"Hey, hey, hey, why do they have roast duck?"
At the table across from them, someone shouted at the bartender:
"I'm hungry too. Bring some to our table as well."
The speaker was a Pipici. He looked rather young, but he had a grizzled beard that did not match his face.
Putting on the air of a little adult, he raised his hand, glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, and urged:
"Hurry up. I have another meeting afterward, and I'm leaving as soon as I finish eating."
Seeing this, Anda, who stood by the bar, said to the Pipici:
"Sorry, this is a bar. As a rule, we do not provide food other than drinks."
"As for the food those three guests have, they probably brought it themselves."
"If you need something, honored guest, you can visit the banquet hall. There will be dedicated staff there replenishing the food."
"The banquet hall?" The Pipici frowned.
"Of course I know there's food there, but I looked, and there wasn't any roast duck."
"That weird stuff might look good, but it doesn't taste good."
"Honestly, it's not even as good as the roast chicken, roast duck, or braised pork from street stalls."
"As the Land of Dreams, you can't even make local specialty dishes?"
Hearing that, Anda the tuner shook his head and sighed.
"Sir, please do not question the staffing arrangements aboard the Fleeting Starlight. The foods you mentioned are, of course, available."
"If you didn't see them in the banquet hall, perhaps you did not submit a customized request to the staff, or perhaps the personnel specifically responsible for such things were temporarily delayed by other work..."
The Pipici's eye twitched.
Everyone was not stupid. They all knew what was happening aboard the Fleeting Starlight right now.
Terrorists had