In the city, at an unassuming little noodle shop.
The moment Blanc and the Guild Master lifted the door curtain, they saw an absurd mountain of empty bowls already piled on the table by the window.
A red-haired middle-aged man was hunched over his noodles, shoveling them down without a shred of dignity. Across from him, the diminutive old Yajima held a teacup, sipping leisurely.
Noticing the movement at the entrance, Yajima raised his eyes and waved to the pair outside with a smile.
"Oh, Makarov, Blanc. You got here pretty quickly."
The red-haired man froze mid-feast.
He slowly raised his head, half a noodle still dangling from his mouth, and met the Guild Master's increasingly dangerous gaze at the entrance.
"...Hey, Guild Master. Fancy seeing you here."
"Gildarts!!!"
Makarov lunged forward in a blur, seized him firmly by the collar, and shook him furiously.
"You little bastard! What the hell were you up to?! Getting yourself locked up without a word was bad enough, but you actually demolished the Magic Council headquarters! Do you have any idea how close you came to scaring the life out of me in front of Ogre?!"
"Oh, come on, it was an accident..." Gildarts scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "There were quite a few tough opponents among the enemies. I figured I should get serious, and then I went just a tiny bit too far..."
"You call that a tiny bit?! The entire Magic Council is gone!"
The Guild Master's mustache bristled with anger. He turned to glare at Yajima, who was watching from the sidelines. "Yaji! If you knew he was in prison, why didn't you tell me?!"
Seeing this, Gildarts hurriedly winked and made faces at old Yajima.
"Oh, I'm getting old. My memory isn't what it used to