Doctor Bakery

“Delicious! Big brother, what was this food called again?”

“Sausage, Pero. Chew it well before you eat. Munch… Hmm, it’s a little dry. I want a bit more meat juice.”

While stroking Pero’s curly hair as he happily stuffed his cheeks with sausage, Tooyama brought a sausage from the plate to his mouth.

The smell of meat was strong.

To put it well, it had a wild flavor. To put it badly, the meat stink was strong. He could hardly sense the flavor of spices either.

The food of this world, especially food meant for commoners, still had few things that suited Tooyama’s palate as a Japanese person.

“Hmph. Tooyama, you have strangely refined tastes. You do not look as if you come from a very wealthy background, though.”

The large dog with light-blue hair and INT 1, Stolu, grumbled while biting off a piece of sausage.

After she had done something extremely embarrassing at the stall, Tooyama and Lazaar had dragged Stolu away, and now it was lunchtime.

In this place within the Open-Air Market where food stalls gathered, chairs and tables had been placed together.

It was a food court-like area where one could eat what they bought from the stalls right there, and Tooyama’s group was loitering there.

“Well, yeah. My hometown is a country that’s really fussy about food and food alone. We’re a people who won’t go to war just because missiles get fired into our territorial waters, but the instant someone sticks their neck into something food-related, we’ll tear that neck off.”

“M-Missile? What is that?”

“…Something you can finally make after counting a lot past one hundred, then adding, dividing, subtracting, and multiplying all of it.”

“…That is not the work of humans.”

Stolu deeply wrinkled her brow and murmured, “Hmm.” It resembled the face a large dog sometimes made when saying, I no longer understand anything.

“That’s not entirely wrong, Stolu. I’m taking a bite of that bread… Hmm, there’s some weird sourness to it. Lazaar’s bread didn’t have anything like this, I’m pretty sure.”

Munch. Tooyama reached for the black round bread placed in front of Stolu.

A strange sourness appeared each time he bit down. Almost every bread he had eaten since coming here had come with this sourness. Tooyama apparently did not find it very agreeable.

“…Naruhito, what will we do after this? I believe you said sausages would also be necessary for the purchasing.”

“Ah, I’ve already sent the details for that through old man Dromora. For the meat-processing stuff, it’ll take time to prepare the quantity, and we’ll need connections too. What I wanted to do here was taste-test. …Lazaar, what do you think of the sausages here?”

“Hmm, I have no particular complaints. The meat’s flavor is not bad, and it does not seem rotten.”

“Hmm… I see. Japanese people are too spoiled in the tongue.”

“Does it not suit your palate?”

“It’s not like I can’t eat it, but the meat is dry, the flavor is weak, and the meat stink bothers me. They’re not using much spice in this.”

Saying complaints about food while eating it makes me a pretty unpleasant guy, Tooyama thought and laughed self-deprecatingly.

“Hmm. Spices, especially black pepper and the like, are generally imported from the Kingdom. Even in an adventure city, they are not something that would easily reach stalls.”

“Ah, I see. Drako’s place is rich, that’s why.”

As he spoke, Tooyama remembered the taste of the steak he had eaten at Drako’s Dragon Embassy.

That had been delicious.

The black pepper used generously had elevated the meat’s stink into umami, and the gravy sauce had just the right sweetness.

When he ate the side potatoes after coating them in the sauce, their fluffiness turned juicy, and it had been supreme.

He was fairly sure that had been monster meat. Despite being richly marbled with fat, it had no heaviness at all. It was meat unlike anything he had eaten in the modern world.

As Tooyama tried to remember what meat that had been from the conversation,

“…So, it is about time you told us, Naruhito. What exactly are you planning to do at the Dragon Festival? Pomodoro, sausages, and the purchasing of several vegetables. At the moment, they do not seem related to bread ingredients.”

After biting into a sausage and drinking down some water, Lazaar slowly muttered.

His sharp eyes were staring at Tooyama.

“Oh, right. Come to think of it, I still haven’t explained it properly. Okay, everyone, attention. I’m going to explain what we’re aiming for.”

In that lively dining space, raising his voice and moving around a little did not make him stand out.

Tooyama stood up, folded his arms, and grinned.

“Bro, what you’re aiming for is what we’re aiming for. No matter what you say, I’ve got no objections.”

“…If Rida says so, then I’m the same.”

