The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World (Light Novel), Volume 7 Chapter 2

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Volume Seven, Chapter Two

“A-ah, ah… I still kind of feel like I’m swaying a little…”

With my feet firmly planted on solid ground, I stretch my arms high and give my body a good stretch while looking up at the ship we’d just been on. I haven’t gotten seasick, but it feels like my vestibular system, which has been rocked by the waves the whole time, still hasn’t fully adjusted to the unmoving ground! It is basically the same sensation as getting off a fishing boat after spending the whole day aboard. If this gets any worse, I guess it turns into what they call "land sickness.”

While continuing to stimulate the seasickness acupressure points I’ve been using on the ship, I slowly survey the area around me to distract myself. Aios Island’s harbor, though somewhat smaller in scale compared to Ellarge’s harbor, has just as many workers and just as much bustling energy as Ellarge did. Well, of course—this is the island’s lifeline, after all. No wonder the people working here are putting in their all.

There are also quite a lot of ships docked here. Most of them are about the size of a slightly bigger passenger fishing boat, but I also spot some larger mid-sized ships here and there, and even bigger ships that look like they carry cargo.

“Where can I catch the ferry to Wogi Port?”

“That’s from pier five! Please buy your ticket at the boarding gate.”

“Excuse me, where does the ship to Aweek Port leave from?”

“For Aweek, that’s pier eight! Be careful not to get lost!”

Here and there in the crowd, I catch snatches of people asking about ferry docks. I see, I see… so this port, being the only one that can accommodate large ships, acts as a hub, with ferries branching out to each smaller port like different bus routes to different destinations. Makes sense as a transportation setup unique to an island surrounded by sea.

The small and mid-sized ships I saw earlier must be these ferries, right? Probably not powerful enough for open ocean, but fine for coastal routes close to land.

Since the port serves something like a terminal station, security is apparently quite strict. In particular, the moment a large ship like the one we’ve arrived on docks, people who look like guards are stationed at each gangway to check passengers as they get on and off, while additional security personnel come around and keep watch. I suppose they’re making sure there aren’t any stowaways.

We got our boarding records and guild card IDs checked right as we stepped off the ship too.

“Ahh… That’s been a much more eventful time than I expected. The power of fishing is incredible!”

Still, now that it’s over… the voyage somehow feels like it’s gone by in the blink of an eye!

Hauling in a giant fish in front of the whole crowd and then serving up food alongside the ship’s cook is more than enough to pique the passengers’ interest. I got recognized as "the fishing girl" or "the cooking one"; people would come up and talk to me here and there, share fishing spots on the island with me. Sometimes they even invite me to play card games, so I barely have a moment to even think about being bored.

For what it’s worth, since I’d brightened up one of the meals aboard, I even got little extras handed to me from the ship’s kitchen at every mealtime after that. Short as the trip was, I really got to spend a wonderfully good time out there!

As a result of that fun time, all the snacks passengers gave me, and the bits and pieces from the galley crew have added up to a fair bit of weight now. What’s going on, having more ingredients now than when I boarded? Well, even if that’s the situation, I’ve got a powerful ally on my side for exactly this!

“Miso! Mind carrying this tote bag again?”

‘Hmph! Of course! This me, mighty, after all! That much’s easy!’

“Thanks for always helping me out, Miso.”

Just like on the way here, I ask Gomamiso to carry the tote bag loaded with ingredients, and the cat takes it on with its usual smug pride. Is this what you’d call endearing? Half genuinely, half just to flatter it, I praise Gomamiso, now grown big and in high spirits, and its face lighting up with absurd delight is honestly cute too.

I tousle the head of the lynx, who narrows its eyes proudly with a satisfied “Mmmph,” and its contented purring rumbles through the air loudly enough to rival the surrounding din.

“This has given us a good opportunity to gather all sorts of information, hasn’t it?”

“Fishing spots, sure, but we also got to hear about sightseeing spots on Aios Island too.”

Now that someone’s taken on carrying the load, I hoist the bag on my shoulder again, and beside me, Mr. Ville’s offhand remark draws a wide grin and firm nod from me.

Actually, while chatting with the other passengers on the ship, I asked around not just about fishing spots on Aios Island but also sightseeing highlights and favorite local restaurants. And the recommendations just keep coming… scenic hidden gems, a place with an exterior you’d hesitate to even walk into but serves incredible seafood pasta, and so on.

“Yeah… those are definitely good leads, but… to be honest, the security situation here seems a lot better than I expected.”

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing.”

Beside my giddy self, Mr. Ville crosses his arms, brow furrowing in a troubled way.

Yup. That’s exactly it. This job’s request was to "thoroughly investigate the actual state of things on Aios Island"… but somehow, it doesn’t feel like there’s enough unrest here to warrant a request like that at all. I’d been expecting to catch bits of ominous talk—some distant town in turmoil, a skirmish breaking out at some way station somewhere—but it feels like a bit of a letdown, honestly. Maybe, just maybe, we can actually enjoy this as a purely fun sightseeing trip this time while completing the request!?

“Yo, you two! Got the fish all wrapped up for you! I threw in the bones and scraps too, so enjoy!”

“Wow, thank you so much!”

“Even though it’s been on ice, it’s still raw, so best to eat it soon… Though, looking at how you all eat, I guess it’ll be gone in no time.”

The bright voice cutting through my half-excited-for-sightseeing, half-uneasy feelings belongs to Mr. Captain. Tucked under his arm is the rest of the Spear Tunia, wrapped up in green leaves even bigger than the now-familiar Zeeram leaf. "The rest" still amounts to a hefty armful. Looks pretty heavy too, but once we’re off the ship, I’ve got the Camping Car to rely on. However big it is, once it’s handed off to the fridge and freezer, no problem at all!

As I reach out to take the fish from Mr. Captain, beaming a smile bright as the sun, a solid, hefty weight settles into my hands. Through the many layers of wrapped leaves, a chill seeps through.

“Come to think of it, what are you planning to do from here?”

“Oh, um… A friend of ours has family here, so we’re thinking of visiting them while doing some sightseeing.”

“Sightseeing, huh? The food here is good, and the sea breeze feels great, so it’s a nice place to have some fun and relax before heading home… but…”

Figuring I shouldn’t just chatter away about private matters, I keep it a bit vague when I answer, but Mr. Captain’s smile clouds over instantly. Given his position, regularly sailing back and forth between the island and Ellarge, he’d naturally hear a lot of local gossip—for him to make a face like that, is something up here…?

With a bad feeling growing steadily more real, my brow furrows, and the giant fish in my arms seems to keep getting heavier and heavier somehow. While I hesitate between setting the bag down or just listening to what Mr. Captain has to say, the weight suddenly vanishes from my arms. An arm reaching in from the side has taken the fish off my hands instead.

“Eh, ah… Mr. Ville?”

“It looks pretty heavy, I’ll carry it. For now, let’s hear him out.”

“…Right. Please do!”

I reflexively reach out to take it back, but Mr. Ville’s words bring me to my senses. Sure, carrying luggage is my job, but there’s no need to squabble over it in public.

“Um… is there something that’s troubling you?”

“Well, the towns around this port are fine, but the town on the other side of the mountains… I keep hearing that things have been getting pretty shady there lately. So I wouldn’t really recommend heading that way.”

Scratching his head, Mr. Captain tells us that about a year ago, the lord overseeing the island apparently changed, and ever since, there’s been some ongoing turmoil, or so the rumors go—something about the new lord’s policies not lining up with what’s actually happening on the ground. Mr. Captain himself has never been out to that town, but doing business with the islanders as he does, plenty of information reaches his ears.

“From what I hear, when the new lord took over, there was talk of ‘improving the working conditions of the people employed in the mines,’ and apparently an official decree to that effect even comes out. But I keep hearing people complain that there’s still no sign of any improvement.”

Ohhh… a gap between the higher-ups’ intentions and the reality on the ground! Is this a case of the leadership setting overly idealistic goals that don’t fit the actual situation, or is something happening on the ground that’s blocking the improvements from taking hold…? It’s a bit concerning, honestly.

Visiting Ms. Aria’s family is important, but this job we took on was to "investigate the island." I guess before heading to Ms. Aria’s place, we should prioritize going to that town over the mountain first, to fulfill the request.

No way, surely, that the town over the mountain couldn’t possibly be the very same town where Ms. Aria’s family lives, right…? No, seriously, that wouldn’t happen, right? Right?

“Thanks for the advice! We’ll be careful!”

“You bet! Enjoy your sightseeing on the island! I’ll be waiting for you on the way back too!”

To us, who never really had the option of "not going" in the first place, Mr. Captain gives a bright, beaming smile and a light wave before heading back to the ship. Watching his retreating back with a dry, forced smile plastered on my face, my chest fills with an unnameable unease.

“…By the way, Rin.”

“What is it, Mr. Ville…?”

“That family home of Aria’s we’re headed to—it’s exactly that ‘town over the mountain.’”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!?”

Beside me, rooted to the spot as if I’d sprouted roots, Mr. Ville, still holding the fish, mutters this quietly.

Nghaaaaaaaaah! To think that hunch would hit the mark this precisely…! But thinking about it another way, isn’t this killing two birds with one stone? Or, well, maybe that’s not quite the right expression. Still, it feels like something is practically steering us toward that place, telling us, “Go there…”

I manage to lift my head, which had nearly slumped down. Hanging my head here isn’t going to change what needs doing. If anything, with things this conveniently set up, there’s nothing left but to go for it!

Just as I’m thinking of slapping my own cheeks to psych myself up, a voice calls out from across the pier.

“Rin! We found a grilled shellfish stand!”

“Hurry over! Xenon is in line right now! Let’s eat them fresh off the grill!”

Across the pier, Mr. Ed and Ms. Aria wave big with beaming smiles. Hungry, they’d gone ahead to secure lunch and found today’s target. Watching everyone’s cheerful faces, the head full of Mr. Captain’s information finally seems to shift gears. The moment it does, my brain catches the savory scent tickling my nose, and my stomach lets out a mighty growl. At the same time, I finally notice the various food stalls set up behind Ms. Aria and Mr. Ed.

Mr. Xenon steps out of one of the stalls too, holding a wrapped bundle… raising his purchase up high, waving us over. Ah, I see. Stalls like these must be what keeps the harbor workers fed. Makes sense, makes sense.

“All right. Let’s go, Rin.”

“Yes! Let’s get there before it’s all gone!”

‘Me too! Coming too!’

Following Mr. Ville, who pats my back before walking off, Gomamiso and I dash quickly along the pier. As we get closer, the array of delicious smells assaulting my nose leaves my already-broken-open stomach with no chance at holding back. Pressing a hand to my constantly growling stomach, I look around both sides of the road—grilled shellfish, skewered fish, seafood soup… and even steamed Muche, the same dish they served on the ship.

Maybe the workers here buy this stuff to bring home after their shift? There’s even a shop selling whole fresh fish and something like overnight-dried fish. Every single fish lined up has clear, pitch-black eyes, and firm, springy fins—obviously fresh at a glance.

Buying up food from various stalls that catch my eye, we settle down at a free dining area in a corner of the harbor. Along with the still-steaming food, we decide to eat the souvenirs we got from the ship here too.

“Whoa, so good! The broth’s incredible!”

“The salt-grilled fish is nice and flaky too. I could get addicted to this.”

Palm-sized bivalves with distinctive adductor muscles, long slender fish skewered in undulating patterns. As expected of a place surrounded by sea on all sides—the ingredients are nothing but fresh. Everything tastes irresistibly delicious.

…By the way, while eating, I tried listening in on the conversations around us… but couldn’t catch any rumors about the town where Ms. Aria’s family lives. Well, I guess we can’t expect everything to fall into place that easily. Too bad!

