Treating Someone to a Meal Is No Simple Matter...

Seated at a table in the shop, with a round "onigiri" beside him, Wu Shaoyou nervously wore a large bandage around his head, covering nearly half his face.

After hastily tidying himself up, especially after undoing his combatant "transformation," he no longer looked all that strange.

Still, looking at the bowl of ramen before him, which contained almost nothing besides bean sprouts and natto, the chubby young man felt rather awkward.

Ah, don't get the wrong idea. That was simply because the person beside him had directly snatched all the pork and eggs from his bowl.

And as the one paying the bill, he could only dare to be angry without daring to speak.

Picking a fight with me was like kicking cotton. JPG.

By comparison, this middle-aged drifter named Jin Takayama clearly had plenty of experience eating at shops. At the very least, before entering, he had proactively put on a pair of battered sunglasses—well, not everyone could accept those pale eyes, as though they had been mixed with the color of dead ash.

This distinctly "carnivorous" middle-aged man had unceremoniously ordered two extra-large chashu ramen bowls, then, once the noodles arrived, quite naturally seized the meat from someone else's bowl.

Looking at his messy gray hair and the way he ate like a starving ghost reincarnated, Wu Shaoyou found it hard to imagine that the terrifying red piranha-like figure from earlier and this drifter intently dealing with his bowl were actually the same "person."

But there was no helping it. When the Main God had thrown them into this world, tourists like them had apparently been given no usable identities, aside from an extra stack of Fukuzawa Yukichi in their pockets.

So, after the other party rejected the notion of "payment," the only way he could repay his