“As long as everyone has fun, I’m fine with that!”

“Um, I’m fine as long as I can eat lots of tasty things. Right, Shiro?”

“Dau!”

The ones Tooyama had chosen and saved smiled brightly.

The children who had been abandoned in the dark places of the adventure city and never picked up, who should have been discarded ones, could now look at their own future beneath the sun.

“That seems to be the case, Naruhito. Of course, that includes me. I shall follow you, my friend. That sort of thing.”

His comrade-in-arms who had survived the slave start together with him, the lizard man whom Tooyama could clearly call a friend, one of the very few in his life despite their short acquaintance, shrugged.

“Hmph. Well, you are my inquisitor. Please, give me any order you wish.”

Until just the other day, she had been a troublesome enemy. However, Tooyama had seen his old self in her distortion. The twisted sword of justice was now sheathed in the scabbard of greed.

“Hehe, I’m grateful you’re all such worthwhile friends.”

Lazaar Bakery.

The companions Tooyama Naruhito had gathered to survive this adventure city together were here.

He looked around in order at the faces of the companions surrounding this lunch, then cleared his throat.

What came to mind was his own dream. The knowledge he had obtained from the domain of the Familiar of Knowledge, the “Archive.”

However, rather than knowledge that could rule the world, Tooyama Naruhito had chosen knowledge that would help his own desires.

The Archive, no, the Bread Archive’s wisdom, now belonged to Tooyama Naruhito.

It was the knowledge of bread from a superior world.

The path walked by a world evolving through desire.

“One person suddenly thought this. Wouldn’t it be tasty if you crushed tomatoes, spread them on flat bread, and ate it?”

The eighteenth century, Spanish territory, Naples.

“One person suddenly wished this. I want something tasty I can eat while playing cards.”

The sixteenth century, southeastern England.

“One person realized this. If I sandwich a piping-hot sausage in bread to make it easy to carry, wouldn’t that be convenient?”

The twentieth century, America. New York, Brooklyn.

What Tooyama Naruhito spoke of was the history of discoveries that had been made in the modern age.

In every era and every environment, humanity has always continued to evolve food.

“We’re going to get ahead of something the people of this world still haven’t realized! It’s something someone would definitely think of someday. But this time, we’re first. We’ll be the first ones there.”

He pointed a finger at the sky.

Tooyama pointed at the sun raised directly overhead.

The only person in this world who knew it. A modern person who had lived in an age of plenty finally began to act.

“What do you intend to begin with, Naruhito?”

At Lazaar’s question, Tooyama’s narrow eyes opened wide.

His lips twisted.

“Hehe. I’m going to slam a new food culture into this other world, no, into the Empire. I’ll become this world’s Queen Margherita, John Montagu, and Nathan’s.”

Tooyama declared it.

If they did not exist in this world, he simply had to become them himself.

Tooyama Naruhito intended to establish a new history of bread in the Empire from this point onward.

“…Niko, do you understand what this man is saying?”

“No! I don’t! But I’m sure it’s something fun. Big Bro is amazing!”

“I don’t really get it, but bro! Give me instructions. I’ll follow you.”

“…Me too.”

“Me and Shiro too!”

“Morale seems to be no problem, our dear dragon slayer?”

Lazaar tilted his head and sent Tooyama a sidelong glance. His tail curled and swayed with amusement.

“Excellent. We, Lazaar Bakery, will make ‘pizza,’ ‘sandwiches,’ and ‘hot dogs’ popular in this world! According to our desires.”

“Pizza?”

“Sandwiches?”

“…Hot dogs?”

At Tooyama’s words, everyone except Tooyama tilted their heads. They seemed to have never heard of them.

“As expected, you don’t know them. Since coming here, I’ve checked the meals, the tavern menus, and the market shops. There wasn’t a single shop selling any of these.”

Tooyama’s prediction had been correct.

This world, or at least the Empire, was a region with a bread-eating culture, yet those things still did not exist.

“Naruhito, from the way you put it, those pizzas and sand…”

“Sandwiches and hot dogs.”

“Yes, those. Are they bread names, perhaps?”

“Yeah, that’s right. They’re delicious breads everyone in my hometown knows. They’re at the level where you’d ask whether there’s even anyone who hates those three.”

“…I have never heard of them. I thought I knew a fair amount about bread. Stolu, what about you?”