Even without gathering any gossip, we thoroughly enjoyed the sea’s bounty and got a good rest in… Then, once the sun started to lean toward evening, we decided to leave the harbor.

According to the navigation system, it should take about two and a half hours to reach our destination, Ms. Aria’s family home, even with a break along the way. It might take longer depending on the road conditions, but I think we should still arrive before early evening.

Still, looking at the map, Aios Island has surprisingly little flat land. It feels like towns have been carved into the foot of the mountains wherever people could manage to settle, stretching right up to the water’s edge.

“Come to think of it, is it really okay to visit now? Wouldn’t it be better to rest near the harbor tonight and visit tomorrow morning instead…?”

“Nn-nn. Actually, during work… at night, is better. In the morning Mom is sleeping… so, no good.”

“I see. There’s a difference in daily rhythm.”

Feeling a bit uneasy about the idea of visiting at night, I bring this up, only to have Ms. Aria, sitting in the passenger seat, casually shoot the idea down. Thinking about it, if she works at a tavern, visiting early in the day would probably just be an inconvenience instead.

Chatting with Ms. Aria as we drive, the lingering glow of the setting sun dyes the highway red. Despite the island’s developed sea routes, the roads here are reasonably wide and fairly well-maintained. And with the sun starting to set, there are fewer people and carriages around, making for very easy driving. It’s nice that traveling in the Camping Car is so stress-free.

It’s not quite dark enough to turn on the lights yet, but veil after veil of twilight descends from the sky, and the world gradually grows darker.

“Ohh… this really feels like a proper journey!”

As we head from the harbor town gradually up into the mountains, the once-open view narrows steadily, trees crowding in thick from both sides. Watching the scenery change rapidly is one of the great pleasures of traveling, isn’t it? And driving in the evening or at night just gets you weirdly excited, doesn’t it? Maybe because the scenery looks different from daytime? Or maybe because there’s less traffic than during the day, giving that feeling of having the whole road to yourself?

Well, either way, safe driving remains the top priority whether it’s day or night!

…Or so I’m thinking. Just as I refocus my attention, a red dot appears on the navigation screen. It’s a little way ahead in our direction of travel. Is this… a hostile reaction!?

“Something’s giving off hostile signs, so I’m stopping!!!”

Thanks to the navigation system catching the enemy’s appearance early, and there being plenty of distance to the spot where it appeared, I manage to stop without slamming the brakes. The red dot’s movement isn’t getting more erratic either, so it doesn’t seem to have noticed us. The navigation system is seriously awesome!

“…! I’ll go take a look!”

The moment Ms. Aria unbuckles her seatbelt and darts out, the men in the cabin snap into combat readiness in an instant, standing by near the entrance. Being able to respond this quickly to an emergency situation like this—impressive, honestly.

Gomamiso, meanwhile, leaps into the now-empty passenger seat the moment Ms. Aria’s gone, propping its front paws on the dashboard, leaning forward to keep watch on the surroundings. The cat’s probably doing it unconsciously, but the wind from its vigorously swishing tail is absolutely ridiculous.

“Island Boars! Seems like… they’re moving in a pack.”

Almost the same moment Ms. Aria’s voice comes through from the open passenger door, a muffled snorting sound starts up from further down the road. Before long, several pairs of gleaming eyes and the thundering sound of feet pounding the ground draw closer. Emerging from the dim twilight is a pack of four wild boars. Brown, stocky, each one sporting impressively large tusks for their size.

[Island Boar (edible: delicious)

Believed to be a Wild Boar variant adapted to island environmental conditions, a somewhat smaller boar-type monster.

Quick to anger, and when enraged, it charges at its target while cloaked in magical power. The force of this charge is enough to fell large trees and shatter house walls in a single hit. However, due to its habit of charging in a straight line, it’s easy to dodge.

Although small, it has rich, flavorful meat combined with pleasantly sweet, refreshing fat, making it suitable for any kind of seasoning. Because it contains parasites, it must be thoroughly cooked all the way through, but its meat has the advantage of not becoming tough even when fully cooked.]

Ohh! Meat that Survival itself vouches for as delicious, coming at us in a whole group!?

I nod at Mr. Ville when he glances my way, and he seems to understand what I mean. As expected of the Glutton Alliance.

“Looks like some delicious meat has come to us all by itself. Let’s hunt it down as a souvenir!”

At Mr. Ville’s battle cry, everyone charges at the Island Boars all at once.

Unlike the Gourmands, fully prepared for battle, the boar pack, caught in a surprise ambush, is thrown into confused disarray. They squeal out something between screams and roars, swinging their tusks around, but such crude attacks have no chance of landing on anyone…

One gets tangled up in Ms. Aria’s threads, one cut clean in two by Mr. Ville, one set ablaze by Mr. Ed, and one put to sleep by Mr. Xenon… In the faint reddish twilight, the boar pack transforms into delicious-looking meat in the blink of an eye. It feels like the whole thing takes no more than two or three blinks. In fact, it ends so quickly that I don’t even hear any death throes.

Watching such an anticlimactic battle, I can feel the tension drain right out of my shoulders. Not that I doubt everyone’s strength, mind you, but there’s still some part of me that can’t quite relax watching it happen. About all I could do was hold back Gomamiso, who kept fussing, "Wanna go swish-swish too!”

“Rin, Rin! We got so much meat!”

While I absently stroke Gomamiso’s back, still feeling a bit unsettled, everyone returns to the Camping Car carrying packages wrapped in wood shavings, led by Ms. Aria with a beaming smile. Packages of various sizes are piled onto the cabin table with a series of heavy thuds.

“Ohhh! What a splendid haul! Spare ribs, loin, thigh, belly… even shank meat! With this much variety of cuts, the range of dishes I can make just opened right up!”

“Hehehe! Got a great souvenir for Mom and Dad!”

“Aria worked super hard, after all! But hey, the regulars are probably at the tavern too, so wouldn’t it be nice to have a little more as a gift to share with them?”

“I understand the sentiment, but we can’t exactly go around wishing for monsters to appear, can we?”

The mountain of meat piled up is indeed all delicious-looking stuff, no question. No wonder Survival’s given it its full stamp of approval. I completely understand why Ms. Aria’s puffing out her chest with that proud, smug look.

Especially those spare ribs, with the deep red meat and pure white fat layered together—there’s just no future where cooking that doesn’t turn out delicious! The loin, with its vivid, chewy red meat, thick-sliced into what you’d call "boar steaks" instead of pork steaks, and the shank meat, marinated for two or three days then slowly simmered into something like an Eisbein-style dish—wouldn’t that be lovely too?

“Indeed. If Ms. Aria’s parents work at a tavern, wouldn’t seasoning it as a good drinking snack make for a well-received gift?”

“Mm! I think they’d… be really happy!”

“What’s that? Sounds amazing! Great as a gift, sure, but we want to eat it too!!!”

“…I take back what I said. If that’s the plan, having another five or six would have been nice.”

“As it gets darker, isn’t there a good chance we’ll run into more Island Boars or other monsters?”

Ticking off menu ideas that just occurred to me, the already-excited audience erupt into even more fervor. Even Mr. Xenon, who’d just been offering calm, measured opinions a moment ago, apparently couldn’t resist the instinct of appetite either.

‘Nfu! From here on out, it’s the time for beings like me, who rule the night!’

“Miso, you’re not exactly one who ‘rules the night’—more like one who’s also asleep by then.”

Releasing the cat, whose self-image remains as inflated as ever, I grip the steering wheel once more.

“All right, off we go again, toward Ms. Aria’s family home!”

“Mm!”

With Ms. Aria, having eagerly hopped back into the passenger seat, pumping her fist beside me, the night drive resumes.

As the night deepens, the frequency of running into Island Boar packs steadily increases. They are nocturnal creatures, I guess. Thankfully, not too many of them ventured onto the main road, but let’s just say we ended up with quite a substantial haul of meat.

On top of that, while dealing with the Island Boars, we also have to tackle a fairly brutal mountain route. Rattling along the increasingly poorly paved road, climbing a gentle but steady mountain path, then descending a winding, curve-heavy pass road… After traveling roads like these for a while, it’s easy to understand why sea travel becomes so popular around here.

Rocked around quite a bit, but at least nobody got carsick, which is a small mercy amid all the chaos. Regularly stepping out of the car to fight off Island Boars might’ve actually helped prevent motion sickness too, in a way.

Once the pressing slopes on both sides finally started to ease up, the view ahead began opening up. The scenery outside the window, shifting so dramatically the whole way, would’ve probably made for an even better view if it weren’t nighttime.

“We really did cross two whole mountains! Traveling this on foot must be seriously tough, right?”

“Mm. Going to other towns… depends on the tide’s mood, but… most of the time it’s quicker to follow the coastline by boat than to go over the mountains.”

“Makes sense. Now I understand why the land routes aren’t very popular, even though they’ve been developed.”

Driving through the mountain road, I’ve come to realize this island’s basically built its towns onto whatever thin strip of land squeezed between the mountains and the sea. Not just the foot of the mountains, either—it looks like they’ve carved out even some decent slopes to put up buildings and fields.

They did mention magic crystal ore’s mined here too, so there’s probably mining facilities and routes carved deep into the mountains for transporting materials and ore as well.

Mulling that over while gripping the wheel, as we descend the mountain road, flickers of red and orange light start coming into view down below. That’s our destination this time—Ms. Aria’s hometown. The lights spread out to a certain point before cutting off sharply, swallowed by pitch-black darkness—meaning that’s where the sea begins!

“By the way, where’s your house located, Ms. Aria?”

“Over there… harbor side of the town. Along the main street… so it’s easy to find.”

Ms. Aria points toward the boundary between the black sea and the land. Looks like a fairly densely lit area. Guess Ms. Aria grew up in quite a lively spot.

“I see. Though, we can’t exactly go driving the Camping Car right through the middle of town, so once we’re a bit closer, let’s park somewhere out of sight like usual and walk the rest of the way.”

“With the souvenirs?”

“Of course.”

While exchanging words with Ms. Aria in the passenger seat, the slope gradually levels out, the town’s lights drawing steadily closer. Opening the window, a gust of salt-laden wind pours into the cabin. Hmm. Just like Ellarge, this town’s got that unmistakable feel of the sea too!

Since the stealth effect should keep us safe, but just in case, I stop the car down at the base of the slope leading into town, out of sight of the headlights… and from here, we all walk the rest of the way into town on foot.

In contrast to everyone else gearing up their equipment in case of a surprise attack, I’m the one shouldering the backpack and holding the cloth-wrapped bundle, doing the luggage-carrying duty as usual. By the way, the backpack’s got the Island Boar meat we just caught, and the cloth bundle’s got the rest of the giant fish we caught on the ship. I’m still the baggage carrier, but this time it’s very much souvenir-focused.

It feels like it’s gotten pretty late, but according to Ms. Aria, "at this hour, we should still make it into town with plenty of time to spare." If a local’s saying so, it’s probably fine! …It’s fine, right? Tell me it’s fine!

Let’s cut straight to the result: we made it into town just barely in time.

…Barely in time, but still!

“Ooooh? You came all the way from the mainland to a little island like this?”

“Must be nice, having such a fine, easy life.”

What is with these gatekeepers!!! They’ve been dropping snide comment after snide comment this whole time, seriously off-putting!? Yet when it comes to actually doing their jobs—checking Gomamiso’s familiar registration or inspecting my luggage—they can barely be bothered! Wow, they’re really putting their all into those sarcastic remarks, huh?

I mean, gatekeepers are supposed to be the first line of a town’s defenses, the very first faces travelers see representing this town, aren’t they!? What’s with the sloppily worn-out gear, the unshaven scruff—a little too slack, don’t you think!? Take a page from Ellarge’s gatekeepers, who look sharp with no room for weakness while still radiating warmth and human kindness!

