A Nobleman's Dinner
I heard that when you visit someone's new home, it's an unspoken rule to bring a roll of toilet paper as a housewarming gift. Unfortunately, I didn't have anything like that with me right now. The only things I'd brought from the North were the robe I was wearing, a few simple changes of clothes, and the women who'd accompanied me. I pondered what to give as a housewarming present. What would the ancient sages have done in a situation like this?
As I mulled it over, the greatest book ever written for teaching boys internal energy suddenly came to mind—Dragon Ball. The great senior who launched a pillar into the air and rode it 2,300 kilometers across the sky had once said: If an assassin has no money, they pay the price by killing someone. It was time to return to my days as the cold-blooded City Hunter and ninja assassin.
"Hey, you got anyone you want dead lately?"
"Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"
"Housewarming gift."
"Don't say such creepy shit. I don't have anyone I want to kill."
Well, if that's how it is, I guess I have no choice. My great senior used to kill the person who refused his offer, claiming it was the assassin's fee. But I didn't particularly want to kill Ricardo. Killing an innocent person without reason was something that eunuch's grandson would do—not the act of a gentleman. Honoring the will of Liu Huangshu, who had opposed that very eunuch's spawn, I wanted to give Ricardo a housewarming gift in a different way.
"Still, I want to give you a housewarming present. Isn't there anything you want? I'll go buy it for you."
Then I could simply pay the shopkeeper in the assassin's traditional manner. Do you see that, you bastard Cao? This is the way of a true gentleman. Not some inhumane, heaven-defying atrocity like the Xuzhou Massacre, but an extremely gentlemanly and peaceful method. Watch this rationality from the depths of hell.
"Nah, forget the gift. Just get some proper sleep and focus on preparing for tomorrow's trip to the imperial palace."
If he was going to refuse the gift like this, there was nothing I could do. No matter how kind the gesture, forcing it on someone becomes another form of evil. The moment I did that, I'd become no different from that bastard Cao. I offered infinite gratitude to Ricardo's shining character for preventing me from walking the path of Cao.
At that moment, a woman's voice came from behind me.
"Oh my, is this the Sir Werner that Ricardo mentioned?"
"Yes, I'm Werner..."
When I turned my head, there stood a woman who was neither a stunning beauty nor particularly plain. If I had to classify her, she'd lean toward the beautiful side, but she had the kind of ordinary appearance you'd expect from NPC #1 at the flower shop in an RPG. The only notable feature was her slightly reddish hair, like autumn leaves. She was holding children with the same silver hair as Ricardo.
Ricardo chuckled and introduced his wife and children to me.
"Ah, this is my wife Flora and our children. I haven't decided on their names yet... still thinking about it."
Flora bowed her head politely, and I returned the gesture.
"We'll have to come up with pretty names soon. Would you like to offer some ideas, Sir Werner?"
"I'll have to decline. A child's name should ideally be chosen by the parents..."
Besides, I had terrible taste when it came to nicknames. My real name in my previous life had been Lee Baek-sa. It was simply because my number was 204. There were probably better Chinese characters I could have used, but I was too lazy and just went with "white" and "snake." If someone with my awful sense of naming gave their child a name, it would definitely scar them for life. Just looking at the list of people requesting name changes tells you how much suffering comes from weird names. I can't even imagine how painful life must have been for someone named Choi Gundam or Jo Jo Jo.
"Right, Flora. A child's name... No, rather than who gives the name, the meaning behind it is what's most important."
It seemed he'd adjusted his words because an orphan like me was standing right there. Honestly, he didn't need to be that considerate. I wasn't so soft that I'd be hurt by something like that, and I hated it more when people around me started walking on eggshells. Parents choosing their child's name is the right thing, isn't it? There was no need to hide the truth just because I was present.
Hadn't the French journalist of truth, Hubert Beuve-Méry, said it best? Speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Speak foolish truths foolishly, unpleasant truths unpleasantly, and sad truths sadly. So there was no need to conceal the truth just because I was here.
"Ah, it's almost time for dinner. You must be tired from the journey, so I'll have your meal sent to your room. Please eat there and rest."
