, I won’t hit you. Doing his best to keep smiling, he said, “I mean, could you help me stack the firewood and light the fire?”

　　The young man suddenly said, “Aren’t you the one who can make fire? Why do you need Henry Wright to help you?”

　　Help me give birth? I’m not a woman! And even if I were, I couldn’t give birth! Richard Thompson said, “Here’s the thing—I could do it myself, but I have to deal with all this stinky stuff, and that’ll take a lot of energy. Unless you want to handle it, and I’ll make the fire instead.”

　　Henry Wright looked at the innards and felt like throwing up. They all called these innards “stinky stuff,” which showed they didn’t know how to handle or eat them. He quickly said, “I’ll help you make the fire.”

　　As he spoke, he glanced at Old Woman.

　　Old Woman nodded.

　　“Thank you!”

　　Richard Thompson nodded, then said, “Who will help take these… stinky things to the water?”

　　“Why don’t you take them yourself?” Old Woman asked in surprise.

　　“Good point!”

　　Richard Thompson nodded. He was already used to bossing his underlings around to do the dirty work, while he just stood by and gave orders.