And what’s more… what’s more!!!

“Oh, wait a sec! Bringing a familiar into town’s gonna cost extra.”

Huh? These guys… running out of insults, they’ve now resorted to demanding bribes!

“Um, extra fee for what, exactly…?”

“Ah, my apologies. There wasn’t one the last time we visited.”

“Heh… let’s stay calm for now, Rin.”

The ones holding back my flare of temper are Mr. Ville, wearing an almost completely blank expression, and Mr. Xenon, wearing what could only be called an extremely serene smile. At a glance, both of them look perfectly composed… but I can tell—no, we can all tell—both of them are quietly, absolutely furious.

The gatekeepers don’t even notice Mr. Ville’s look that clearly says, “I’ve memorized your face,” after he slips them several silver coins, nor the murderous aura radiating from Ms. Aria that could freeze the air. At this point, I almost feel sorry for them.

Are gatekeepers like this really okay to have here!?

“Wha—wha—what was THAT about!!!”

Past mere dislike, this gatekeepers have climbed instantly to number two on my personal hate ranking for the season, and once they have been finally out of sight, my emotions finally erupt. If I’d had a handkerchief, I probably would’ve bitten down and shredded it. For the record, number one for this season remains unshaken—that would be that prince and his companions. Honestly, they’ve basically earned a permanent spot in the hall of fame at this point.

“…We came here about three years ago, right? It didn’t feel like this back then…”

“Mm! Before, it was, way… way more proper!”

“They certainly didn’t look this sloppy either.”

But in contrast to me, practically boiling over with anger, everyone else stays remarkably composed. Almost like they have expected this to happen, from the way they’re talking?

Being around such composed party members, maybe some of that calm rubbed off on me. The heat that had rushed to my head gradually settles down.

‘Hah? What’s wrong with them? They were not petting me, this cute angel? Me! An angel, I said!’

“No, that’s not really the issue here.”

Gomamiso is also fuming at my feet, letting out an angry “Grrrr!” …but its anger is aimed in a slightly different direction.

“…With gatekeepers in that state, it makes me worried about the town’s security.”

“Yes. They’re supposed to be the front line of defense, practically the town’s last bastion, right? So what was that supposed to be?!”

At Mr. Ville’s mutter, tinged with something almost like a growl himself, my own anger climbs even higher.

Gatekeepers who’re supposed to keep bad actors out of town and serve as the anchor of defense in an emergency, yet those people are holding the position! I’m still worked up with fresh anger, but Mr. Ville, calm despite his own irritation, pats my back to soothe me.

“Well, as you say, there’s the aspect of being the last line of defense in an emergency, but… this island’s security force falls directly under the town administrator. If those below are like that, it means…”

“So either they followed the example set by those above them, or they decided to go along with whoever holds the power……is that what you mean?”

“Yeah. Most of the security force personnel are actually island residents themselves, after all…”

Mr. Ville leaves it a bit vague, but I get the gist of what he means. If there’s some troublesome power-holder above, there are countless ways to buy off those below—money, position, family safety, take your pick. …Still, that doesn’t excuse how those two behaved.

Wait, hold on, the security force falls under the town administrator? Not directly under the feudal lord!? It’s supposed to be a core of the town’s defense, so I have assumed it is either an independent organization free from outside influence or directly under the island’s highest authority, the lord…

“…Ah, right. Come to think of it, Rin, you don’t actually know this country’s organizational structure at all.”

“Organizational… structure…?”

Seeing me tilt my head in confusion, Mr. Ville, apparently having grasped the full picture, claps his hands together as if it all makes sense now.

I mean, I do understand what "organizational structure" means as a phrase, sure? It’s just that, since most of my connections have been through the adventurer-guild network so far, I never had much interaction with any other institutions, though I’ve vaguely sensed there must be administrative and legal bodies out there too, probably.

But when it comes to how it’s all actually structured, I have absolutely no clue! I mean, I’m an outsider to this world, no matter how you slice it! I think I’ve settled in pretty well by now, but the basic knowledge of this world still eludes me a lot!

Plus, even though things started off pretty rough, everyone I’ve met in this world’s been kind, and life’s been mostly peaceful overall, so there was never really a need to rely on other institutions, or anything like that…

“This country… Riessfeld, ruled by my older brother—you remember that much, right?”

At the words coming from Mr. Ville, finger raised, I nod with a broad grin.

“Yes! That’s Mr. Noah, right? Have you two been in touch since then?”

“…Let’s set that aside for now. Please leave it be.”

Mr. Noah… Mr. Ville’s half-brother, reincarnated from Japan, and also part of the development team behind the very game "The Wild Rose Maiden" that this whole world’s based on—quite the attribute-heavy king of Riessfeld, honestly. His relationship with Mr. Ville is… well, Mr. Noah clearly dotes on him, but Mr. Ville, who ran away from home once out of fear of family strife, seems to be the one unilaterally avoiding him.

That said, I figured maybe some of the tension had eased a bit after our last visit to the capital, so I asked… but from how blatantly he looked away, I guess things haven’t really progressed much after all.

“Ahem! Anyway, never mind. I’ll continue.”

“Okay! Please do!”

At Mr. Ville’s obvious little cough, I decide to let him get away with the topic change. Raising my hand energetically, I get myself ready to listen.

Looking noticeably relieved, Mr. Ville lays out the organizational chart for me, which turns out to be pretty complex, honestly. Directly under the king—meaning Mr. Noah—there’s an overall coordinator role called "Crown Aider," and beneath that, various positions branch off further. By the way, the word "Crown" used here apparently carries a meaning something like "directly under the king’s authority" or "directly serving the king." So a Crown Aider is roughly equivalent to “the king’s trusted right-hand man,” or something along those lines.

Basically, I guess any position with "Crown" attached to the title can be understood as "someone directly entrusted with work by Mr. Noah himself.”

“With that in mind… here’s the thing. This island’s lord holds the title of ‘Crown Chatelain.’”

“Having ‘Crown’ attached means he’s directly under Mr. Noah’s authority!?”

“Yeah. Taking into account the island’s historical background, geographical factors, and various other circumstances, the king personally selects and dispatches the personnel.”

“If Mr. Noah personally selects them, that means whoever gets appointed lord must be extremely capable, right?”

“Yes. My brother’s eye for people is reliable. So even with this latest change of lord, someone capable should have been sent here…”

Mulling over what Mr. Ville just explained, I nod lightly to myself. So basically, the lord is Mr. Noah’s own direct subordinate, and it’s that subordinate’s people who govern the island.

…Hm? But wait, isn’t that strange?

“If the lord’s so competent, how are gatekeepers like that running wild!?”

“…That’s exactly the tricky part about this island. Like I said earlier, this island’s organizational structure is unusual compared to elsewhere.”

Going by Mr. Ville’s explanation, given with a furrowed brow at my sudden outburst, the structure apparently goes: the island’s lord—Crown Chatelain—sits above town administrators who each govern individual towns. In practice, it’s really the town administrators who handle each town’s administration, judiciary, and public order maintenance functions.

By the way, of these positions, only the lord is dispatched from the central government. The town administrator role, on the other hand, is filled by officials who hail from the island itself. In short, the top is someone sent from the central government, but the actual day-to-day operations below are handled by locals.

“This island’s had its own distinct faith and culture, separate from the mainland, since ancient times. To help the island’s own culture and central governance blend together, I remember being taught this is the kind of organizational structure that came about.”

“Ohh! That’s impressive, Mr. Ville! You really know your stuff.”

“I was taught quite a lot back in the day. This is just a remnant of that.”

“Ville, you know so much… So… it had that kind of history…”

“Isn’t this the sort of knowledge you ought to have, Aria?”

The local, who’d seem to know this island best, widens her eyes in genuine surprise, which draws an exasperated sigh out of Mr. Xenon. Mr. Ed, meanwhile, just keeps beaming, saying "Even that side of Aria is cute too!" Yup. As expected of the wife-affirms-everything husband.

…Still, this is a way more convoluted system than I’d expected. But honestly, if the structure’s set up like this, it does seem like there’d be plenty of room for someone to work corruption into the gaps if they wanted to.

‘This royal me don’t really get all that stuff about the lower people!’

“…Were you trying to say ‘commoners’? Just how high and mighty do you think you are?”

For a moment, I thought Gomamiso had suddenly become a nouveau riche or something, and it freaked me out!

Responding to Gomamiso’s demand for a pick-up from my shoulder, I hold it, and it starts purring away. Yup. The cat’s in an excellent mood, clearly. Stroking its fluffy back somehow soothes my frayed nerves… At this point, I think I’ll just ignore its tendency to look down on everyone from the heavens above, okay!

“Oh. We arrived while we were talking.”

“Whoa! This really does look like a tavern street!”

Ms. Aria’s easygoing voice pulls my attention back from where it was, mulling over this and that. Seems like we’ve covered quite a bit of distance while I was getting jostled around on this emotional rollercoaster.

Looking up at Ms. Aria’s voice, the number of people passing through the street’s grown considerably. Energetic touts calling out, cheerful-looking old guys with liquor bottles walking arm in arm, women in sexy outfits seeing off customers at a shop’s entrance… a scene that’s like a "fantasy tavern district" and a "modern Japanese entertainment district" split down the middle and mixed together.

From that lively main street, Ms. Aria suddenly turns down a side alley. This one feels less lively, more like it carries the air of a residential area compared to the main street’s bustle. I suppose you could call it a downtown drinking district? Small establishments that seem to cater mainly to local regulars line the street.

As Ms. Aria walks on without a hint of hesitation, the sound of the sea grows steadily louder. Gomamiso, apparently bothered by its fur getting sticky from the damp, salty wind, keeps licking its front paws with a look on its face like "salty!"—both cute and kind of funny. I couldn’t help but laugh, sorry, little guy.

…Still, though… everyone out walking these streets looks bright and cheerful. Even though it’s a back alley, the streetlights are well-maintained—so well, in fact, that not a single one is flickering or out.

“…Somehow, this part of the town doesn’t seem to have changed much.”

“I’d expected quite a few people making a living from magic crystal ore mining even in this town, but it doesn’t feel all that troubled.”

Probably keeping their voices down so no one else hears, Mr. Ville and Mr. Xenon’s quiet conversation reaches my ears. Yup, yup. I guess we are thinking the same thing. Because Ms. Aria’s hometown really is bustling with health and vitality, way more than I expected!

I’d heard that top-down communication wasn’t going well, so I figured there must be a big disconnect between the management and reality on the ground, leading to a lot of frustration.

Puzzling over that while passing a few more shops, by the time the sound and salt of the sea have grown considerably louder, Ms. Aria stops in front of a certain shop. In place of a door, it’s got a curtain made of small, colorful conch shells strung together. With no actual door, the lively voices typical of a tavern spill right out into the street.

The place has the unmistakable air of "regulars only, thank you very much." If I were here as a tourist, honestly, I don’t think I’d have the courage to walk into a place like this.

“I’m home…”

Leaving my inner turmoil aside, Ms. Aria slips through the shell-bead curtain without a moment’s hesitation. Mr. Ed follows right after, and Mr. Xenon too gets absorbed into the shop with perfect ease. Wait, whaaat!? Are you all really the type to walk into places like this!? Well, Ms. Aria obviously can since this is her family’s place, but I suppose it makes sense for the others too, considering how effortlessly sociable they are!

What pushes my back—torn between the urge not to fall behind everyone else and the nagging feeling that I still need a moment to mentally prepare—is our reliable leader.

“Let’s go, Rin. You’re going to hand over the souvenirs too, right?”

“…Yessir! Nothing’s going to start unless we go in!”

Honestly, I’ll admit I’m still a little nervous, but this isn’t really the time to say so. Pushed along by Mr. Ville, I step into the shop too, and…

“Ohh! So this is Ari’s crew!”

