As long as it wasn't a blood feud, there was no problem at sea that a drink couldn't solve. If one drink wasn't enough, then have two!
Hearing that Sifa was buying, the three men stopped fighting. The burly adventurer shouted, "If we're drinking, it has to be Leraghi. If it's that Zarha watered down like piss, I don't want any."
"Your choice."
Sifa pointed at the counter. "A glass of Leraghi for everyone here. Put it on my tab."
"Rayleigh!" Sifa called out loudly. Then he walked to the bar, grabbed a handful of banknotes worth roughly one pound, and tossed them onto the counter. "Let me know if it isn't enough."
"Yes, sir."
There was no shortage of big spenders at sea, but people like Sifa, who bought everyone a drink on their first visit, were rare.
For a time, countless gazes, open and covert alike, settled on Sifa.
Sifa ordered himself a glass of Leraghi as well. It was a strong liquor with no small amount of alcohol; after swallowing it, his stomach seemed to catch fire. He exhaled and cried, "That hits the spot!"
"Looks like you just made a fortune."
An aged voice sounded beside him.
Sifa looked over and saw an old man. His white hair was sparse, leaving only a thin layer. He was tall and sturdy, his muscles not yet slack, and his light-brown eyes were clear, bright, and sharp.
He also held a glass of Leraghi, clearly benefiting from Sifa's generosity.
Sifa nodded fearlessly. "That's right. The sea really is a wonderful place."
The old man chuckled. "The sea is indeed not bad, but don't you think you're drawing too much attention?"
Sifa shrugged. "What does it matter?"
The old man glanced at him. "Aren't you worried that someone might always