“Hmm? I have never heard of them either. Well, to begin with, bread is something granted to us through the angels’ blessing. Are those things the Church permits to be made?”

Prompted by Lazaar, Stolu placed a finger against her own chin and tilted her head.

If she stayed quiet, she was an unquestionable beauty, but with INT 1, she only looked like a large dog now.

“…Hmm?”

The Church. Permits to be made.

Tooyama stopped moving at those unpleasantly resonant words.

“Oh my. Could it be, could it be, could it be, Tooyama-saaan? You did not know?”

Stolu’s expression collapsed into a grin. She blinked her eyes repeatedly and snorted proudly.

“Damn it, you look so entertained. …Tell me, Stolu. What do you mean by the Church permits them to be made?”

“Wee hook, fufuun. It cannot be helped. I shall explain it to the ignorant and unstudious Tooyama.”

The large dog seemed unable to contain her joy that there was something Tooyama did not know and she did, so she folded her arms and began speaking with her usual “this, this.”

“Yeah, yes, please teach me.”

“Fufun. To begin with, bread is made from an ingredient called angel flour, which holds the angels’ blessing. It is said that when wheat is ground into flour, the angels’ blessing dwells within it.”

“Oh.”

“And then, into that angel flour, one mixes water and eggs in the amounts specified by the Church, kneads it well, and leaves it alone. Then, how mysterious! Thanks to the angels’ blessing, what should have been nothing more than flour swells when baked and becomes bread!”

“Hmm. There’s no step where you mix in dry yeast or starter?”

“Huh? Dragon?”

Apparently, when Stolu heard an unfamiliar word longer than seven syllables, she simply bugged out.

Since the conversation would not move forward, Tooyama nodded while looking at Stolu warmly.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. So, how does that story connect to Church permission and all that?”

“Hmm. Your attitude feels somewhat suspicious, but very well. It is simple. Bread is, in other words, the angels’ blessing itself. Therefore, naturally, the Church managing all of its production methods and types has been the custom since the Empire’s founding.”

The Church managed it.

I see. From the way “fermentation” was handled and the introduction of the Blessing Tax, I had a bad feeling, and as expected, the Church has its hands on bread too.

In Tooyama’s mind appeared that slit-eyed woman, and the purple eyes of a money-grubber that sometimes peeked out from there.

“…Hmm. Lazaar-kun, anything to add?”

“As our knowledgeable knight says. In the Empire, only a few types of bread made with production methods specified by the Church are permitted for sale.”

“What kinds are there?”

“Let me see. Among those widely spread among the people, a representative one would be hosbread, called poor man’s bread. It is also called bran bread because there are many admixtures. There is also brown bread, made by mixing dried bean flour into angel flour. It is so-called black bread. Other than that, there is white bread for nobles and the wealthy, and loaf bread made only from high-quality angel flour, I suppose.”

“Lazaar, among breads for commoners, is there pita bread? No, how should I put it, flat bread like this?”

Tooyama verbalized the knowledge he had obtained from the Bread Archive. He wanted to confirm whether or not it existed.

“Flat bread? Hmm, I have never heard of it. Basically, bread made from angel flour swells round when baked.”

“…Oh.”

Tooyama narrowed his eyes at Lazaar’s words. It was something like Tooyama’s habit when considering something that felt off.

The reason was that the knowledge he had obtained in the Bread Archive and Lazaar’s current explanation were slightly misaligned.

In the history of Tooyama’s world, in regions with bread-eating cultures from the Middle Ages to the early modern period, no, even until the modern period if one was careless, “flat bread” should have been a fairly mainstream type of bread.

“Lazaar, is it common to put yeast into bread starter, no, for example, to mix in beer lees?”

“…No, basically, there is no such method in the bread-making methods issued by the Church.”

For an instant, Lazaar’s eyes wavered. His way of speaking sounded as though something had caught in his throat.

“Hmm… Something feels off.”

Lazaar’s current words and Stolu’s words from earlier were both like that.

In the Empire, so-called dry yeast or starter was not used for bread fermentation. To be precise, there apparently was no culture of adding something to artificially encourage fermentation.

If that was the case, then once again, the explanation about flat bread from earlier did not match the knowledge from the Bread Archive.

“Let me confirm. Bread made with angel flour swells round when baked? Without doing anything special?”

“You are persistent, Tooyama. That is correct. That itself is the angels’ miracle!”