“Mama! Ari’s here!”

“Huh? Ed-boy’s not with you today?”

“Ohh my, my, isn’t that Xenon! Over here! Sit over here!”

“Kyaa! It’s the leader boy! Looking good again today! There’s a spot free right here!”

“Hey, make some room over there! It’s better if they all sit together!”

What awaited us wasn’t silence at all, but a chorus of cheers.

Wh-Whoaaa? I’d fully braced myself for a wall of "who’re you?" silence and stares… so this is a very welcome surprise! Voices call out from all around, from customers who are pleasantly, moderately drunk. Wait, does Ms. Aria go by "Ari" among the regulars here!? Isn’t that just a little too adorable? And not just Ms. Aria, either—somehow even Mr. Ville and the rest are getting a huge welcome too! Everyone’s clearly way more recognized by the locals than I’d expected.

Beckoned along by the earlier customers, even bewildered me gets swept along and guided to what’s probably the best seat in the shop. The moment we settle in, drinks and what look like snack plates materialize out of nowhere, and we get pulled straight into the circle of conversation… The sheer efficiency of it all leaves me utterly baffled!

Should we just go with the flow here, or pause for a moment… just as we’re all exchanging glances, wondering that.

“…Wait, is ‘Mama’ your mother, Ms. Aria?”

“Mm, that’s Mama. She runs the place… and she also does fortune-telling… sort of.”

“Oh… Aria. You’ve finally come home?”

Along with a crisp, dignified voice, a woman veiled in deep night-colored gauze glides serenely toward us. As the veil slowly lifts, what emerges are ice-colored eyes strikingly similar to Ms. Aria’s. Come to think of it, this woman’s voice, though lower than Ms. Aria’s, sounds remarkably alike.

“It’s not ‘finally’. I sent letters… and gifts too.”

“That’s not nearly enough, I’m saying. Not showing your face for so long…”

The woman presses both hands to Ms. Aria’s cheeks, still mid-protest, squishing and un-squishing them, playing with the texture like she’s savoring it. Ms. Aria, for her part, desperately tries to peel the hands off, but she seems to be losing the strength contest.

I kind of already guessed it, but this person Ms. Aria’s losing a strength contest against… could this be…!?

“Ugh, geez! Stop it, Mama!”

Finally managing to remove the woman’s hands, Ms. Aria puffs out her freed cheeks in protest.

I knew it! It really was Ms. Aria’s mom!

Right in front of Ms. Aria, now on guard against any further cheek-pinching, her mom puffs out her chest with a satisfied "hmph." As the veil slips smoothly aside, a deep indigo robe trimmed in gold thread comes into view underneath. From the waist down through the hem, it’s decorated with shimmering beads and embroidery, like a starlit night sky brought straight down to earth. Such a mystical presence—she looks exactly like what I’d imagine a “fortune-teller” to look like!

The illustration’s description: Aria looks at her mother with puffed-out cheeks.

“Well then. I suppose I’ll leave it at that for today. You’re with your companions, after all.”

“If you know that, then stop already…!”

In contrast to her mother’s satisfied expression, Ms. Aria, still sulking, seems noticeably more childlike than usual. …Well, I guess being around a parent naturally brings out the child in anyone, deep down. Still, seeing Ms. Aria’s mom and her side by side, they feel less like mother and daughter and more like sisters!

Mr. Xenon’s mother, Ms. Lusha, whom I met before, looked quite young as well, but Ms. Aria’s mom looks remarkably young too. Though maybe due to her profession as a fortune teller, her whole demeanor carries a much more relaxed, unhurried air, less lively than Ms. Lusha’s. If Ms. Lusha’s like an energetic young wife, Ms. Aria’s mom feels more like an elegant young madame, I’d say.

Still, both mothers clearly dote on their children endlessly—that much they have in common. So I sit there quietly, secretly delighted, watching this little mother-daughter exchange play out.

Pressing both hands to her still-tender cheeks, Ms. Aria glances around the shop.

“…Come to think of it… Papa’s not here… I don’t hear singing…”

“Oh. His favorite lute, the one he always uses, suddenly broke. He’s off getting it repaired today.”

“Ahh… that’s quite the loss…”

Now that she mentions it, the shop’s certainly lively, but the source of most of the sound is people talking. No background music of any kind can be heard at all.

Judging from the mother-daughter exchange, Ms. Aria’s father must be the one in charge of all the music here. If the guy handling the sound’s out for the day, of course the shop’s atmosphere would feel different.

While I nod along, quietly satisfied with putting that together myself, the robed beauty gracefully bows at the waist.

“Thank you so much for coming all this way from so far off. You must be tired, right? And on top of that, I’m sorry for showing you a little family squabble.”

“Hey, Mama!”

“Let me introduce myself properly. I’m Aria’s mother, Layla.”

Ms. Aria’s mom—Ms. Layla—smiling warmly, settles down beside Ms. Aria as smoothly as flowing water. Given the limited space, we’d all been packed in shoulder to shoulder, but somehow her joining in doesn’t feel forced at all. It’s more like… before I even noticed, there was just one more person there. Eh, wait, how does that even work!?

Maybe that’s some kind of fortune-teller-specific skill too!?

Waving off Ms. Aria’s protest without a care, Ms. Layla fully removes her veil, revealing a warm smile. Her hair, spilling loose, isn’t quite the silvery shine of Ms. Aria’s, more a platinum-white gleam. But the sleek, silky texture of the hair is identical to Ms. Aria’s.

“…Rin. We don’t have to give Mama the meat… Let’s eat it ourselves, okay?”

“My, my. You’ve grown up enough to think about bringing souvenirs now.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. This is meat everyone worked together to hunt down, after all.”

“It’s meat we all hunted together… so let’s just eat it ourselves?”

In contrast to Ms. Layla’s cheerful mood, Ms. Aria seems to have completely dug in her heels now. She apparently sends letters updating her mother about her life and regularly mails souvenirs, so they’re probably quite close—but right now she’s clearly upset about being teased in front of everyone. Her cheeks are puffed out to the fullest as she stares not at me… but at the luggage I’m holding.

“But you worked the hardest of all of us, Ms. Aria. Wouldn’t it be a shame not to hand it over after all that?”

“…No…”

I try to salvage Ms. Aria’s thoroughly sulky mood, but her puffed-out cheeks show no sign of deflating. Ms. Aria’s being stubborn, honestly!

“That’s right, Aria. You were so fired up about giving it to Ms. Layla.”

“Eddy!”

“Ehh!? Wait, could that be… Little Ed!?”

Probably taking pity on me, Mr. Ed comes to my rescue—but it seems he’s ended up stepping on the landmine of his grumpy wife instead.

The moment Ms. Aria’s voice rises in protest, Ms. Layla’s voice rings out, sounding genuinely shocked. Blinking her narrow, elegant eyes, hand pressed to her mouth, the surrounding customers’ conversations suddenly halt. Turning our way to see what’s going on, the customers’ flushed faces and mouths snap wide open in an instant.

“Y-You… Ed-boy, is that you!? What happened? You cleaned yourself up so much!”

“You look nothing like when you came to report your marriage to Ari!”

“Huh!? That’s what your face actually looks like!?”

…Uh oh? Something’s clearly stirring up quite the uproar here? Wait, does that mean Mr. Ed didn’t always look like this?

While I’m still lost, glancing around, unable to piece the situation together, Mr. Ville leans in and whispers quietly in my ear:

“Old Ed was… how should I put it… his personality hasn’t changed from back then, but appearance-wise, he was scruffy, unkempt… more like a bagworm, or something along those lines…”

“…That Mr. Ed was… a bagworm…”

“His bangs used to hang down past his nose, and he’d just tie back his unkempt, shaggy long hair without any real care.”

“Frankly speaking, he looked genuinely unpleasant.”

Mr. Xenon cuts straight through Mr. Ville’s more carefully chosen words without hesitation.

To think Mr. Ed, who looks slick and slightly flashy in both appearance and speech now, used to be some kind of bangs-hidden bagworm type guy…! Genuinely hard to picture from how he looks now. Sure, there’s a bit of a natural wave to his hair, but it’s properly styled these days.

By the way, as for the man himself, called out on his former appearance, he shows no sign of agonizing over his own dark history, just grinning and saying "I wanted to become a proper man worthy of standing next to Aria.”

Hmm, that’s some strong resolve.

“By the way, Ari, what kinda souvenirs did ya bring?”

“…Various cuts of… Island Boar meat.”

“Ohhhh! Now that’s a good one! Those things are delicious this time of year!”

At the cheerful old man’s question, mug in hand, Ms. Aria falls briefly silent… then mutters quietly, in a small voice. Maybe drawn back into her stride by the man’s immediate hearty laugh, Ms. Aria puffs out her chest with a note of pride creeping into her voice.

“Spare ribs, loin, and… lots of other cuts. We hunted a lot.”

“OHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her report of the hunting haul earns back a roar so loud it feels like the whole building shakes for a second.

Everyone’s drunk, and their spirits are through the roof! But no one’s picking fights or turning violent. This feels like the good, cheerful kind of drunk.

“Island Boar’s delicious no matter how you cook it!”

As the customers grow more excited, they start calling out the names of their favorite boar dishes one after another.

A bearded old man declares, "I love a loin steak," while the guy at the next table over teases back, "Don’t be dumb, grilled ribs are the only right answer." At that, the serving lady breaks into a grin, saying "Simmering the front legs first, then roasting them in the oven, is the absolute best," while another woman, apparently recalling the taste, presses a hand to her cheek and says "I love a good stewed salted belly." Everyone here seems to have strong opinions on boar cuisine, and the atmosphere in the tavern only gets more heated.

I totally understand how they feel. Tender loin made into a steak with a crisp outside and juicy interior has to be delicious, while spare ribs grilled until just enough of the fat renders out should be surprisingly easy to eat without becoming too rich. If you stew boar’s feet and then roast them, the skin becomes wonderfully tender, with a savory char added to it—I could probably eat several. And as for stewed salted belly, there’s really nothing more to say…! The fat turns meltingly soft, the meat stays succulent, and above all, the broth itself becomes a feast, packed with all the flavor that has seeped out during the cooking!

“Hey, Ari! If you’re not making it as a souvenir for Mama, cook it up for us instead!”

“Wait, idiot! Cut it out! Ari’s… you’ll cause Ari trouble!”

“Come on, it’ll be fine! Bring the portable stove over here and cook it live for us!”

“That sounds great! That way everyone can get something to eat! Come on, Ari, what do you say?”

“Are you idiots crazy!? Are you trying to kill us all!?”

Maybe carried away by the rising energy, one of the drunk customers raises his voice. The moment he does, about half the crowd’s faces instantly go rigid with tension. Looking around, most of the ones tensing up seem to be the older folks. …Maybe these people have actually eaten Ms. Aria’s cooking before at some point in the past? Maybe they got roped into taste-testing her cooking practice as a kid.

The ones egging her on for food, meanwhile, seem to be relatively younger, so they probably don’t know Ms. Aria’s actual skill level.

And in stark contrast to the growing chorus of demands, Ms. Aria’s face just keeps growing paler, white as paper. Yup, well, that’s understandable, honestly. She’s started helping me out a lot lately, sure, but Ms. Aria’s actual cooking skill itself… Yup… probably hasn’t improved all that much. Even when she helps me, I mostly have her cut ingredients or carry finished dishes; I’m still the one doing most of the actual cooking.

Come to think of it, maybe I’m partly to blame for never letting her handle the actual cooking…?

“Ms. Aria, Ms. Aria. If there’s a place to cook, I’m happy to make something.”

“Eh… really, Rin?”

“As long as the regulars here are fine with it, that is.”

“It’s okay! Everyone will be… satisfied… as long as their stomachs are full…!”

