Andrew who was shaken by the Brotherhood of Silent Virtue’s forced conscription couldn’t get up for over five minutes as his legs gave out.
“When I was a kid, Chapel wasn’t such a scary place…”
“Wherever people live, peace never lasts.”
The Thieves’ Guild, spy networks, and even the cancerous cells of religious cult—
Even just looking at the slums, so many factions were moving in the shadows of Lambart, the royal capital and main stage of Candela of Judgment.
In fact, wasn’t the main story itself about these groups causing disasters big and small, threatening the kingdom’s survival?
I thought about the countless seeds of disaster hidden within the city. The Longsoniere bombing I was trying to stop, cultists attempting demon summoning, the outbreak of civil war, the rise of vampires or undead on a massive scale…
The Laurencia Kingdom was fated to face one disastrous event after another. Disasters big enough to topple the nation ten times over.
But in the original game, all of these events only occurred because the Longsoniere bombing had crippled the kingdom’s administration.
So what if I could prevent just that bombing?
With its ability to respond intact, the kingdom should be able to overcome the other crises on its own.
That meant I had to keep moving.
I kicked Andrew lightly on the rear.
“Get up. How long are you going to sit on the dirt?”
“Ugh… we’ve already got a story worth writing… can’t we go back now, Mr. Goodman?”
Not a chance.
It was still only late lunch, and I hadn’t found a single one of Sakis Lubas’s hideouts yet.
“If we go that way, there’s a restaurant. Let’s rest there for a bit.”
“That’s a wonderful idea! I was getting thirsty anyway. And a bit hungry too. Ah, but, Mr. Goodman…”
He hesitated, watching my expression.
“What is it?”
“Could you… lend me some money?”
“..…?”
“I already lost all my money to the kids at the orphanage earlier.”
“…Lunch is on me, then.”
“Ha! I knew I could count on you!”
Andrew followed me gleefully.
Gray Chapel was full of restaurants that doubled as taverns, so every time Andrew spotted one, he’d chatter:
“Oh, how about that one?”
“Look over there!”
“That place says you get a free beer with lunch!”
But I ignored him and kept walking ahead with determination.
I already had a restaurant in mind.
On the outskirts of Gray Chapel, along a rarely traveled street, stood a shabby two-story building.
It looked more like an abandoned house. Its windows were clouded with grime so thick you couldn’t see inside.
The sign hung crookedly with faded letters spelling out: Big Bear.
A murky puddle pooled at the entrance, the kind you wouldn’t want to step in.
So Andrew’s question wasn’t unreasonable.
“Is this really a restaurant?”
“It is.”
“Hmm. So it’s one of those hidden gems only locals know about, huh?”
Hidden, yes…but not in the way he thought.
Because this place was actually one of the Longsoniere spy unit’s safehouses, disguised as a tavern.
***
Thankfully, this base was just as I remembered.
From the start, it had never been meant to receive real customers.
Chairs were stacked upside down on the tables as if for cleaning, but even those upside-down legs were caked in layers of dust, millimeters thick.
The windows were boarded up with planks, leaving the interior gloomy and damp-smelling.
Thin beams of natural light filtered through occasional holes in the ceiling, catching on the dust particles drifting lazily through the air.
And within that eerie scene, a sinister unsettling sound echoed in a steady rhythm.
Squish. Squish.
The noise of something wet being crushed under force.
Andrew turned his head toward the source and at last realized why this place bore the name Big Bear.
In the kitchen stood a man as huge as a brown bear, with a thick, unkempt beard.
He wore a fearsome expression as he brought a butcher’s cleaver down again and again.
Each wet squish sent sprays of blood and bits of flesh across his front apron.
Even when customers stepped inside, the man didn’t spare us a glance. He just kept chopping like a machine.
Andrew lowered his voice and whispered to me,
“He’s… cutting meat, right? Like beef or pork? Not… not human, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“……”
Leaving Andrew pale and trembling, I walked over and sat at the bar counter.
Unlike the dining area, the bar showed signs of regular use and was relatively clean.
The owner turned to glare at me while never once halting his relentless chopping.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Isn’t it obvious? A customer.”
The innkeeper’s already intimidating face darkened further, as if he were ready to gut someone right there.
Andrew panicked and hurried forward.
“H-Hello, sir! Uh, we, um… thought this was a restaurant. This is a restaurant, right?”
“Business is closed. Get out.”
“Oh, like… break time? I mean, we did come a bit late, haha. Totally understandable. Mr. Goodman? He says they’re closed, maybe we should just leave?”
“Pour me a glass of water. I’m thirsty.”
“You deaf? I said we’re not serving.”