After hearing the large dog’s words, Tooyama closed his eyes. He recalled the wisdom of the Bread Archive.

There were broadly two ways to make bread rise.

Either add dry yeast or starter and ferment it, or naturally ferment it using only the indigenous bacteria originally present in the dough, such as lactic acid bacteria.

If the Empire’s method was as Stolu and Lazaar said, then it was a natural fermentation method. In Tooyama’s world, this production method was called sourdough.

And.

“Sour.”

Tooyama bit once more into the black bread in his hand.

From the dry, coarse dough came the faint fragrance of bread, and immediately after that, sourness appeared.

That was why it was called sourdough. Dough whose lactic acid bacterial fermentation had advanced without relying on yeast generally displayed this sort of unique sourness.

This bread was without doubt made from sourdough.

“It’s strange.”

Tooyama muttered.

That was why it was strange.

The knowledge of the Bread Archive recorded the following:

“Bread made from sourdough that spread among commoners from the Middle Ages to the early modern period tended to rise less and often had a flatter shape compared to bread made by adding yeast.”

According to Tooyama’s knowledge, sourdough without leavening agents such as baking powder should basically become bread that did not rise very much.

And yet, while this black bread’s taste was far inferior to modern bread, its rise was comparable to bread made with yeast.

In other words, in this world, even without artificially using yeast, simply kneading this “angel flour” or whatever made bread rise easily.

“…The reason pizza hasn’t been born is because there was no flat-baked bread in the first place, huh? Though Church regulations probably play a part too.”

Tooyama murmured and found the answer to the question within himself.

He had found it strange. In a region with a bread-eating culture, could something like pizza really fail to be born?

But with this, it made sense.

As had happened in Tooyama’s world as well, religion could sometimes bring about a dark age of culture.

The Church’s regulations on the creation of bread.

And this world’s peculiar mechanism of “fermentation.”

“So the soil for pizza to be born didn’t exist in the first place.”

Those two things were probably the reason why, in the Empire, a country with a bread-eating culture, something anyone could have thought of if only they had the trigger of spreading tomato paste on bread, baking it, and eating it, had still not been realized.

Hot dogs and sandwiches followed the same logic.

“I see. That money-grubber. No, those tone-deaf fools of the Angel Church. Hehehe, unlucky for you. I’ll show you what happens when you throw a Japanese person into the wilderness.”

Tooyama laughed.

What happened when one threw a Japanese person into the wilderness? The answer to that was already decided.

No matter what means or method they used, they would absolutely try to eat “something delicious” in the wilderness.

Tooyama was no exception. This other world still did not know the desire, almost like a curse, that the people of that country held toward food.

It still did not know about those among Homo sapiens who were especially seriously fussy about food and only food: Japanese people.

“Ahem. Well, that is how it is, Naruhito. I am interested in the pizza, hot dogs, and sandwiches you mentioned, but selling bread not permitted by the Church is rather…”

At Lazaar’s words, Tooyama remembered one thing.

It was the taste from that time.

Slaves, a carriage, right after his transfer to another world—

—Will you eat?

“Wait, Lazaar. Your bread. How did you make that?”

“Gulp.”

Lazaar’s tail stood straight up in a very obvious way.

“Hey, bread lizard. Don’t look away. That bread from when you and I first met, you used some kind of yeast for it, didn’t you?”

“I-I have no idea what you mean. I did not mix anything into the dough.”

“Oh? For that, when I mentioned beer lees earlier, your eyes were swimming in a very uncharacteristic way, Lazaar-kun.”

Tooyama stared intently at Lazaar. His lizard friend, who was normally calm even in battle, was clearly acting strangely.

Tooyama simply watched Lazaar, who was sweating profusely, in silence for a while.

“…Haah. I surrender. I do not feel as if I could beat you in probing each other’s stomachs. As Naruhito says, the bread I made was baked with a method unfamiliar in the Empire.”

Lazaar collapsed onto the table, then waved his tail in surrender.

“Oh? What yeast are you using?”

Tooyama grinned.

“I do not know what this yeast is, but what I mix into the dough is the lees discarded by liquor breweries. It is waste, so it was not that difficult to obtain.”

“Where did you learn that method?”

“…It was the method of a stubborn old man from my tribe. He taught it to me once before I left my homeland. A senile old man who had lived since the Great War era. He said he was taught it by a certain Lizardonian during the war. When I tried making it as he said, it turned out softer than Empire bread and without any sourness.”