The moment I quietly whisper the suggestion to Ms. Aria, her flower-like face blooms into a bright smile.

I mean, if we leave this be, it could spark a real conflict between the "want her to cook" faction and the "don’t want her to cook" faction. Can’t exactly be the cause of a bar brawl right after arriving! Plus, I couldn’t just stand by watching Ms. Aria struggle like this either.

The people who want Ms. Aria herself to cook may be disappointed, but since Ms. Aria is saying this, I’ll go ahead and step in this time!

“Oh? Does this mean we get to try the famous ‘Rin’s cooking’? I’ve heard about it in Aria’s letters. You’re quite a good cook, right?”

“Ah, you already knew about it!”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this hungry just from reading a letter before. Please use whatever ingredients and tools you like, and make us something, would you?”

I’d meant to quietly offer Ms. Aria a lifeline out of her clearly troubled state, but Ms. Layla seems to have caught every word. Ms. Layla’s watching me with a different kind of alluring smile than Ms. Aria’s, but a smile all the same.

“Ah, but would it be all right if I borrowed Ms. Aria to help me out?”

“Eh, Aria…!?”

Not wanting to work alone in an unfamiliar kitchen, I take Ms. Aria’s hand, and Ms. Layla looks at me like the world’s about to end.

“Hmph! I’ve been helping Rin lately…!”

“Eh… really? Is that actually all right?”

“Yes. She cuts ingredients, plates dishes; she’s a huge help!”

To reassure Ms. Layla, whose worry has reached its peak, I give a firm thumbs up, and she lets out a relieved sigh, looking at me… then turns to Ms. Aria with an exasperated expression.

“You’ve been proud of yourself over just that much? Even a child would help out more than that.”

“For me, that’s progress!”

“Oh, honestly! You always got some comeback ready for everything!”

“Ah, welllll… In any case, I’ll make something for everyone!”

Sensing this is about to turn into a full-fledged mother-daughter squabble, I hurriedly raise my voice. For a moment, the commotion falls completely silent, every eye in the room fixed on me. Feeling the mix of curiosity, expectation, and a hint of skepticism in everyone’s gazes, what I hold up in both hands is a thick cut of Island Boar belly and some lean, healthy thigh meat.

“I’m thinking of mincing this into meatballs for a soup to finish off your drinks—how does that sound?”

Deep red meat and pure white fat layered together, this fine belly cut is great simmered, grilled, or seared any way you like, but this time, I’m going to deliberately mince it up! Combined with the leaner thigh meat, it should keep the richness and umami while cutting back on heaviness, making it easier to eat!

After presenting the menu idea, there’s just a beat of silence…

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The whole shop erupts into a roaring, booming cheer. No, "erupts" doesn’t even cover it. The volume’s enough to make it feel like the building itself is shaking. And before I know it, tables and chairs get shoved aside by the eager drunk crowd, and out from the kitchen comes a portable cooking stove that looks just like a charcoal brazier, along with a knife and cutting board, setting up a cooking space in no time.

This whole sequence feels familiar… Wait, it’s exactly what happened at the party on the ship! It’s like Season Two of my traveling cooking show! Still, since I can’t use the Camping Car right now, I’ll gladly accept their thoughtful hospitality!

“Just meat won’t be enough, will it? If there are any ingredients you can use, go ahead and take them.”

“Wait, wait! In that case, I’ll bring over what’s left at our place too!”

“Then use our vegetables too!”

…And so, I gratefully accept using the huge basketful of vegetables Ms. Layla brings over too! Seeing that, what looks like neighbors bustle out and come rushing back with vegetables and whatnot in hand.

Whoa! This is a huge help! Among the vegetables handed over, there’s something called canary radish, yellow-colored but daikon-shaped, and snow-carrot, a pure white carrot-like thing. Judging by Survival, both seem to be pretty major staple ingredients in this world. Wishing greedily for something like burdock root as I sort through the basket, a plump, jet-black, tube-shaped object catches my eye.

“Sea… lotus? Ah! It’s lotus root!”

According to Survival, it’s a type of lotus that grows in sandy coastal areas where the waves are calm. Apparently, when sliced crosswise, it has holes of various sizes running through it.

“Oh… it must have gotten mixed in with the roots when we picked the flowers. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry…? Are you saying this isn’t something people eat?”

“That’s right. The flowers are used for decorations like this, but I’ve never heard of anyone doing anything with the roots…”

Where Ms. Layla points, apologetic, several large double-blossomed flowers are displayed, each shading beautifully from deep pink at the base through pale pink and into snow-white at the tips. Bigger than my palm and gorgeously showy, yet somehow carrying an air of pristine elegance too. A fresh, refreshing scent seems to reinforce that impression.

Sure enough, Survival does say "the flowers are large and fragrant, used for decoration," but from Ms. Layla’s tone, maybe the roots just never get used at all?

Listed as delicious, and yet never used?

…Hmm, well, the roots are jet-black and full of holes when you cut them open, so maybe locally they’re just not considered important. Maybe it’s not worth the trouble of digging them up just to eat them? But knowing it’s edible… and it’s even described as delicious, there’s no way I could pass this up!

“This seems edible too, so let me use it while I’ve got the chance!”

“Hey, hey! Are you seriously gonna eat that? That thing’s jet black, doesn’t look tasty at all.”

“Sea lotus is for looking at the flowers, isn’t it? Never heard of anyone eating the root.”

At my declaration, the surrounding regulars let out shocked cries. Hmm. I know the locals don’t eat it, but I never expected quite this reaction. Well, sure, it doesn’t exactly look appetizing. Jet black, covered in sand and mud…

But I’ve got a powerful ally on my side!

“Mr. Ville, Mr. Ville! Could you clean this with magic for me?”

“Well, sure, but… cooking for a crowd day after day, aren’t you getting tired, Rin?”

“Thanks for worrying. But this much is nothing to worry about!”

Mr. Ville, having quickly cast a cleaning spell on the vegetable, looks down at me with a worried expression. He’s as kind as ever. But cooking’s something I genuinely enjoy doing, and it’s a great chance to meet interesting otherworldly ingredients too! I make a triumphant fist with the now sparkling-clean sea lotus in one hand, and Mr. Ville gives me a light pat on the back as if to say, “Then do your best.” There’s no way I can let down expectations like that!

Riding the surge of motivation, I grip the borrowed knife and dive right in.

“Ohh! The inside’s totally white! Same color as the tips of the flower petals.”

Cutting into the sea lotus to see what it’s like, out comes a flesh so white it’s hard to imagine from the black skin. Regular lotus root you find at the supermarket has a faint cream tint inside, but this sea lotus is a milky white, like someone shaped milk itself into lotus root form.

Personally, when it comes to supermarket lotus root, I usually wash it well and eat it with the skin on, but this sea lotus may be a little too black for that. That old guy just said it didn’t look tasty, after all, and appearance really does affect appetite sometimes. Better to peel this one nice and clean. Next up… I’ll roughly chop half of it, while grating the other half to use as a binder. I’ll slice the other vegetables thinly to go into the soup as ingredients… All right! Now that I’ve decided what I’m making, all that’s left is to cook!

Peeling the vegetables, shaving off a bit of the fat from the belly cut… Both the thigh and belly cuts were pretty big chunks, so I’ll use half of each. In today’s soup, the meat’s role is strictly to add flavor. Normally the meat would be the star of the show, but this time it’s playing the supporting role, boosting the gentle flavor of the vegetables from behind the scenes!

“Mr. Ed, Mr. Ed! Could you grind this into mince with magic real quick?”

“Sure thing! I’m looking forward to something delicious!”

“Ms. Aria, could you slice these vegetables up nice and quick?”

“Mm!!! Leave it to me!!!”

“W-wait, Ari’s actually helping with cooking!?”

“Wh-What’s this world coming to!?”

While Mr. Ed magically minces the meat beside me, Ms. Aria slices the vegetables with her threads. Since both of them are familiar with this place, I figured I’d ask them to help out, but the regular old men and ladies all get emotional, going "Ari’s actually able to help someone out…!" Guess that just shows how much she’s been doted on around here? Mr. Ed’s getting looks like "not bad, you," too, so guess asking them to help was the right call.

Once the two of them, beaming under all the crowd’s praise, hand off the ingredients to me, it’s my turn to get to work. I mix the meat with just salt and pepper until it gets sticky, then add in the grated and finely chopped sea lotus, mixing that in thoroughly too. The ginger-like aromatic root that was mixed in with the basket gets grated in generously too. Once it feels sufficiently blended, the meat prep is done!

“All right, time to make the soup!”

I finely chop the boar fat I have saved and dry-fry it in a large pot to render out the fat first. Once enough fat seeps out to lightly coat the bottom of the pot, accompanied by a nutty, savory aroma, I dump in the sliced vegetables! The hot fat reacts with the moisture in the vegetables, producing a loud, mouthwatering sizzle. If I lightly cook the vegetables here to drive out some of their moisture while coating them in fat at the same time, they become nicely fragrant and seem to develop an even better flavor… or at least, that’s how it feels to me.

Once the fat’s coated everything reasonably well, I pour in a suitable amount of water. Since this is going for soup, I’ll go a bit heavier on the water. There were also some dried mushrooms in the basket, so I use the water they were rehydrated in as broth too, tossing in the rehydrated mushrooms along with it.

All that’s left is to put the lid on and wait a while for it to come to a boil.

“Miss, you sure work fast! I can tell just by watching that it’s gonna be delicious.”

“Seeing all that prep work has really made me appreciate how useful magic is. Too bad I can’t use it myself.”

“Still, when you lot came here last time, you barely made it here looking like you were starving to death… And now you’re all looking pretty lively!”

“Right? After all, this time, we’ve got a first-rate baggage carrier with us.”

As I steadily continue cooking, the customers crowd around and fuss over Mr. Ville. When they say “came here last time,” are they talking about back when Mr. Ed was still the bangs-hidden type? Did they come here to celebrate the formation of their party? Or perhaps they tagged along when Ms. Aria came home to visit?

“…But never mind us. More importantly, has anything changed around town lately?”

“Changed, huh… well, the lord changed, sure, but us regular folk’s lives ain’t changed one bit!”

“If anything, seems like those bustards have been running wild taking advantage of all the confusion from the changeover!”

“And the officials are completely useless too. Makes you wonder if someone’s slipped them a bribe.”

“Speaking of changes, lately the Mera Capres have been coming up onto land a lot… Should we be worried about that?”

As I skim the scum from the broth and listen carefully to the conversations around me, it seems Mr. Ville has steered them skillfully. The regulars must have had plenty bottled up inside, because once the topic comes up, unsettling remarks come pouring out.

Is this the trouble in town that Mr. Captain was talking about? And what exactly are these Mera Capres?

Since it’s such an interesting topic, I really wanted to focus my ears on it, but right at this exact moment, the pot starts happily bubbling away! Good timing for the cooking, bad timing for eavesdropping… It’s a complicated feeling, honestly. But there’s no use lamenting that now. Let’s finish the dish first, then go ask around about what’s bothering me!

“Since this is meant as a closing soup, maybe the meat should stay on the smaller side?”

“Eh… meat, small…?”

“If I made the meatballs too big, wouldn’t it turn into a main dish instead of a closing one?”

“…That is true…”

Perhaps she catches my mutter as I regain my composure and drop spoonfuls of the meat mixture into the pot. Ms. Aria looks at me with an incredibly sad expression. Seems she has been hoping for some nice, big meatballs.

I mean, I do think a soup with huge meatballs simmered together with napa cabbage and glass noodles, like lion’s head meatballs, is delicious. I really do. But… that wouldn’t be a closer anymore. That’d be a proper main dish.

