Chapter 9: The Guild Dining Hall

Among the list of medicinal herbs, the Mana-Berry leaves—said to be found near the entrance of the forest—seemed the easiest to gather, so I studied them carefully.

Riiing… goooong…

A bell rang from somewhere.

“We’re closing this place for lunch.”

“Eh?”

An elderly guild employee said this while opening the door. It seemed to mean I should leave for the lunch break. Ren hurriedly returned the illustrated boards to their original place, bowed politely, and left the reference room.

As he stepped out, a faint, pleasant aroma tickled his nose. Back in the main hall, the deeper area was noisy and bustling. Through the open doors, it looked like a dining hall—people were eating inside.

Curious, he decided to go in. He wasn’t deprived of meals at the mansion, but this was his first time seeing a place like this, so he wanted to observe it.

Stew of leftover vegetable scraps: 15 G
Grilled meat skewer: 30 G
Bread: 5 G
Fruit water: 5 G
Ale: 50 G

Inside the lively dining hall, several people were already drinking mugs of ale even in the middle of the day. New arrivals from behind him dropped into empty seats and casually raised a hand to call the servers.

(Is it okay to just sit wherever there’s space?)

Copying them, he chose a random table and sat down. Looking around, he made eye contact with a middle-aged woman wearing an apron. She approached him, and he ordered bread and vegetable soup.

“20 G.”

“Ah, y-yes!”

Hastily, he opened his leather coin pouch and reached inside, but the woman placed a small wooden board labeled “Soup” onto the table with a clack.

“Get your payment ready before I come back.”

(Cash-on system… huh? …Cash-on?)

Watching the woman head back toward the kitchen, he tilted his head at the unfamiliar term that had popped into his mind. He somehow understood it, which made it even stranger.

The bread and vegetable stew arrived quickly—so quickly he barely had time to prepare the payment.

“Uh… is this the big copper coin worth 10 G…?”

As he checked the coins in his palm, the server pointed at one of them.

“That’s a big copper coin. Two of those make 20 G. Remember that properly.”

“Ah, yes.”

He handed over two coins, which she scooped up and slipped into her apron pocket before walking away.

The bread that arrived was glossy and slightly warm, but firm to the touch. Trying to soften it in the soup, he applied pressure to break it in half.

Sliiip!

“Ah!”

Boing!

The bread slipped from his fingers and flew toward the neighboring table.

Pa-shk!

A man drinking ale caught it one-handed while still holding his mug.

“Ahh! S-sorry!”

“Hey, watch it.”

The man casually returned to drinking after tossing the bread back to him as if nothing had happened.

(Phew… I’m glad it didn’t hit his face. Still, that’s one hard bread. Even soaking it in soup won’t soften it quickly…)

After confirming how hard it was, he gave up on eating it for now and set it back on the tray with a dull thud.

The “stew of leftover vegetable scraps” was simmered until the vegetables melted into softness—and it was surprisingly delicious.