Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 1 (light novel) Page 8

  My accommodations were smallish and simple, about seventy-five square feet with a bed, a small personal table, and a chair. I asked Yuni if I was allowed to rinse off here, but she said the inn preferred all bathing to be done outside, lest the rooms get humid or musty.

  Made sense, I guess.

  All my purchases from the day were laid out on the bed, so I picked out a change of clothes and some bathing supplies and headed back downstairs.

  As I left my room, I saw the group from before being led into theirs by Martha. The two men were sharing the same room, while the woman got her own accommodations. So she wasn’t married to either of them, huh?

  Following Yuni’s directions, I went out through a wooden door into the rear garden, which was about 130 square feet around. The water well wasn’t far from the door. Rather than a pump, it utilized an old-fashioned bucket system.

  Unfortunately, the only thing separating the rear garden from the small adjacent side street was a short little hedge. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, but the occasional person still passed by, and I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of being on display as I bathed.

  Looking around, I noticed a partition screen over by the door. Oh, so I use this? I set up the screen to shield my body from the street and started to bathe in the cold well water. The partition was only about as high as my waist, but it would suffice for cover.

  I rinsed the dust and grit out of my hair, then washed my body with the soap I’d bought. It smelled surprisingly nice and felt gentle on the skin (or was that just because I had high stamina?).

  I was starting to wish I had some shampoo, but I’d have to make do with soap. It didn’t really foam up, but it seemed to clean well enough. I was used to shampoo, so this might have been the first time I’d ever washed my hair with soap.

  I heard a creak behind me and turned my head. The back door had opened, and a woman was coming out. It was the female guest from before.

  Our eyes met. She gave me a light nod, then began drawing water from the well. Huh? Paying no mind to the fact that there was a nearly naked dude bathing right nearby, she calmly pulled up the rope. It didn’t seem like she was disguising her embarrassment, either—she was just totally ignoring me.

  When the woman finished pouring water into the washbasin, she set up a partition, took off her clothes, and started bathing.

  Huh?

  Are you for real? Have you no restraint?!

  There was a partition between us, but…but still…!

  Every time she moved, something—well, two things, which were presumably D cups—asserted their presence with a distinct jiggle. Of course, she was covering the key areas with her hands, but every once in a while…

  No, no, I had to stop! I wasn’t some virgin who’d never seen a naked lady before! I forcibly reined in my gaze and went back to my own washing up. Come on, lower half! Stay calm!

  But when I glanced back at the woman out of the corner of my eye, she was smirking at me!

  Yep, adult women really are the best!!

  …Though, according to the AR, she’s a bit younger than me.

  She certainly was a sight for sore eyes, but since I was done bathing, it was going to look pretty suspect if I continued hanging around for much longer. I quickly dried myself off with my towel, but… Where do I throw away the bathwater? There aren’t any drains or anything, are there?

  “You can toss out your water in the shrubbery. I believe there’s a drainage system underneath.”

  The woman solved my dilemma, possibly out of pity for my bizarre behavior. I thanked her, took care of the water, and returned to my room.

  You’ll have to forgive me for sneaking one last look as I went back inside. A man’s instincts are a powerful thing.

  When I got back to my room, I changed into the tasteful light-brown robe I’d purchased earlier that day. I’d already changed into new undergarments right after I bathed. It was only at this point when I noticed I’d forgotten to buy socks.

  I didn’t want my feet to get smelly, so I changed into sandals. Ahh…that was better. I usually wore slippers when working, so wearing shoes for such a long time was getting uncomfortable.

  A tantalizing smell wafted up from downstairs, announcing it was dinnertime.

  I wanted to go to the bathroom before eating. Instead of having one for each room, the inn had just one common bathroom. The toilet was of the old-fashioned pit-latrine variety. I had never seen one in person, not even at my grandfather’s home in the countryside. I guess this was typical fantasy, too, in a way.

  Not that I was very happy about it.

  After I was through with business, I looked for toilet paper, but of course there was none to be found. I’d gotten my hopes up, since the hotel register had been made with paper, but I guess that was a luxury.

  Looking around, I found a bundle of thin straw within arm’s length. Am I supposed to use this?! I didn’t want to chafe my bottom, so I tore off a piece of one of the towels I’d bought and used that. It might be a little wasteful, but now wasn’t the time to be thrifty.

  This had certainly been a baptism by fire in the ways of this new culture, but all things considered, it was really clean, so I’d be all right using it again.

  The barroom on the first floor was enveloped in delicious smells and raucous chatter.

  It was a little dark, but a number of lanterns hung from the ceiling and posts to illuminate the room, which upped the fantasy factor significantly. Very nice!