When it comes to a closing soup, I think it should be something that cuts off the desire for more alcohol and soothes the soul with a gentle flavor. After all, give a drinker something to nibble on, and they’ll keep drinking forever… Then again, they’ll probably keep drinking even when there’s nothing to nibble on, right?

Each time I drop in a small ball of meat mixture, new rings of fat bloom on the surface where the white and yellow swirl together. Watching the soup glitter and dance under the lamplight as I keep talking, Ms. Aria seems to reluctantly come around to it. Being a drinker herself too, I think she understood the reasoning on an emotional level.

“If you want bigger meatballs, I’ll make them separately another time. How about frying them up nice and big and covering them with a sweet-and-sour sauce?”

“What’s that…! Sounds so delicious!”

“Right? You can look forward to it!”

“Okay!”

Offering an alternative for Ms. Aria, who still seems to be nursing some lingering disappointment, her eyes light up brightly and she nods vigorously. Yup, this expression really suits her.

But honestly, I do think it’d be delicious. Big meatballs with root vegetables mixed in, deep-fried plain, then drizzled generously with a rich, dark sweet-and-sour glaze. The hearty meatballs stay soft, the chopped root vegetables add a crisp, crunchy accent, and the sweet-vinegar glaze ties it all together!

Once I’ve got the time and energy to spare, I’ll make it!

“Come to think of it, Ms. Aria, do you know what Mera Capres are?”

“…You mean little sea-goats…?”

From the pot, now simmering away merrily after I’ve dropped in the last of the meatballs, an absolutely wonderful smell drifts up. Breathing that scent in deeply, I ask, and Ms. Aria answers, tilting her head slightly.

Mera Capres, apparently, are some kind of sea-snail monsters living in the waters around here, or something like that… Their appearance is supposedly something between a pond snail and a land snail, but with the coloring of a sea slug. People even call them dragons, but they’re sluggish creatures, and most are quite small, so nobody considers them particularly dangerous.

“…But, like that guy said, having so many show up like that… I’ve never heard of that…”

“Come to think of it, there was also that huge outbreak of Cotton Birds in the elven village because of the disturbance in the Guardian Bird’s magical power, right? Could this be related to whatever’s happening on this island somehow?”

The savory scent of the simmering meat mingling with the sweet aroma of the vegetables… it already smells delicious enough just from this alone, but I can’t stop these ominous thoughts! Still, with so little confirmed information about the island right now, rather than spiraling into anxiety over vague speculation, I should focus on what I’m doing right now—cooking for everyone!

I rally myself and take out the remaining miso from the seasoning box. The miso I set aside before boarding the ship has lasted just the right amount. I’ve heard that the vitamins in miso are good for dealing with hangovers, and that miso soup is an efficient way to replenish both the salt and water that alcohol’s diuretic effect tends to deplete, so I figure it’s perfect for serving to a bunch of drunk customers.

…Though I said all that, the real main reason is just that it’d taste good. After all, anyone who has ever tried the pork miso soup knows that pork and miso are a match made in heaven! So I figure miso would suit boar soup just as well!

The customers here are mostly locals, so miso flavor isn’t something they’re used to, but given how well our party’s taken to Japanese-style menus, and how popular the shipboard party menu turned out to be, I think Japanese-style seasoning tends to go over pretty well here, honestly.

“If miso goes well with pork, then I think it’ll go well with boar too.”

“Really?”

“Well, that’s just my personal opinion.”

I’ve never had boar hot pot with a soy sauce-based broth, so someone might say it’s presumptuous of me to declare that “miso is the perfect match!” And, well, they would have a point. But once, when I went to a mountain lodge with my entire extended family, we had boar miso hot pot and miso-marinated hoba-yaki, and they were unbelievably delicious…! I just can’t forget that taste.

So, somewhere along the way, I’ve developed this equation in my head: “Boar = miso!”

I dissolve the miso remaining in the container with some of the soup, then pour it into the pot! Doing it this way leaves fewer undissolved lumps and gives the soup a nice consistency. When I give it a gentle stir, a wonderful aroma wafts up and tickles my nose.

“Mmmmmm. This already smells delicious enough to eat! But I should still taste-test it properly.”

Taking a small sip from a little dish of the broth, and wow, it’s turned into a soup packed with concentrated sweetness and umami! The vegetables, mushrooms, and boar meat are all releasing their umami beautifully!

Genuinely delicious. Deeply, quietly delicious.

I think it’s turned out good enough to convince stomachs full of alcohol that "this really is the closer, you know." Rich, yet not overwhelming—like a proper pork miso soup! I might’ve made something pretty incredible here, if I do say so myself.

Piercing into my back while I congratulate myself are the gazes of Ms. Aria and the customers. There’s a saying that eyes speak louder than words, and this is exactly it. "Hey, what’s it taste like? What’s it taste like?" their eyes ask, without a word spoken.

“Um… want a taste?”

“Yes! Of course!”

When those eyes stare at me like an abandoned puppy’s, do I have any choice but to offer a small tasting dish? No, of course not (rhetorical question). That said, I was planning to have her taste it anyway, since I wanted to know a local’s take on it, so it’s a fitting coincidence, I suppose.

Handing Ms. Aria one of the smaller meatballs and a bit of the broth with a spoon, her face lights up brightly.

“Ah! No fair, Ari!”

“Why does Ari get it all to herself?!”

“Helper’s privilege!”

Unfazed by the customers’ half-teasing booing, Ms. Aria brings the taste-test soup to her mouth with a smug look. The moment she does, her eyes light up brilliantly.

Good, seems she likes it.

“Amazing! The soup, and the meat, all delicious!”

“Glad to hear it. Do you think everyone else will like it too?”

“Mm! Everyone will love it!”

I’d thought I’d made something delicious in my own right, but having a local’s stamp of approval feels different, reassuring. Confidence that it’s safe to serve to everyone wells up in me all over again.

Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I can see the regulars leaning forward eagerly, waiting on tenterhooks for the dish to be finished… Being anticipated like this while cooking is nerve-wracking, wondering if they’ll actually love it, but it’s genuinely a happy feeling too.

“Well then, now that I’ve got Ms. Aria’s stamp of approval. Sorry for the wait! Here’s your closing dish, Island Boar soup!”

Raising my arm to the crowd, already buzzing from Ms. Aria’s review, a roar of cheers goes up.

But wait, this doesn’t seem like just cheering for the food arriving? Puzzled, I glance around the shop, and it looks like people are gathering by the counter too?

While I prepare the bowls, still wondering what’s going on, Mr. Xenon makes his way toward me through the crowd. Through the gap in the people he parts, I catch sight of one of the slightly tall small tables used by the standing drinkers, with Mr. Ville and what appears to be a customer seated on opposite sides, locked in an arm-wrestling match…!

“Oh, Rin. Is the food ready?”

“Ah, yes. I think it turned out delicious, if I do say so myself… but what’s going on here?”

“Well… how should I put it… some drunk customers took notice of Ville’s build and challenged him to a match.”

Mr. Xenon comes over as I squint, trying to figure out what’s happening. That look of trouble on his face must be because of the person at the center of all this commotion. Guess while gathering information, he somehow got roped into a strength contest.

“I see. So…”

“By the way, he’s currently on a nine-match winning streak.”

“Wow…! As expected of Mr. Ville.”

As I stand there half in a daze, a dull THUD reaches my ears, like meat striking a board. Apparently, the match is over. And the winner is…

“WHOAAA! Ten wins straight!”

“Amazing, buddy! You’re seriously strong!”

“No way! He doesn’t even look tired!”

…Yup. This is definitely a victory for Mr. Ville! Given his species traits, he can pull off strength beyond a human’s, but managing to win this many matches in a row against a crowd of strength-boasting men is still impressive. Though the flip side is he’s probably going to be starving after this. Mr. Ville really does burn through energy fast.

I offer Mr. Ville a mental cheer for his victory as he gets mobbed in the middle of the crowd, then start arranging bowls filled with soup along the counter. Since there are quite a few people, everyone can help themselves.

“…You’re back, Rin.”

“Great work out there, Mr. Ville. Congrats on the ten wins!”

“Oh, you saw that? Well, how should I put it… the conversation just flowed that way.”

“I only caught the last match. But I guess I came back at just the right time? The closing soup’s ready.”

I raise a hand to answer Mr. Ville as he returns looking a little embarrassed, and he immediately gives me a loud high five. Keeping my hand raised, I point toward the soup on the counter, and an even louder cheer erupts—not only from Mr. Ville, but from everyone in the already-excited crowd. The spectators who have been milling around the center of the tavern come rushing toward the counter with a great "Waaah!" Even so, the fact that it doesn’t turn into a brawl is proof that this place has a pretty good class of customers.

“Not quite the victor’s champagne, but how about a welcome-back bowl?”

“I’ll gladly have some.”

I hand the winner of the first Tavern Cup arm-wrestling tournament a bowl filled generously with both ingredients and broth. The spectators also take bowls one after another and seem to be enjoying their own finishing servings however they like.

Hearing "delicious!" from all corners of the room, I feel a genuine happiness at how worthwhile it was to cook. To shake off my embarrassment, I take a sip of the boar soup myself.

“Sooooo good!”

I knew from the taste test, but honestly, this really turns out to be top-tier. The rich, mellow boar fat and deep meaty umami hit my tongue with real force. Trailing just behind is the gentle sweetness seeping out from the vegetables. The deep, rich miso wraps everything together beautifully, creating a truly exquisite harmony in my mouth. Since I kept the seasoning on the lighter side, I don’t feel too guilty even after finishing the whole bowl.

And the meatballs are so wonderfully chewy and springy despite using no binder other than sea lotus! Every time I bite into one, hot meat juices gush out—I almost burned myself, honestly.

What surprises me even more is the canary radish, which I completely mistake for daikon at first. Even while cutting it, I think, "Isn’t this more like a turnip than a daikon?" And once I eat it, it’s even more like a turnip! It’s sweet and practically melts in my mouth… and it goes incredibly well with the miso flavor.

The snow-carrot, too, has more of a pumpkin-like texture than a carrot. This island’s root vegetables sure have some interesting ones.

“I know your cooking is delicious, but somehow it feels especially satisfying tonight.”

“Hahaha! Maybe thanks to ten straight arm-wrestling wins?”

“It’s incredibly delicious even for me, who was only watching from the sidelines! The vegetables soaked with the meatballs’ savory juices and the meatballs infused with the vegetables’ sweetness are both exquisite!”

“And the soup, with the flavors of both blended into it, is delicious too. The rich saltiness feels like it’s working its way into my tired body.”

Just as the unabashed praise is starting to make me more embarrassed than pleased, Ms. Layla approaches me, the hem of her robes making a soft rustling sound. Until just now, there’d been a whole crowd of customers around us, but the crowd parts clean in two like a scene straight out of Moses parting the sea.

“I know from Aria’s letter that you’re a wonderful cook, but you really are skilled. It was absolutely delicious.”

“Thank you very much. I’m so happy to hear you say that!”

“It’s getting quite late into the night, but would you mind if I borrowed a bit more of your time? I’d love to hear about your travels…”

Is there anyone in this world who could resist an invitation from a beauty smiling so alluringly, wrapped in the atmosphere of a starlit sky? Even though I notice Ms. Aria scowling furiously behind her, my head is already bobbing up and down in agreement with Ms. Layla’s proposal.

We settle back into the box seats along the side of the tavern where we sat before, accompanied by the establishment’s signature herbal tea blend. Before long, I’m happily swapping stories about everything we’ve been through: clearing that mysterious dungeon that appeared out of nowhere, exploring the underwater temple, visiting the elven village… When it comes to our party, there is certainly no shortage of conversation topics.

“You really have traveled to all sorts of places.”

