It wore an apron stained with grease. Its scales gleamed dark green in the sunlight, and its slender tongue occasionally slipped from its mouth to lick the corners of its lips.
After hearing their conversation, its vertical pupils shifted. Then, with lightning speed, it shot out its tongue—the thin tongue left an afterimage in the air as it accurately curled one of the flies into its mouth.
Chew. Swallow.
"Oh, this must be some kind of food." March 7th nodded in understanding.
She casually scooped up a fly as well and examined it at her fingertips for a moment—the fly struggled between her fingers, its wings buzzing.
Then she closed her eyes and tossed it into her mouth, chewing.
"Mmm mmm mmm..." she mumbled through her chewing. "This is like stinky tofu... It looks disgusting, but it tastes good... Huh? Why is it so bitter...?"
"Because that's an actual fly," the lizard vendor suddenly said.
March 7th: "..."
Her expression froze, and her chewing slowly stopped.
The lizard looked at her, a hint of curiosity in its vertical pupils.
"I thought no human would eat the food of our kind. Seems I haven't seen enough."
Its tone carried a touch of sentimentality.
"The big city really is different. There are all kinds of people..."
"Then why are there flies on your stall?!" March 7th frowned, her face turning shades of purple and green as her lips trembled.
"They didn't sell out three days ago, so the ingredients have started to rot a little." The lizard spoke lazily, stirring the ingredients boiling pale in the pot with its claws.
"It's normal for that to attract flies. Humans don't eat them, but I do."
"Damn, that's filthy." Yan Huan's eyes widened as he instinctively took a step back.
"You can still sell