“Bingo, yeast bread. I see. That’s why that bread back then tasted normally good. Lazaar, make it again for me. We’re about to get a house soon. I’ll prepare a stone oven too.”

“…Yes, gladly.”

At Tooyama’s words, Lazaar softly closed his eyes. His eyelids closed as if recalling, or perhaps embracing, something precious.

“This? Laaaazaaar?”

The large dog barked.

Before he knew it, Stolu was glaring at Lazaar from point-blank range.

“Ah, crap. I forgot about this one.”

Damn it. Tooyama pressed a finger between his eyebrows.

He realized his mistake in casually talking about something outside Church rules in front of a justice idiot.

“Tooyama, you too. I cannot overlook those words just now. To my ears, it sounded as though you people were making bread through methods other than those specified by the Church.”

Stolu continued pressing her face close to Lazaar at zero distance. Lazaar had apparently decided to ignore her by burying his face in the table.

“Wow, that’s so rough.”

She looked like someone bothering a guy sleeping in class. Unforgivable.

As Tooyama was thinking something rather carefree,

“…Tooyama, despite being recognized by the Bishop as a member of the Inquisition, do you intend to defy Church law?”

In an instant, Stolu’s expression vanished from her face.

Ah. Tooyama felt slightly irritated.

It was that face. The face Stolu had shown when she and Tooyama fought to the death.

The face of Stolu as the “First Knight,” the sword of the Angel Church.

“…Hih.”

Luca let out a small, strained scream. Even so, he moved into a position as though to protect Rida.

“S-Stolu-chan, c-calm down, okay? Fighting is no good.”

Niko fearfully called out to Stolu.

However, Stolu only glanced at that voice and gave no reply.

“…Tooyama, I am here for my justice, for the Church’s justice. If you oppose that…”

This was already a curse.

Stolu Pula was still trapped by it after all.

The sword of the Church. The distortion born from being raised and pruned to be exactly that was no longer something that could be cured.

“The Church’s justice, huh.”

Tooyama stared fixedly at Stolu.

If she attacked, he would probably lose. Without tricks, in a head-on death match, there was no way to defeat this knight.

“Yes. That is my role. If you oppose it, no, if you do not even intend to uphold it…”

The light had already vanished from her light-blue eyes. They were the eyes of a killer, no, a sword. A tool had no need for intelligence or heart, after all.

“What happens then, Stolu?”

However, Tooyama was not someone who would be frightened by that at this point.

One who feared a blade more than necessary had no qualification to wield a sword.

“…I do not want to say it.”

The blade wavered slightly, perhaps because of the memories from these past few days.

Kill, eat, sleep. Her lifestyle was no different from Stolu’s time as a knight, yet even so, it must have been somehow different.

Kill, eat, sleep, laugh, get angry, and laugh again.

Within her life as an attendant to an inquisitor, however, there had been such colors. They had become rust that slightly warped the sword.

Tooyama did not overlook that.

“Stupid brat. You’re misunderstanding one thing.”

“…This?”

“Stolu Pula, right now, you are not the Church’s sword. What you should protect is not supposed to be the Church’s justice. To begin with, right now you are not Stolu Pula, First Knight of the Angel Church Knight Order, are you?”

Without showing fear or agitation, Tooyama spoke to Stolu.

“…Eh?”

“Haah. Did you seriously forget? Or were you brainwashed? No, are you just stupid? Stolu, listen carefully. You are not the Church’s sword. You failed to fulfill your role as a sword, and the Bishop handed down a punishment to you, didn’t she?”

“Ah.”

Stolu’s mouth fell open.

Tooyama used his words skillfully.

There was one trick to using weapons well. Understand their traits and respect them.

“Put that teaspoon-sized brain of yours to work. What punishment did that money-grubber, the supreme leader of the Angel Church, hand down to you?”

“…Expulsion from the Knight Order, and indefinite service activity to the inquisitor, Tooyama Naruhito…”

Blankly, Stolu let the words out from her throat. They were faint words.

“Exactly. Stolu, I’ll say this as many times as I need to. You are neither the Church’s sword nor the First Knight.”

Tooyama leaned forward from his seat and grabbed the bread on the table.

“Mmph?!”

He shoved the bread into Stolu’s gaping mouth and grabbed her by the chest. He forcibly pulled her small body toward him.