Ms. Layla listens to every story I tell, one after another, with obvious delight. Mr. Xenon’s mother, Ms. Lusha, was a great listener too, I think, but Ms. Layla’s on a whole other level… The timing of her nods, how she chimes in with little responses—she’s so incredibly skilled at it that I just keep talking and talking! I don’t know much about it, but is this normal for a fortune teller, being this good at listening? Could Ms. Layla secretly be some kind of information-gathering specialist, like a female spy or kunoichi or something!?

“I see, I see… listening to all this, the key here seems to be you, Rin.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes. Ever since you arrived, all sorts of things seem to have started moving, right?”

While I’m inwardly fretting over whether I’ve said anything I shouldn’t have, Ms. Layla lets her robe’s decorations rustle softly as she pulls something out. Set against a deep indigo background, geometric patterns drawn in what looks like gold paint… aren’t these what are called tarot cards, or something along those lines?

“As thanks for the delicious soup, let me read your fortune a little.”

No sooner said than done, her pale, slender fingers shuffle through the twilight-colored cards in a smooth cascade. Is whatever she’s whispering under her breath a spell or something…?

Shuffled, spread out, gathered back together, cut into several piles and reassembled… and before I know it, the cards are laid out in some kind of pattern. I guess this is what they mean by a feat so fast the eye can’t follow it.

“…Hmm… there’s trouble ahead… but a path to resolution opens up…”

“T-Trouble? You mean something else is going to happen!?”

Ms. Layla’s brow furrows with something like pain as she flips one card after another.

You’ve got to be kidding me…! Trouble predicted here too…!? Just how turbulent is my future supposed to be!? I’m someone who’s only familiar with the horoscope on the morning news when it comes to fortune-telling! This is my first time ever having my fortune read with actual cards like this!

“Both a card representing good omens and a card suggesting trouble have come up. But there’s also a card representing ‘cooperation’ and one for ‘resolution,’ so I think it means that working together, this can be resolved.”

“Working together leads to resolution"—that just means the same as always, right? As long as everyone in the party pools our strength and wisdom together, we’ll be fine. If that’s the case, I’ve got full confidence we can pull through!

“That said, it’s not all bad news. Sure, you’ve probably run into trouble at every turn along the way, but haven’t there been just as many wonderful encounters to balance it out?”

“Yes, that’s true. I’ve met all kinds of people, and every encounter has given me an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything…”

“That’s exactly why, in the next bit of trouble too, there’s bound to be a good encounter waiting. I believe it will become something that nourishes you.”

As if pushing me forward with renewed spirit, Ms. Layla flips another card and smiles warmly.

“Ah, that’s right. Could you show me your palm too? Aria mentioned you had hands made for cooking delicious food, and I wanted to take a look.”

“Ahh… She did say that.”

Placing both palms into Ms. Layla’s outstretched hand, a cool chill similar to Ms. Aria’s own touch reaches me. Seems Ms. Layla runs on the cooler side too, temperature-wise.

“Oh, how warm. You have such a pleasant body temperature.”

“Right? Rin’s hands feel super nice!”

“People often tell me I have hands that are good for making bread. On the other hand, they’re terrible for making things like scones and pie crust, since the dough gets too soft from the warmth.”

My hands, which also impressed Ms. Aria, stay warm even in winter. Yup, definitely not the ideal hands for dough where you’re not supposed to melt the butter.

“Hehe. Look, here. This is called the Mound of Merge, but see how plump it is on your hand?”

Ms. Layla, having studied my palm for a while, presses gently into the mound at the base of my thumb. What you’d call the thenar eminence.

“This spot’s said to hold the power of creation.”

“The power of creation…! That sounds kind of cool, actually.”

“Cooking is a form of creation too. That’s why I think this role as cooking duty suits you perfectly, Ms. Rin.”

“I see!”

Wow! Hearing that put like that, I’m starting to feel like maybe it’s true! …Wait! Hold on, who just thought I was easy to sway right there? A little basking in the compliment never hurt anyone, come on!

Ms. Layla, tracing various spots on my hand and weaving words as she goes, has me completely captivated.

“And this, the Mound of Heera, is soft too, and the Cup of Yuril runs deep. That suggests you have an aptitude for healing others as well.”

“Ohhh… so that spot carries that kind of meaning.”

Next indicated is the mound at the base of the pinky—the hypothenar eminence—and the hollow in the center of the palm. A lot of unfamiliar terminology comes up, but since she’s touching each spot as she explains, it doesn’t feel too confusing.

Being suited for healing means I wasn’t wrong to have worked in caregiving. It feels like my past path is being validated somehow, and it puts me a little at ease.

“…Though, well… you seem the type to get so caught up in enjoying yourself that you neglect your own care, so be careful of that. It’s important to lean on those around you too, you know?”

“Ah, yes… I’ll be careful…”

Whoa! Whoaaa!!! Seriously!? You can tell all that just from looking at my hand!? Eh, isn’t Ms. Layla amazing!? Glancing over at Ms. Aria, she’s puffing her chest out with immense pride. Yup. I get it. With skills this impressive, of course you’d want to say, "Isn’t my mom incredible!”

…But that is as far as I get to enjoy such carefree thoughts.

“…Well, that’s more or less how the fortune-telling goes… but actually, I do have one specific idea about a source of trouble that might be headed your way.”

I can feel the atmosphere suddenly tense at Ms. Layla’s words as she puts away the cards. The only one who remains completely unchanged is Gomamiso, who continues sleeping soundly on my lap. Everyone else keeps their usual expressions, but they’re concentrating intently so they don’t miss a single word Ms. Layla says.

…Which, conversely, makes you wonder just how thick Gomamiso’s nerves must be, sleeping soundly through this kind of mood?

“You’ve all probably heard that things around here have become somewhat troublesome lately, right?”

“Um… are you referring to how things haven’t been going particularly well since the new lord took over?”

“If you’ve heard that much… then perhaps you’ll understand if I say that an old fox who’s been here for ages is running wild throughout this area, taking advantage of the situation to line his own pockets while hiding it from those ‘above’ him.”

Ms. Layla’s voice stays quiet throughout, but underneath it, there’s something simmering that sounds like anger or indignation.

Thinking calmly about it, that does make sense. There’s no way someone Mr. Noah personally selected as the new lord could be incompetent. And yet, if there is a disconnect between the people at the top and what’s happening on the ground, perhaps he hasn’t managed to keep the reins on the local old fox—the administrator—properly. That is what I’ve been thinking, and judging from the way Ms. Layla puts it, it seems I have the right idea.

“So, um… from what I’ve heard from various people, the new lord seems like a capable person, but things don’t seem to be going very well.”

“That’s right… the new lord isn’t a bad person, and I do think he’s competent, but it hasn’t been that long since the change in leadership. He hasn’t been able to handle the town administrator, who’s been throwing his weight around since the previous lord’s days.”

“Ah, ahh… I see. That kind of makes sense now.”

So it’s one of those situations where some old-timer has accumulated weird amounts of power, and the new second-generation guy hasn’t quite figured out how to deal with him. It’s different from what I imagined, but it’s a much more common story than I expected!

“…When a rotten person holds power, nothing good ever comes of it.”

In front of Ms. Layla, who moistens her lips with herbal tea, Mr. Ville wears a bitter expression.

From Mr. Ville’s perspective, whose half-brother is the current reigning king, seeing someone appointed by his brother being treated with contempt probably makes him feel as though Mr. Noah himself is being disrespected indirectly. And on top of that, being fundamentally serious-minded, Mr. Ville probably feels genuine disgust at someone in a position of authority pulling this kind of dirty business.

“…Say, Mr. Ville. Couldn’t this issue be reported to Mr. Noah?”

“It’s not impossible, but the personnel authority my brother holds only extends to this island’s lord. Meddling with the town administrator’s personnel would count as a serious overstep of authority.”

“Ah, right! That’s the kind of relationship they have.”

I tried quietly consulting Mr. Ville about it, but… the answer that came back is exactly what you’d expect, honestly. Even for a king, there are areas he just can’t touch. It’d amount to exercising power right over the head of the very lord he personally appointed. That’d end up making Mr. Noah look like the bad guy instead.

Which means, even if we managed to grab hold of evidence—bribery, proof of wrongdoing, that sort of thing—unless we handle it very carefully, there’s a real risk the new lord himself could end up punished for "failure of oversight.”

“I just had a thought… this job we took on back in Ellarge… could the client possibly be the new lord himself?”

“Ehh!? Is that even possible?”

Mr. Xenon, who’d been mulling something over with a fist to his chin, suddenly looks up and voices this thought, and my own voice comes out much higher than I expect.

I mean… wouldn’t the lord have considerable authority over this whole island? Would someone in that position really need to anonymously commission an outside guild for an investigation like this? Couldn’t he just use his own subordinates or something?

“…Hmm. If we assume that having authority also means having to deal with interference and various entanglements, then it’s not impossible that he commissioned outsiders to avoid them… I think.”

“Ah. Like, if his own people tried to investigate, information might leak through a spy planted inside… something like that?”

Following Mr. Xenon’s line of thought, Mr. Ville and Mr. Ed’s continued reasoning leaves me somehow convinced. If the circumstances are as they describe, the anonymous naming of us starts to make a bit more sense… maybe? Still, the question of why it had to be us specifically remains unanswered, though.

“If that’s the case, the new lord may already have reported to my brother that he’s currently unable to keep the town administrator under control.”

“He does seem like a competent person, so I’d guess he’d handle that kind of reporting properly too.”

Personally, I think being able to report even things that might reflect poorly on your own evaluation, honestly and without hiding anything, to your superior, is a genuinely necessary skill. Especially when your post is far from headquarters where your boss is. Knowing Mr. Noah, I’m sure he properly chooses people who are capable of doing that.

…Which means, given this job we took on—"investigate and report on the current state of Aios Island"—what we should actually be doing is…

Just as my head starts spinning with too many things to consider, a sharp clap rings out suddenly, and Gomamiso, dozing on my lap, snaps upright in an instant.

‘Nya! What? Enemy attack!?’

Its ears and tail stand straight up as it scans the surroundings with what it considers an intimidating glare. The sound’s just Ms. Layla clapping her hands together, so no enemy attack of any kind. Maybe this served as a trigger, but the tense atmosphere seems to burst like a popped balloon. Is this what they call having the tension broken?

“I’m sorry for ruining such a nice mood with talk like that. But conversations like this shouldn’t happen at night. They tend to spiral in a negative direction.”

Still holding her hands together in front of her chest, Ms. Layla smiles serenely. Hmm. She doesn’t seem angry, but a beautiful woman’s smile still carries some real weight to it!

That said, I really can’t argue with her point. I’ve heard brooding at night isn’t good for you either.

“Difficult conversations are better saved for when it’s brighter out.”

“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I bow my head to Ms. Layla as she smiles sweetly, and she laughs with a voice like a softly rolling bell… but then, that smile suddenly clouds over.

“It’s already late, and you all must be tired after such a long journey. I’d like to tell you to get a good rest, but… Aria told me that you wouldn’t need accommodations, so I didn’t arrange rooms at an inn. Are you really sure that’s all right?”

“Mm. We’ll all camp out… It’s fine.”

To Ms. Layla, glancing over with a worried look, Ms. Aria answers with her chest puffed out proudly.

It’s true that sleeping in the Camping Car doesn’t cost us anything and is probably more comfortable than some lousy inn room, but I’m worried about how it will look to people outside our group. What if someone spots people stepping in and out of what looks like empty space!?

…Or so I thought… but according to Ms. Aria, if I park the Camping Car under a garden tree behind the tavern and we rig up a tarp using the branches, it’ll look like we’re just camping in the shade of the tree. And if we keep watch outside the tarp on rotation, it shouldn’t raise any eyebrows at a casual glance, she said. She’s even thought about how to avoid drawing attention from others. I’m nothing but grateful!

“Then… shall we go?”