  “Oh, Mr. Satou!” Martha greeted me as she bustled about among tables, carrying trays of food. “I was just wondering if I should go get you.” She motioned me toward an empty seat.

  “Thank you. I’ll take whatever you’d recommend for dinner, please.”

  “Well, you’re in luck! A huntsman just brought in some wild boar today, so I definitely suggest the wild boar steak. It might be a bit expensive, but it’s well worth the price!”

  “Yeah, the boar’s fantastic! You’ll regret it if you don’t give it a try, son!”

  It seemed that the meat was responsible for so many customers being there; even the drunks were trying to convince me to order it. They needn’t have bothered, though—my stomach was on board the moment it heard the word steak.

  “I’ll take the wild boar with some sort of vegetables, then, please.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “Tea or fruit juice, or milk if you don’t have those.”

  “Huh? All we’ve got is booze and water.”

  Right. I guess this is a bar. Well, I don’t want to mess up my stomach with unboiled water…

  “Then something that’s light and easy to drink, please.”

  “Want some hard cider diluted with water, then? Or if you don’t mind spending a little more, watered-down mead or wine would probably taste better.”

  Hard cider was basically fermented apple cider, right? Like wine, it could go sour easily if not preserved carefully. But mead was honey-based and a staple of fantasy works besides. Come to think of it, I’d probably never had it before.

  “I’ll have mead, then.”

  “You got it! Okay, I’ll go put in your order right away. Sit tight!”

  Martha headed to the kitchen, nimbly dodging with practiced ease the drunkards who tried to touch her bottom as she passed. Why were there so many pervs here, wanting to grope a middle schooler…?

  While I waited for my food, I casually scanned the bar. Men in merchants’ robes and neatly kept tunics were cheerfully picking away at their food and drinking some kind of light-looking beer. Ale maybe?

  Something about the patrons seemed off, though.

  Hmm… What was it? From a cursory glance, the tavern was indistinguishable from a classic fantasy-movie set.

  Oh! It was the tobacco.

  There were no ashtrays on the tables, nobody puffing out smoke. Only steam rising from the hot food.

  Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen anyone with cigarettes or pipes out shopping, either.
Had tobacco not reached this country?

  This was perfect for a firm nonsmoker like me, but a chain-smoker like Mr. Tubs would throw in the towel after three days, no doubt about it.

  Martha returned with a steaming-hot steak on her tray.

  “Thanks for waiting!”

  “Wow, that looks delicious.” I wasn’t just being complimentary—it really did look great. This one meal alone was worth the price of three days’ stay at the inn.

  On the main plate, a wild boar steak cut into thick cubes was accompanied by white piles that looked like mashed potatoes. Finely chopped basil and fried slices of garlic topped the steak, enhancing the smell of sizzling fat as it piqued my appetite.

  Beside the plate was a deep dish filled with soup that was probably consommé. Little cubes of four different kinds of vegetables were at the bottom of the bowl—orange, red, green, and yellow. Judging by the bright colors, I had no doubt they’d taste as good as they looked.

  The mead arrived nearly overflowing from a big bisque tankard. Beside it, a basket contained inch-thick slices of rye bread. At last, glorious rye bread—the staple food of all fantasy—would be mine for the eating!

  “Eat up before it gets cold!” Martha admonished me before going back to her work, sounding amused at how I was savoring the food with my eyes.

  All right, guess I’ll start with the vegetable soup. There was a tiny bit of resistance as I sank the large wooden spoon into the soup; clearly it was pretty thick. I scooped some of the fresh vegetables onto the spoon and brought it to my mouth.

  Just as I’d expected from its appearance, the soup tasted like consommé. The ingredients had been cooked perfectly—the vegetables broke apart with a single bite, their rich flavors filling my mouth. When I swallowed the thick broth, warmth spread through my stomach. This must be a really popular dish in the winter.

  Next up was the main course: the steak. I jabbed my fork into a piece and took a bite.

  When I’d tried boar before, it had an off-puttingly funky taste, but this meat was different. There wasn’t much fat, and it was a tiny bit tough, but once I chewed it a little, my mouth filled with a hearty, rustic flavor that was nothing like beef.

  Before the taste left my mouth, I took a bite of the rye bread. It was a little hard, but not as much as I’d been told. Just enough to make a fun crunching sound as I chewed.

  It was slightly sour, but when paired with the meat, it mixed with the rich flavor of boar for an absolutely delicious combination. It was so good that I found myself reaching for the next bite before I was even done chewing.

  Everything was delicious. I was pleased that this country seemed to have a lot of good food. It’d be fun to take a gourmet tour of the Shiga Kingdom.