With a clack, he pressed forehead to forehead and threw his words at the tip of her nose from almost zero distance.

“You are my sword. I am your master. Your justice is not the Church. It is me.”

Those were words of greed, through and through.

They were the very sin of greed that painted over and replaced what a person relied upon.

“—Ah.”

Whether curing Stolu Pula’s distortion or pitying her way of being, Tooyama did not care about any of that.

There was only one thing. Tooyama’s desire demanded a new role from Stolu, the Church’s sword.

“Be useful to me, Knight Stolu.”

“—?! Mmph, mmgogogogo! Gulp! Wha, ah, ah.”

With their faces pressed together, Tooyama shouted. Stolu somehow swallowed the bread while her eyes spun.

In her light-blue eyes, his Tibetan fox face was reflected at a size that seemed to fill them.

The girl’s egg-like skin, her cheeks, turned red—

“Your answer?! Look at Niko, Luca, and Rida’s faces. All three of them are scared because you pointlessly let out killing intent! Don’t casually press your justice switch!”

As a matter of course, Tooyama did not notice Stolu’s change. Still grabbing her by the chest, he shook Stolu back and forth while shouting at her.

“Ah, u, uu, I, under, stand.”

“Huh?! I can’t hear you! Speak clearly in that idiot voice of yours like always!”

“Ah! I-I understand! I understand, so! Your face, your face is too close!”

Thud!

Stolu pushed both hands out and shoved Tooyama’s chest.

Her strength was indeed powerful. At the same time as a sensation similar to the moment a roller coaster dropped, Tooyama was blown backward.

“Gweh!! …This brat pushed an adult away. Did you really understand?”

Being able to properly break his fall was probably the result of daily life as an Explorer, and now as an adventurer. While brushing dust from his robe, Tooyama glared at Stolu.

“Y-Yes, I understand, this. …I am your sword. That is fine, right…”

The killing intent visibly faded from Stolu.

Tooyama, who had secretly been a little flustered, broke into a cold sweat down his back, but did not let it show at all.

“Good, as long as you understand. However, as you said, I don’t want to do something like openly breaking the Church’s rules either. In this country, the Angel Church’s power and influence are way too big.”

“…This?”

“Ah, in other words, it won’t become the kind of thing you’re worried about. I don’t intend to deny your justice, and I won’t laugh at your values. It won’t become something that offends the sword.”

“…I do not really understand what you are saying… this.”

“You’ll understand eventually. Niko, are you okay? Were you scared?”

Tooyama hurried to care for the children.

Stolu had also blended in quite a bit, and the children had accepted that, but even so, what had just happened must have hit them hard.

“…No, thank you, big brother. I’m okay. Stolu-chan is my friend. She just has parts where she’s a little too energetic.”

However, contrary to Tooyama’s worry, Niko smiled. It was an adult’s face, one meant to avoid making him worry.

“Oh no, her capacity is amazing…”

Tooyama unconsciously placed a hand over his mouth in awe.

“N-Niko-chan…”

Only now did Stolu begin panicking. It was the face of a large dog after causing trouble, spinning around as if saying, Um, this is different, different.

“Stolu-chan.”

“Yes… this.”

“I was hurt earlier. You, my friend, ignored me. …Stolu-chan, do you hate me?”

“Wha?! Th-There is no way I could! Niko-chan is my first friend! Ah, no, um, just now…”

“Hehe! Stolu-chan, I’m happy! I also think of you as an important friend! But listen, it’s not good to get ready to fight before listening properly, like you did earlier. You are a very serious and righteous person, but that part is no good.”

“…Yes, this.”

“What do you think you should do when you realize you did something bad?”

“I-I am sorry. I am sorry, this… I am sorry for ignoring you.”

“Mm! Then me too! I’m sorry for talking to you so arrogantly like this. Hehe, now we’re even! Stolu-chan.”

Niko tightly held Stolu’s hand.

It was completely different from a certain someone grabbing her by the chest and shaking her around.

“N-Niko-chaaaan!!”

Stolu burst into tears and hugged Niko.

“Kya?! Hehe, honestly, Stolu-chan, you’re older than me, right? You mustn’t cry.”

Niko was surprised for an instant and jolted, but slowly, Niko also hugged Stolu.

“Hey, look, Lazaar-kun. Our Niko-chan’s humanity is terrifying.”