Prompted by Ms. Aria, who’s already risen to her feet, we leave the still-boisterous tavern. From behind us, calls of "That was delicious!" and "Make it again sometime!" ring out, genuinely making me happy. Having something you made appreciated by others really is a wonderful thing!

Stepping outside, a damp, salt-laden breeze brushes across my cheeks. It feels wonderfully cool compared to the heat inside the shop, almost unbelievably so.

“Around here, the sea breeze blows at night. Even in summer, there’s wind, so it feels pretty cool.”

“Ah, I know what you mean. Whether there’s a breeze or not makes a big difference in how it feels.”

Chatting idly as we round to the back of the tavern, there stands a tree far too grand to be called a mere "garden tree," its roots firmly planted deep. Sure enough, under this, the Camping Car should blend right in unnoticed! After I park the car right at the base of the tree, we tie the large tarp we’d bought back in Ellarge—rarely used until now—between the branches, letting it hang down… and in no time at all, tonight’s sleeping arrangements are complete!

As for me, I’m excluded from the watch rotation on the grounds that “Rin… worked hard… making the food!” I feel a little guilty about it, but I can’t deny that I appreciate it.

“Well then… sorry, but I’ll go ahead and rest first.”

“Yeah. Good night, Rin. I’ll be counting on another delicious meal tomorrow.”

“Night, Rin. Sleep well!”

“Rin, thanks. Looking forward to tomorrow’s food, too!”

“Thank you for everything today. Have pleasant dreams.”

As I climb into the bunk bed, already half in a daze, everyone pauses their rock-paper-scissors match to decide the watch order and waves to me. They’re all so incredibly kind… Mr. Ville casually casts a cleaning spell on me as well, and the sticky discomfort left on my skin by the salty sea breeze vanishes instantly.

‘Heyyy, hey. Today, this me gonna let you specially pet my belly, you knowww.’

“Mm… thanks… Miso, go to sleep too, okay?”

Apparently delighted by how clean and fresh its fur feels, Gomamiso bounds over to me, and I bury my face in its fluffy belly fur… That’s the last thing I remember.

◆◇◆

“Wow. Being right by the sea, mornings sure start early!”

We’d slept the night parked behind the tavern in the Camping Car, but the morning sun turned out way brighter than expected, waking me up. Stepping outside, lively voices carry over from the direction of the harbor. Fish unloading, maybe an auction starting up? Or actually, timing-wise, unloading and the auction are probably already done, so maybe it’s just locals coming to shop already. Either way, there’s a ton of energy this early, right after sunrise.

‘Ueeeh… all salty now!’

“Ohhh… It’s from the sea breeze, isn’t it? No wonder you’d get salty. Want a full-body wash?”

‘Being salty’s bad enough, but washing’s even worse!’

“I bet!”

At my feet, wrapped in an indescribable sense of wonder, Gomamiso, mid-grooming, licks its front paw and lets out a yelp. Did it already forget it got salty yesterday too? Especially since we had both the windows and the cabin door open last night. If you spend the whole night like that right next to the sea… of course you’re going to end up as salty as salted salmon. Salt-pickled Gomamiso, I guess?

Wow, the salt concentration must be absolutely ridiculous!

While petting Gomamiso, who’s stubbornly resisting a full-body wash all the same, I glance out at the lively, bustling town.

“Looking at it from here, it seems so peaceful, but there’s actually a spark of trouble buried underneath… pretty tough stuff, honestly.”

The scent of breakfast cooking wafts through the street, with peddlers coming through selling fresh morning catch. Looks like a scene straight out of a bustling fishing village, and yet there’s factional conflicts and whatnot brewing underneath it all.

Given it’s Ms. Aria’s hometown too, if it were up to me, I really wouldn’t want it to fall into that kind of man-made turmoil.

“You’re up early, Rin. Already awake, huh?”

“Morning, Mr. Ville. The brightness and all the noise got to me, so I ended up waking up.”

While I’m zoning out, breathing in the fresh morning air, a familiar voice drifts over from behind me. He called me an early riser, but Mr. Ville’s plenty early himself!

…Though apparently, by adventurer standards, this counts as sleeping in fairly late. Since the moment the day’s requests get posted, there’s a scramble for the good ones, so a lot of adventurers wait outside the guild even before it opens. Mr. Ville and his party can take on pretty much any request within a certain level range, so they don’t need to be quite that desperate about it.

“Now then, what should we do for breakfast? Shall we head to the market and see what ingredients we can find?”

“About that, I have a message from Aria’s mother. She says they’ll be closing for the day soon, so we should eat together once they’re finished.”

“Ehh!? They were still open this whole time!?”

“The harbor area around here has people active from night through morning, so they keep their business hours accordingly.”

To my surprise, Mr. Ville explains that early in the night, regular folks coming off work stop by for a drink, and fishermen heading out for the catch grab a meal before heading out. Then, come morning, fishermen returning and people who went to the auction stop by for an end-of-work drink, and people heading to work grab breakfast.

Thinking back, sure enough, there were definitely customers who weren’t drinking alcohol! Instead, they were digging into meat, fish, and bread!

I see. Opens at night, runs through morning, sleeps through the afternoon… business hours matched to the local residents’ work schedules. That explains why Ms. Aria has said her mother would be asleep if we arrived at midday and couldn’t meet us. If anything, we’d just be interrupting her precious sleep time.

“In that case, should I help out with cleaning or tidying up the tavern?”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. Closing duties aren’t that much work.”

“Eh, ah… g-good morning?”

While I tilt my head, wondering if I should help out in some way to thank them for breakfast, a rich, deep voice calls out from behind me. Turning around, a man carrying a wooden crate stuffed full of empty bottles gives me a warm smile. Gentle features, wrapped in a soft, mellow atmosphere. Even though they’re empty, that’s a decent weight of bottles he’s carrying so easily, so he must have real strength, but combined with his vibe, he somehow gives off a lighter, more delicate impression compared to Mr. Ville.

I reflexively greet him with “Good morning,” but is that actually the right thing to say?

…Still, who exactly is this person? An employee of the shop? …No, I don’t think I saw him yesterday, though?

“You’re Ms. Rin, right? I always hear about you from my daughter’s letters. I hope Aria hasn’t been causing you any trouble?”

“Eh… daughter… which means… Ms. Aria’s father!?”

At the words from the man, who’s just finished tidying away the empty bottles with practiced ease and walked over toward us, my eyes widen despite myself. Ms. Aria’s dad, meaning… the one who was out getting his instrument fixed yesterday!?

I take another look at the man smiling warmly in front of me. His long, soft honey-blond hair tied back loosely, Ms. Aria’s dad looks like he could be reasonably young, or reasonably aged—hard to say. All I can tell for sure is that he’s probably quite a bit older than me.

This gentle, laid-back vibe—yup, it really does feel bard-like, come to think of it…!

“Ah, n-nice to meet you! I’m Rin, a member of the same party as Ms. Aria!”

“Likewise, nice to meet you. I’m Rail, Aria’s father. Seems my daughter’s always in your care…!”

I nearly bow my head reflexively before remembering there’s no bowing custom in this cultural sphere. I thought I’d gotten used to the local culture by now, but old habits do slip out in the moment. As if to substitute for it, I hold out my hand instead, and Mr. Rail, smiling gently, gives it a firm shake. His palm’s soft, not calloused like Mr. Ville’s, who’s constantly gripping a weapon. That fits the bard image too, honestly.

Ah, but his fingertips are pretty firm. It must be from playing the lute, I’d guess? I don’t know much about instruments, so I’m not sure how a musician’s hands typically feel!

“I really wanted to greet you all properly yesterday, but I had something I absolutely had to take care of…”

“Yes. Ms. Layla mentioned it. Your favorite instrument broke, was it… is it fixed now?”

“It’s embarrassing for a bard like me to break the very tool of my trade. Fortunately, I’ve even managed to get it tuned, so I can start playing again tonight… Ah, this isn’t really the place to talk about that.”

Mr. Rail lets out a wry laugh, scratching his head with his free hand as he releases my handshake.

“Since closing duties just wrapped up too, would you two like to join us for breakfast, if you don’t mind?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but are you sure? We won’t be getting in the way?”

“Not at all! A lively crowd just makes for a more enjoyable meal.”

Nudged along by Mr. Rail’s warm smile, we step in to find the rest of the group, having woken up, already gathered. Ms. Aria must’ve brought them along.

“Well then, let’s give thanks for being blessed with good food again today!”

In a quiet corner of the tavern, we all sit down together with the staff for a meal.

Breakfast is fish meunière, crisply toasted baguette, small fish coated and fried in breadcrumbs, and a salty broth soup made from fish scraps. Apparently, regular fishermen bring in fish that’s off-spec or doesn’t sell well as gifts. Off-spec or low market value or not… freshly caught fish has no gaminess at all, plump and springy, absolutely delicious. The butter soaked into the crispy meunière crust and the direct-flame-toasted, fragrant baguette go so well together!

I nearly wanted a single drop of soy sauce on it, but I held myself back this time.

“What are you planning to do today, Aria?”

“…Going with everyone… to Sallie’s place.”

At Ms. Layla’s question, handling her cutlery with elegant grace, Ms. Aria clenches her fist with a hint of excitement.

Sallie—must be one of Ms. Aria’s friends? From how bouncy her tone sounds, they must be really close, but what kind of person could this be?

Maybe my own excitement showed on my face without realizing it. Ms. Aria, sitting beside me, watches me with a bright smile.

…Looking at Ms. Aria’s face up close like this again, normally it’s mostly Ms. Layla’s features, but when she smiles, there’s definitely some of Mr. Rail in there too.

But in contrast to Ms. Aria’s excited mood, Ms. Layla’s expression suddenly clouds over.

“If you’re heading to Little Sally’s place, sooner would be better. Things seem quite difficult for her right now.”

“Yes. It may reduce the chances of a confrontation.”

Mr. Rail and Ms. Layla, sharing the table with us, seem well-informed about the town’s affairs, as expected of locals. Looks like something’s up here. Wait, so Sallie’s actual name is Sally? For some reason, an image of a banana-loving girl who flies through the sky on a broom flashes through my mind. Anyway, it’s a perfectly good name. Absolutely.

“? Not sure what’s going on, but… got it! After breakfast, let’s go!”

Even though Ms. Aria is confused, her eyes practically scream, “Hurry, hurry!” …yup, she is definitely being impatient. Enduring that kind of pressure in her gaze is honestly quite the task too!

…Eh? Have you thought that savoring a fish sandwich with meunière tucked into a toasted baguette wouldn’t lend much credibility to that claim? Well, sure, fair point. But it can’t be helped! A fish sandwich made with freshly caught seafood is genuinely delicious! The small fish, breaded and fried, has this crispy breadcrumb crust while the inside stays fluffy, or rich and melting with fat! Each one has its own distinct flavor and texture, absolutely the best!

I completely understand Ms. Aria’s eagerness to head out quickly, but there’s also this part of me that wants to fully savor this delicious breakfast. I guess this is what they call a dilemma. While I’m torn between the two, the last remaining fish sandwich finds its way into my stomach, timed perfectly with the meal’s finish.

“Thank you for the meal! It was absolutely delicious!”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll handle the cleanup here, so go ahead with Aria.”

“Eh… really?”

Mr. Rail, smiling warmly, says this while stacking up the empty dishes, but is it really okay to take him up on that so easily?

When I look at Mr. Rail while thinking that, he seems to genuinely mean what he says. Looking at his calm expression, thinking any further about it starts to feel almost rude. It’s important to accept someone’s kindness graciously, too.

“In that case, I’ll gladly take you up on that!”

“Absolutely. Do enjoy the island properly, all right?”

Seen off by Mr. Rail’s ever-gentle smile and the rest of the tavern crew, nudged along by Ms. Aria, we set off toward Sallie’s place.

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