"If not roasted meat, then how about hot pot?"
After briefly considering the available food options, this was the only suitable idea Lot could come up with.
Though peppers didn't exist in this era's Britain, that wasn't an issue—Lot had cheats.
As a transmigrator, it'd be downright embarrassing not to have a few cheats up his sleeve.
Hell, other transmigrators would probably laugh at him if he didn't.
That said, Lot's cheat was… decidedly underwhelming in practicality.
His cheat was called—
"An Angler Never Returns Empty-Handed."
Just from the name alone, one could guess what kind of being had designed this system.
This cheat allowed Lot to wield a fishing rod within the River of Time, casting it randomly to hook any object from any era.
However, the hooked item could not exceed the rod's weight limit.
Additionally, the rod itself had to be something Lot could handle alone.
Given that Britain's material sciences in this era were primitive—with no bamboo in sight—the rod had to be crafted from flexible wood. Naturally, this limited the size of what he could catch.
Weight restrictions. Random time periods.
"Never returns empty-handed" only guaranteed that he'd catch something—not that it'd be useful.
For instance, Lot had once fished up a fossil.
The hell am I supposed to do with this?!
Another time, he'd pulled out a smartphone.
Great. Now where's the signal? The network?
I can't even get past the facial recognition! Useless!
Thus, Lot's castle was now home to a growing collection of utterly useless items.
Technological progress and productivity development couldn't be achieved through a handful of random trinkets—and as a humanities major in his past life, Lot could only use his catches to improve his daily life.
Like right now, for example.
He, Morgan, and Merlin were gathered around a pot of spicy hot pot.
"Is… this really edible?"
Morgan's lips trembled slightly as she stared at the fiery red broth bubbling in the pot.
She had removed her veil, revealing her face in full.
Though compared to the two-dimensional versions, hers was even cuter. The way she balanced both elegance and charm on a single face was truly captivating.
She's not a Saber-face.
King Uther's eldest daughter.
Lot couldn't help but grin internally at the thought.
Right now, her hesitant, slightly fearful expression was adorable.
"Go ahead and try it. It's not like I'd poison you."
His tone was gentle, reassuring.
Morgan relaxed slightly—but her eyes lingered on the food and utensils with the same confusion as before.
How did he make all this?
Just how much does Lot know?
Her curiosity burned stronger.
She wanted to dive back into his thoughts, but the fatigue weighing on her mind warned her—
Not yet. You need to rest.
At least wait until tomorrow.
For now, she'd focus on the meal.
"Oh, this is perfectly fine."
Merlin, already digging in, chimed in cheerfully.
Though it was his first time using chopsticks, he wielded them with surprising ease.
He plucked a slice of lamb, popped it into his mouth—
His eyes crinkled with amusement as the spicy heat flooded his senses.
Seeing Merlin unharmed, Morgan tentatively followed suit.
"Ah—! It's so spicy!!"
A pitiful cry escaped her.
Merlin burst into laughter.
"Some flavors are just too much for a Briton of this era to handle."
Lot winced apologetically.
"Sorry, my bad. Here, try the clear broth instead."
Morgan nodded weakly, then picked up another slice of lamb—this time dipping it into the mild broth and a light sauce.
The moment it touched her tongue, her expression brightened.
Even in the future, Britain wasn't exactly known for its cuisine. In this era? It was downright abysmal.
Lot's seasonings—fished from future timelines—were nothing short of a culinary revolution for this age.
To Morgan, it was heavenly.
She began eating in earnest.
That said, in at least one regard, she was no match for her sister.
If her sister were here, not just the meat—the entire pot would've vanished by now.
Morgan, however, stopped after a modest portion.
Merlin, ever perceptive, had already excused himself at some point, leaving just the two of them.
Alone now, Morgan hesitated.
She wanted to ask about that earlier mention of a sister—but how?
"Something on your mind?"
Lot's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"I…" She paused, then settled on a safer question. "I was just curious about you. These things… they clearly aren't from Britain. How did you create them?"
"Ah, that's a man's secret."
Lot smirked, dodging the question.
His cheat might not be world-changing, but it was still a trump card he couldn't afford to reveal.
If others knew, I'd lose the advantage.
Undeterred, Morgan pressed further.
"Do you have… more things ?"
She wanted to understand him—to uncover the truth behind his earlier thoughts.
And if what he'd implied was real…
Some things, I can't afford to lose.
Lot met her gaze, his smile softening.
"When we return, I'll show you plenty more."