After registering the party at the Adventurer Guild and saying goodbye to Hulk, it was already completely dark.
He had arrived in Rose Town at noon in Annis's carriage and gone straight to the Adventurer Guild. He had been rushing around ever since.
All he'd eaten that day was a skewer of Dragon's Breath barbecue at noon. By now, his stomach was completely empty, and he was starving.
Bruce looked especially aggrieved. To him, eating was the most important thing in a dog's life, and everything else had to wait.
He Xi had originally planned to take advantage of the night and explore this strange little town. Before crossing over, that had been his favorite way to pass the time whenever he arrived in a new city.
But he'd have to skip it tonight.
There wasn't much he needed to buy for now. He already had a waterskin and bedding, and he'd just asked Hulk about a rain tarp. Hulk would bring one.
"Forget it. First, I'll fill my stomach and find somewhere to stay. Getting some rest so I'm ready for tomorrow's mission is what matters."
Instead of heading back along the main road he'd taken at noon, he turned at random into an alley with a moderate amount of foot traffic and reasonably bright lights.
The signs of the shops on either side were barely visible beneath the dim yellow glow of the Magic Lamps.
"Delicious Rose"—looked like a restaurant.
"The Black Cat Tavern"—a somewhat mysterious tavern?
"Orcs and Lutes?" That name caught He Xi's attention.
He stopped and eyed the sign, which had been carved from rough wood.
The lute was an instrument known for its delicate, lilting tones. What did it have to do with the rough-and-tumble orcs?
"Could the owner be an orc bard?"
The image was bizarre, to say the least.
But the rich aroma of food wafting out the door told him this was definitely a restaurant.
He walked up and pushed open the heavy oak door.
"Ding-a-ling—"
The door struck the copper bell behind it, ringing out clearly.
The moment he stepped into the tavern, a rich blend of charred roast meat, full-bodied ale, and some strange spices hit him.
The hall was spacious but low-ceilinged. A few soot-blackened iron lanterns hung from the thick beams overhead, casting wavering yellow light.
The walls were made of rough, unplastered stone, with a little moss stuffed into the cracks.
A few faded family banners and a huge Cracked Hoof Bull skull decorated the most prominent wall.
The tables and chairs were made of sturdy wood. The edges had been smoothed by countless patrons' arms, while the tabletops were scarred with knife marks and deep white rings left by drinking cups.
The bar had been made by splitting open an enormous ancient tree. It was coated in thick resin, smooth in some places and rough in others.
Behind it, wooden shelves lined the wall, displaying kegs and earthenware jars of all shapes and sizes. The labels listed names and prices in Common and a rugged-looking script that He Xi guessed was Orcish.
A particularly conspicuous black iron keg had a wooden sign hanging from it. In red paint, it read: "Grimm's Private Brew—Drink at Your Own Risk."
By the wall to the right stood a huge stone fireplace. Half a small Cracked Hoof Bull, skinned and gutted, was slowly turning over the flames, its fat dripping into the fire with a steady sizzle.
A massive double-bladed Battle Axe leaned casually beside the fireplace.
In that spot, it looked like a handy kitchen tool, but He Xi had no doubt it could be snatched up and used as a weapon at any moment.
There weren't many customers inside.
In the corner, a few older adventurers sat together, their armor clanking as they seemed to play some sort of card game.
At another table, two hooded figures silently cut at the meat on their plates.
In a dim corner, someone in a gray robe faced the wall and muttered to himself. Every now and then, a tiny orange spark crackled at his fingertips.
"A fire mage?"
A voice interrupted He Xi's thoughts.
"New face, huh?"
The low, hoarse voice came from the towering figure behind the bar.
"What are you standing there for? Either come in and find a seat or go outside and shut the door. Don't let the cold in."
A figure nearly two meters tall emerged from the shadows behind the bar.
He had gray-green skin, thick tusks jutting up from his lower lip, and a vicious scar crossing his left eye. Ancient battle tattoos covered his heavily muscled arms. At that moment, he was wiping a horn cup with a rough cloth.
"What'll it be? Dwarven ale, elven wine, or... a real glass of Orcish Liquor?" He grinned, his tusks lifting with his lips. "Don't order mead. That stuff's for women who haven't been weaned."
He Xi regarded the owner with some surprise.
"A Half-Orc?"
He figured that explained the tavern's name.
"I'll have what you recommended." He Xi walked up to the bar, his tone calm. "A real glass of Orcish Liquor."
The Half-Orc owner paused in the middle of wiping the cup and gave He Xi's seemingly slender frame a careful look with his one good eye. "You sure?"
He Xi smiled. "Of course."
He wasn't especially fond of hard liquor. He'd ordered it mainly to get on friendly terms with an owner who looked like he had plenty of stories to tell, raise his Favorability, and see if he could extract a trait.
As for the risk of getting drunk? He wasn't worried at all. No matter how advanced this world's brewing techniques were, the strongest liquor could only be as potent as high-proof baijiu from his previous life. Besides, he had [Adamantine Stomach].
"Do you have anything to eat?"
As the Half-Orc owner poured the liquor from the black iron keg, he replied, "For a main course, we've got our signature roasted Cracked Hoof Bull ribs, or stonejaw meat pie. The stew's sold out for today. For snacks, we've got smoked jerky with hard cheese, or roasted forest giant mushrooms."
"I'll have a serving of roasted Cracked Hoof Bull ribs, and then..." He Xi looked at the huge roasting spit, estimating the portion size.
The Half-Orc owner cut him off and set a cup of pungent liquor down in front of him with a thunk. "Listen to me, kid. Start with one serving of ribs.
"One serving of my Cracked Hoof Bull ribs is enough to fill the belly of a warrior who's been hungry all day. If you're still hungry when you're done, you can order more."
He Xi picked up the liquor, its strong alcoholic smell wafting into his nose, and nodded. "Then I'll have one serving. If you can, please give me some extra bones."
He pointed at Bruce, who was gazing longingly at the roast meat by the fireplace. "This guy likes gnawing on bones."
"No problem." The Half-Orc owner turned toward the fireplace and roasting spit.
Only then did He Xi notice a yellowed piece of parchment nailed to one corner of the bar. A few rules were written on it in messy but forceful handwriting:
Rules:
1. Pay first.
2. Don't touch the servers (unless you can beat me).
3. Take your fights outside.
4. Pay your debts with your teeth.
He hurriedly called after the owner. "Wait! I forgot to ask—how much is it altogether?"
As he spoke, he reached into his pocket for his money pouch.
[Half-Orc Grimm's Favorability toward you has increased. Parsing Points +5]
Before you continue