To be honest, trying to follow noble etiquette—worrying about which fork or which knife to use in a grand dining hall—was uncomfortable. Meals should be eaten comfortably. If you're worrying about knives and forks even while eating, can you really call that a meal? Rice is meant to be scooped up generously with a spoon and eaten with hearty satisfaction. A noble yet comfortable meal is like pure NTR romance—two concepts that can never coexist.
"Ah, now that you mention it, I am quite tired."
Glacia, Camellia, and Airi had already returned to their rooms. I wanted to go back and relieve some of my fatigue too. No matter how steady and comfortable the Simmons carriage had been, being trapped in a confined space for so long had left me with no small amount of exhaustion.
Lying on the bed in my assigned room, I thought about many things. Everything I'd felt since arriving in this idiotic and uncomfortable game world. Was this even really inside a game? The world felt far too realistic to simply be a game setting. It might sound strange to talk about realism in a world where magic exists, but there was something about the air and the atmosphere. There wasn't the slightest hint of anything artificial. Well, that was just a feeling.
At that moment, a servant knocked on the door from outside.
"Sir Werner, I've brought your meal."
"Come in."
The servant wheeled in a serving cart and began arranging the dishes on the table prepared in the room. Then he lifted the food covers, and fragrant aromas rose into the air. But there was a familiar scent mixed in among them.
The servant began listing the dishes for me.
"First, the main course is roasted mutton. Since it has a strong gamey odor, we've used a robust sauce and plenty of spices. For the soup, we've prepared a bouillabaisse rich with—"
"Hey, let's not do such obvious acting between professionals. If you're going to show your hand, at least do it with some subtlety."
"Pardon? What do you—"
I sliced a piece of the mutton with my knife, stabbed it, then scooped up a generous spoonful of the bouillabaisse along with a clam and some broth.
"Here, why don't you try eating these two together?"
"Haha, if you're worried about poison, the spoon is silver, so—"
"I know. But I said try eating these two together, you son of a bitch."
"...I'm not sure what you mean."
"This is that thing. Combination poison. Individually they're not toxic, but when mixed, they become lethal."
Who the hell did this guy think he was dealing with—an amateur in this line of work? From the very combination of the dishes, it had been suspicious.
"How did you notice?"
The servant brushed back his bangs, revealing the emblem of the Black Round Table on his forehead. Did this idiot really think hiding it there was clever? If Ricardo ever caught him with his forehead exposed, his skull would get caved in instantly.
"You fucking idiot. Mutton—damn it, adult sheep meat. It's got such a nasty gamey smell that you need a strong sauce to cover it. But if you're serving that, the soup should be something light. A heavily spiced bouillabaisse? Are you fucking with me? I thought you might as well have just announced, 'I'm going to poison you.'"
"Even so, how did you know it was a combination poison..."
"No matter how much you try to mask it with thick sauce, spices, and the smell of shellfish, it all stands out, you morons. These guys have no knowledge of cooking and their poison-making skills are trash. Does the Black Round Table only recruit people with shit for brains?"
"Do not insult our superiors."
Insult? That's the broken black mage card you use when your field health is at 1, 2, 3, or 4.
"Ugh, I'm hungry but you've ruined my appetite. Hey, just tell me where your bosses with actual brains are. If you do, I'll stop at just tearing off your limbs..."
Before I could finish speaking, the bastard suddenly drew a dagger hidden in his clothes and swung it. So he was better at this kind of fight than poisoning, huh? That swing had some real flair to it.
"Whoa, not bad with the blade. Want to open a sushi restaurant with me?"
The guy ignored my business proposal and kept swinging his dagger. Ignoring my business proposal? A business is the very heart of democracy. To disregard it like this and resort to violence... This son of a bitch was clearly a communist. The northern communists trying to destroy democracy with violence. The real evil communists weren't the Winterheart family—it was these Black Round Table bastards. Like they say, a dog can't change its habits. Even in another world, they were trying to destroy democracy...
As the torch-bearing guardian of democracy and destroyer of communism, I could not let these bastards live.
THUD!
My fist slammed into the guy's solar plexus.
"Guhuuuugh!"
I'd clearly hit a vital point, but he only vomited instead of passing out. Just like a special agent of the communist bastards. I'm sure you have convictions about fighting for your motherland. But objectively speaking, it's nothing but violence.
"Oh, you can take that hit and keep standing? This is going to be fun to beat."
You don't need magic to crush communists. All you need are these strong arms and legs.