The First Sip
Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw a man standing with his legs apart, walking straight toward me. We'd wandered into a fairly deserted street, and sure enough, trouble found us right away. As expected, there wasn't a single guard in sight. After two years of getting used to the safe capital, I'd completely forgotten about this sort of thing. The nearest place with people was a ten-second sprint away at full speed.
At this point, street thugs in the city were nothing to me. Still, there was no real reason to deal with them. Fending off an ambush in the middle of the night wouldn't even get me experience points, and the pocket change they'd drop wasn't worth the effort. My thoughts were short and simple. I made a quick decision and turned it into action.
Run.
I spun around and bolted at full speed. If I'd been a real fifteen-year-old kid trembling at an adult's voice, my body might've frozen up. But there was no need to get tense over some guy who wasn't even scarier than my dad.
“Huh!? That little bastard!”
A sharp voice chased after me from behind, but I didn't stop running. Wasting time on every random thug in the city was inefficient anyway. And if this was being influenced by reality too… it probably wouldn't end with just a few punks. It might drag me into something involving an actual organization. Best to avoid anything troublesome.
By the time the thug's yelling faded into the noise of drunken passersby, he'd disappeared. Guess he didn't have the guts to rob people in a crowded area. Only then did I let out a heavy, ragged breath.
If this were a game message, it'd probably say 'Successfully escaped!' or something. Once the minor incident passed, the hunger I'd momentarily forgotten came rushing back.
I'm starving.
My body was demanding anything I could shove in my mouth. Ignoring the drunks loitering in front of the shops, I headed for the nearest tavern with the resolve to order whatever food they had, as long as it wasn't alcohol.
The old wooden door let out its familiar creak as I stepped inside. The smell of greasy food poured out the moment the door opened. Voices of people chatting happily without any regard for volume filled the air. I stood there dazed for a moment in the crowded tavern.
“Welcome. Are you alone?”
“Ah, yes.”
A server approached the entrance and asked. I gave a polite nod and answered, and without any hesitation, they started guiding me inside.
…Huh?
Something felt off. This was definitely a tavern, right? They weren't even going to check for ID or anything? I obviously looked underage. Did I really not look that young?
While countless thoughts raced through my head, a few words snapped me back to reality.
“What would you like for drinks and food?”
Drinks and food. Typical tavern style, putting drinks before food. Made sense—most people didn't come to a tavern just to eat. But here I was.
“Ah, just food for me. The menu is…”
I opened and closed my mouth while scanning the place, not knowing what they had. Feeling bad about making them wait, I decided to just order whatever caught my eye. The smiling server kept their business smile on despite the busy crowd and didn't even leave the spot.
“Take your time~”
While looking around, my eyes landed on the menu board visible between people's heads. Basic bread, soup, and stew like any other place, plus bar snacks. There were also items you wouldn't see in the capital's restaurants. Rabbit roast and venison steak, both with intense names. Wild game I'd never tried before.
Rabbit and deer, huh…
Looking at it like this, I realized how narrow the range of meat I'd eaten so far had been. With plenty of money saved up, there was no reason not to try it. I ordered without hesitation.
“I'll have the rabbit roast and venison steak, please.”
“Understood! And… you really don't need a drink?”
After finishing the order with my newfound adventurous spirit, the server asked again with a worried look, genuinely concerned about the lack of a drink.
“Huh? Ah, yes…”
“…Understood. Please wait a moment.”
When I just blinked and answered like there was no problem, the server went off toward the kitchen after a short silence.
I only realized something had gone very wrong with my order after I'd already shoved a big piece of meat into my mouth.
Let's think about it. Why were pork, beef, and chicken the common meats consumed in the 21st century? Because wild game was the kind of flavor only a small number of gourmets would appreciate. Gourmet flavors that didn't appeal to the general public. First up, the venison steak. At best, it was like tough, dry beef. Even doused in pepper, the strong wild scent wouldn't go away. To put it badly, a pungent smell that assaulted both mouth and nose lingered intensely.
Whoa, this isn't gonna work…
No matter how hungry you are, everything tastes good, but after getting used to rich boar meat in the capital, this was too much. I eventually put down my utensils and turned my head away from the venison like I was fleeing, then looked at the rabbit meat next. The presentation was pretty gruesome, but it made sense if you thought of it as lean poultry. Even if it was better than the venison, it was still just a dry lump of protein that parched your mouth. Rabbit or deer, they were both muscular bodybuilders that roamed fields and mountain paths.
Only then did I understand why the server had looked so puzzled when I said I didn't need a drink. You couldn't eat this without something to wash it down. Who would've thought eating meat could make you feel like you were suffocating?
“Um, if it's alright, would you like a drink…”
“Yes, *cough*, please.”
As if they'd expected this, the server was already nearby with a drink. I pounded my chest like the tough meat and reached out like I was demanding it right now. I didn't care if it was water or alcohol—as long as it was liquid, I needed to pour something down my throat to survive.
That was how I chugged my first drink in this life, alone in some nameless tavern.
“Phew.”
“Let me know if you need more—”
After letting out a refreshed breath, the server who had been waiting nearby left with those words. Taste aside, the refreshing feeling made everything better. Strangely enough, from then on, the lean, dry, gamey meat became somewhat edible. Was alcohol actually a spice meant to make bad food taste good? The constant appearance of alcohol in this medieval fantasy setting suddenly felt oddly realistic during this strange late-night meal.
My vision softened, and my body relaxed, forgetting its tension.
Ah, I'm getting drunk.
Proof that my clean country-raised body couldn't handle the sudden influx of alcohol. The moment I realized it, my only thought was that I needed to go back. Thankfully, I'd only had a little, so I wasn't staggering. I slowly made my way to the counter to pay, and the same server helped me out. During the transaction, my conscience pricked at me until I finally spoke up.
“Um, I'm fifteen. Is drinking… okay?”
“Huh? Ah, yes…? Why wouldn't it be?”
The server looked back at me with a puzzled expression, as if asking what the problem was. No problem? How could drinking before twenty not be a problem…?
Ah.
This was modern knowledge again. Only then did everything about entering the tavern make sense. Feeling like I'd been hit in the back of the head with a hammer, I walked out half-sober. My head was on the verge of going fuzzy, like fluffy clouds were piling up inside.
On the way back to the inn, wondering if I'd forgotten anything, I suddenly remembered an item I'd missed the last time I came to Windren. Since the location was behind the entertainment district's back alleys, I hadn't been able to go last time either, but…
Eh, whatever.
I was still mostly clear-headed, but I'd also been drinking. After a moment of hesitation, I gave up on the idea and cleared my head. The desire for rest from a full stomach and satisfaction had overridden any greed anyway. It didn't matter. If I was returning to the capital from the village, there'd be another chance. I walked steadily toward the inn with my strangely warm body.
After passing the wrinkled old innkeeper, I went to my rented room. After a quick wash, I threw myself onto the bed. Tomorrow I'd be reuniting with my family—something that should be happy, but probably wouldn't be entirely so.
Will I be able to survive…?
With that vague worry mixed with fear, I forced my eyes shut. That night, I dreamed of being beaten by my father until I died.