“Yes, indeed. There are things we should learn from her.”

“Big brother, could you sit down for a moment?”

“Hmm? Me?”

After finishing soothing Stolu, Niko quietly approached Tooyama.

Tooyama crouched and brought his eyes level with Niko’s.

“You too, big brother. I am very happy that you face us honestly. You face me, Rida, Luca, Pero, and Shiro properly as individual people. That makes us very, very happy.”

“Ah, yes.”

Tooyama nodded blankly.

Niko smiled softly, brought her lips near Tooyama’s ear,

and whispered. So that only Tooyama and Niko could hear.

“But listen, big brother, you should study a little more about a woman’s heart. Otherwise, something terrible might happen someday.”

Her cherry-colored lips spun a quiet whisper.

“Eh? Niko? No, Niko-san? What does that mean?!”

Tooyama unintentionally added -san, but Niko only clasped her hands behind her back and smiled mischievously.

“Think about that yourself. Okay! The fight is over! So what are our plans after this? I would be very happy if we continued our outing together!”

Niko smiled. Trot, trot, she returned to the area near her own seat.

He had been completely surpassed. In terms of humanity, Tooyama felt a sense of defeat before Niko.

“Lazaar, is the guardian position maybe in danger?”

“…The right person in the right place, I suppose?”

Lazaar’s blunt words. However, they were true.

Tooyama sighed. Niko noticed his gaze and winked.

She’ll make men cry in the future. Tooyama nodded to himself with the face of a full-blown guardian.

“Hey, hey, hey! You lot at that seat! You bastards with only a Lizardonian and brats! You’ve been making a damn racket!”

Crash!

A tactless sound, and vulgar shouting.

What came flying was a plate with food still on it.

“Kya?!”

It was thrown at Niko’s feet.

The hem of the long skirt Tooyama and Lazaar had bought for her was dirtied by filthy leftovers.

“You’re making my food taste bad! This is an adventure city. It’s not a place for brats to be chattering and squealing. Shut up!”

“There’s even a filthy Lizardonian here! Seriously ruins the meal. Hey, because of you, I can’t eat today anymore. What are you going to do about that?”

“Yeah, that means compensation, right? Come on, money. Pay up. If you don’t want to, hand over those brats. I was just wanting some lively adventurer slaves.”

“Hey, show your faces outside, you lot. Leave the brats behind.”

One after another, those things picked a fight with Tooyama and the others.

A Lizardonian and children who laughed often. Ah, just that had apparently made them stand out in a bad way.

Those guys were always looking for people who seemed weaker than themselves.

Gyahahahaha.

Vulgar laughter. Armed humans flashing weapons. A group of adventurers laughed.

One after another, tactlessly, they approached as though surrounding Tooyama’s group’s seats. With similar faces and similar smiles.

“Hey, don’t ignore us. Huh? Or are you too scared to speak?”

“Oh, that freckled brat. She’s got a nice body…”

“Gyahaha! Your taste really never changes! The other day in the pleasure district, you played around with one until she was a wreck and then threw her away, didn’t you?”

This was the irrationality of the adventure city. The existence of the necessary evil known as adventurers.

“Adventurers,” a violence mechanism necessary to society, were naturally hot-blooded due to their profession, and many had personality problems.

That tendency was strong among the lower and middle ranks.

What happened when half-baked people obtained half-baked power was already decided. And the Guild was still in the middle of organizational reform, while the mechanism to regulate adventurer behavior was not functioning.

That was why things like this happened. To them, it was violence done half for fun, but those who had it directed at them awaited only suffering and tragedy.

In this city, irrationality existed as if it were natural.

At times, it would easily warp a person’s life.

Tiny hopes that only wished for tomorrow, and small dreams that only desired a gentle everyday life, were equally stolen away by violence.

Such irrationality could be found anywhere in this city. An equal number of tragedies also existed.

When powerless people were struck by irrationality, they had no choice but to endure it or accept it.

That was reality, a cruel truth present in any world.

Powerless people could do nothing against irrationality.

However, they were—

“““Huh?”””

Former Angel Church Knight Order, finest knight, “First Knight.”

Former royal covert operative, “Shadow Fang.”

Former high-ranking explorer, “Dragon Slayer.”

When someone laid hands on their own, their boiling points were extremely low, and as for what they would do against irrationality, the answer had already been decided.