[Warning]
[A death flag has been raised]
That familiar, tingling warning…it had been a while since I’d felt it.
No real worker in the world would ever try to kill a customer just because he didn’t feel like serving.
I knew then that the man was a subordinate of Sakis Lubas, and so, deliberately provocative, I pulled a silver coin from my pocket and slapped it onto the counter.
“If it’s payment you want, this should be more than enough. Bring me a meal.”
This place was only a cover. It was a restaurant in name alone.
But the very fact that they took the disguise seriously was their weakness.
A single 20 blanc silver coin was far too much for a simple meal. It was practically free money falling into his lap.
If he wanted to avoid arousing suspicion, then even a fake restaurant owner had no choice but to at least put on the act of serving food.
Sure enough, the bear-like innkeeper glared at me for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
Finally, he stripped off his butcher’s gloves and bloodied apron.
He scooped up the silver coin and placed down a lukewarm bottle of water and two dirty-looking cups, showing no hospitality whatsoever.
“Water’s self-serve.”
I didn’t hesitate. I turned to my side.
“Andrew.”
“Yes?”
“Wipe the cups.”
“…Why me?”
“Can’t you see the dust?”
“Yeah, but why me…?”
“Seems you’ve forgotten who’s paying.”
Andrew’s face soured, but with no choice, he pulled out his handkerchief and started polishing the cups.
He scrubbed so hard the cloth squeaked against the glass.
Meanwhile, as the innkeeper busied himself preparing food, I began my own task—
Carefully, slowly, I expanded my mana field.
It was to search for Caraphine, which was likely inside the Longsoniere base.
First, I checked the restaurant owner.
If he was a mage, he might notice that I was secretly scouting the inside of the store.
However, I couldn’t sense any mana field from him.
He was an ordinary man with no magical training, so I expanded my detection range more boldly and freely.
Halfway through scanning the building, the food arrived.
“Hurry up and eat, then get out of my sight.”
Despite the gruff service, the food was properly prepared.
Thick-cut potatoes fried in pork fat and tossed with coarse salt, chilled mashed peas mixed with lemon juice, honey, and a bit of herbs, and an omelet baked with cream sauce and fish fillet were served with warm bread on the table.
Andrew who was drooling suddenly asked,
“But is there no meat? I saw you cutting meat earlier.”
“That’s for dinner.”
The look on the man’s face suggested he might grab his butcher’s knife if Andrew said one more word, so Andrew simply nodded and turned his attention to the food.
“Well then, thank you for the meal. Ow—hot!”
Biting into a piece of fried potato, Andrew burned the roof of his mouth, but he quickly began to enjoy the meal.
“Wow, these fries are thick and crispy but perfectly cooked….super moist inside. And the rich cream sauce with the soft eggs in the omelet? Perfect match. When it starts to feel a bit too heavy, you mix in these sweet and tangy mushy peas… ahh, makes me crave a beer.”
“Do you really have to eat with your mouth running?”
“Come on, you paid for the meal. How could I not? Don’t you feel good hearing how much I’m enjoying it, Mr. Goodman?”
“……”
At a loss for words, I fell silent. I had never heard such a bizarre idea in my life.
In any case, seeing Andrew chew and swallow first meant the food wasn’t poisoned or anything like that.
I reached for the food as well.
The seasoning was a bit light, and it lacked some freshness, but the menu itself wasn’t bad.
I also liked that it had a hint of exotic flavor.
I casually threw out a comment.
“The owner’s cooking doesn’t seem local. Are you from Libron, by any chance?”
[Warning]
[A death flag has been raised]
The warning went off, delighted that I guessed the spy’s place of origin.
He tried hard to hide his tense expression and asked me,
“Does it not suit your taste?”
“No, my wife’s family is from Libron.”
Thinking we might be from the same region, he eased up a little.
“Well, nothing beats a mother-in-law’s cooking, right?”
“My mother-in-law passed away early, so I never even saw her face. Only my father-in-law is around.”
“……”
His expression twisted.
He looked like he was thinking, “What the hell is this guy?”
[Warning]
[A death flag has been raised]
This time, the new flag might’ve just been because he took a disliking to me and felt like killing me.
As I pondered how to dig deeper and get more of a reaction out of this spy bastard, another customer came into the restaurant.
Jingle jingle.
At the sound of the doorbell, I turned around and the first thing I saw was a short, golden bob falling diagonally along her jawline.
A lively-looking girl stood at the door. She was wearing a box-fit T-shirt, a short leather skirt, and strap boots that came up to her knees.
“Here for the salad.”
A mana field rippled.
The girl was a mage.
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