The last of his father's tools had been traded, the clink of silver coins a satisfying counterpoint to the gnawing emptiness in Ji-woo's stomach.  He'd been so focused on selling, on establishing himself as a merchant, that he'd forgotten a fundamental human need: food.  His stomach rumbled in protest, a loud, insistent growl that echoed through the bustling marketplace.

He hadn't eaten since… well, since before he jumped from the cliff.  The thought made him shudder.  It felt like a lifetime ago.  He'd been so consumed by grief, by the sheer impossibility of his situation, that food had been the last thing on his mind.  Now, however, his body was making its demands clear.

He looked around the market, his eyes scanning the stalls overflowing with unfamiliar delicacies.  He saw fruits and vegetables in vibrant hues he'd never seen before, roasted meats emitting tantalizing aromas, and baked goods that looked both delicious and bizarre.  His mouth watered.  He was eager to try the local cuisine, to experience the flavors of Aethel.

He spotted a stall selling what looked like skewers of grilled meat.  They sizzled over a small charcoal fire, the smoke curling upwards, carrying a mouthwatering scent.  They looked similar to the yakitori he enjoyed back home, a familiar comfort in this strange new world.  He pointed to a skewer, and the stall owner, a stout man with a jovial laugh, handed it to him.

Ji-woo paid him a few copper coins, the price surprisingly affordable.  He took the skewer and walked away, eager to sample his first Aethellian treat.  He took a bite.  The meat was tender, juicy, and… familiar.  It tasted like… well, like grilled meat.  Good, but not particularly exciting.  He chewed thoughtfully, trying to discern any hint of seasoning, any trace of spice.  Nothing.  It tasted like… roasted meat. Perfectly cooked, but utterly devoid of any distinctive flavor.

He shrugged.  Perhaps it was just a simple, unseasoned cut.  He continued to wander through the market, determined to find something more flavorful.  He saw another stall selling what looked like fried dough, puffed up and golden brown.  They resembled the beignets he'd had in New Orleans once, a distant memory that suddenly felt very close.  He bought a couple, paying with more copper coins.

He took a bite.  The dough was light and fluffy, but… bland.  Again!  He was starting to feel like he was trapped in a world where flavor had been outlawed.  It was like eating air, a pleasant texture but no real taste.

He sat down on a nearby bench, his skewer of plain meat and his bag of flavorless beignets beside him. He watched as other villagers devoured their meals with gusto, their faces expressing satisfaction.  Were they all just pretending the food tasted good?  Or was there something wrong with his taste buds?

He noticed a small stall tucked away in a corner of the market.  It was different from the other stalls, its shelves filled with small jars and bottles containing powders and liquids of various colors.  A sign above the stall read, "Spices of the Realm."

Spices!  Of course!  He had heard whispers in the market about spices being a luxury in Aethel, worth more than their weight in silver.  They were rare, expensive, and highly prized.  That explained the blandness of the food.  The villagers simply couldn't afford them.

He approached the stall cautiously.  The stall owner, a wizened old man with a twinkle in his eye, greeted him with a knowing smile.  "Looking for something to add a little… zest… to your meal, traveler?" he asked.

Ji-woo nodded eagerly.  "Yes!  I've tried some of the food here, but it's… bland.  Do you have anything that can add some flavor?"

The old man chuckled.  "Flavor, you say?  Ah, flavor is a precious commodity in Aethel.  It is a gift, a treasure."

He reached for a small jar filled with a reddish powder.  "This," he said, holding up the jar, "is Fire Dust.  A pinch of this will ignite your taste buds, awaken your senses."

He opened the jar, and a pungent aroma filled the air.  It smelled… spicy!  Ji-woo's mouth watered.

"How much?" he asked, his voice eager.

The old man's smile faded.  "Fire Dust is… expensive," he said.  "One silver coin for a pinch."

One silver coin?  For a pinch?  Ji-woo was shocked.  He had spent less than that on his entire meal.  He realized that spices were indeed a luxury in Aethel, a privilege reserved for the wealthy.

He sighed.  He couldn't afford it.  He thanked the old man and turned away, his stomach growling in disappointment.  He would have to endure the bland food, at least for now.  He would have to find another way to add flavor to his meals, perhaps by experimenting with different combinations of fruits and vegetables.  Or perhaps… he could find a way to bring spices from his world.  That thought sparked a new idea.  He might not be able to afford them now, but perhaps he could trade for them later.  It was something to consider.

He continued to wander through the market, his enthusiasm for Aethellian cuisine significantly dampened.  He finished his skewer and his beignets, the texture pleasant but the taste… lacking.  He resigned himself to a life of mostly tasteless meals, at least until he could afford some spices.

He thought about his future as a merchant.  Perhaps he could trade for spices, bring them from his world to Aethel.  It was a risky proposition, but the potential rewards were enormous.  He could become the spice king of Aethel!

The thought made him smile.  He might be stuck eating bland food for now, but he had a plan.  He would find a way to bring flavor to Aethel, and in doing so, he would make his fortune.  He was Ji-woo, the (future) spice merchant, and his culinary journey had just begun.  Even if it was starting on a rather… tasteless… note.