  When I had finished the full pound or so of steak, I remembered my mead and took a big gulp. It was a honeyed yellow alcoholic beverage. I had expected a similar taste and thickness to honey, but since it was diluted and all, it was smooth and easy to drink. Overall, it wasn’t nearly as intense as I’d expected.

  As I was licking my lips and savoring the taste of the mead, Martha returned. “Oh my, did you eat it all already?”

  “Yeah, it was delicious.”

  “Well, we still have more, so would you like some bone-in meat or fried cartilage or something like that to go with your drink?”

  Hmm… There’s still some room left in my stomach, so maybe I’ll give it a try.

  “That would be great, thanks. Could I have another round of mead, too, please?”

  “Sure! Just a minute.”

  I watched Martha go back to the kitchen and sipped on the last of my mead, surveying the restaurant again. At that moment, my eyes fell on the woman I’d seen by the water well earlier, standing idly in the doorway and looking a little nonplussed. I guess the room had filled up without my noticing, since she seemed to be trying to spot an empty seat. Maybe she was looking for the two men she’d arrived with?

  Her eyes met mine, and she smiled and came over to my table.

  “Pardon me, but would you mind terribly if I sat here?”

  “Go right ahead.” There was no way I could turn down sharing a table with a beautiful woman. I was a little embarrassed after what happened at the bath, but I did my best not to let it show.

  > Skill Acquired: “Poker Face”

  When the message popped up in the log in the corner of my vision, I funneled points into the new skill with record-breaking speed.

  Noticing the newcomer to my table, Martha came over to get her order. She must have failed to see the woman looking for a seat before because she’d been relaying my order to the kitchen.

  “I’ll pass on the meat, thank you. Just the soup and rye bread for me. I’ll have an ale, too, if you please.”

  “Sure, I’ll be right back with it.”

  Martha’s hard sell on the boar steak didn’t seem to have worked on the woman, presumably a vegetarian, so she looked a little dejected as she went back to the kitchen.

  “The barroom’s awfully busy, considering the inn’s so low on guests,” I commented as Martha returned with the lovely woman’s food and ale.

  “That’s true. But now that I’ve tasted how delicious the food is, I can understand why.”

  “Eh-heh-heh! Thank you! I’ll tell my father that later.”

  She seemed pleased by my compliment. Apparently, the cook was her father.

  “Mr. Satou, your food’s going to be just a little longer, so you can eat this while you wait if you’d like.” She placed in front of me a small plate of what looked like the sauerkraut I’d eaten that afternoon, saying it was on the house.

  The woman murmured a “pardon me” and started to eat. I watched as she dipped the rye bread into the vegetable soup, scooping it up to her mouth.

  Oh, is that how you’re meant to eat it?

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to stare. I just didn’t know you were supposed to eat the bread like that.”

  I guess my “Poker Face” skill couldn’t disguise the fact that I was staring at someone.

  “Ah, are you from the royal capital or the formal capital?”

  “No, I’m from a kingdom far from here…”

  Does the food differ depending on the region? And I understand “royal capital,” but what is the “formal capital”?

  “Do they not eat rye bread in the royal capital and the…formal capital?”

  “Well, commoners do eat rye bread there, but I hear that the nobles and wealthy merchants in the royal capital eat white bread. And they say the formal capital’s staple food is a grain called rice, so they don’t eat much bread.”

  Huh… So there’s a city in this kingdom with a rice-based culture? I’ll have to check it out if I start craving rice. Since I normally live off junk food and instant ramen, though, that probably wouldn’t happen a whole lot.

  Oh, maybe I should ask more about this “formal capital.” I asked the woman what it was as she ate her bread-soaked soup.

  “It’s Duke Ougoch’s capital in the south. It was the first capital when the Shiga Kingdom was founded.”

  “Huh! So it’s like the old capital? I’d love to see it someday.”

  “Oh yes. It’s said to be a beautiful city on the bank of a large river.”

  Ooh, that sounds nice. The starry sky reflected in the canals… It would definitely make for a lovely sight.

  “Mr. Satou, your food’s ready! Sorry for the wait.”

  “Oh, this smells great!”

  Five cuts of bone-in meat rested on top of a wave-patterned plate. Were these ribs, maybe? Looking at the other patrons, it seemed like holding it by the bone and gnawing on the meat was the way to go, even if that resulted in a mess of grease getting on your hands and face.

  I pulled out one of the handkerchiefs I’d purchased and placed it on the table for later. If possible, I’d prefer to avoid getting my face all sticky in front of a beautiful woman.

  Obviou
sly, there was no way this meat could’ve been cooked in a pressure cooker, yet it fell off the bone as easily as if it had. Some of the other guests around me seemed to be struggling with theirs, so Martha might have picked out the best pieces for me.

  I wiped my hands with the handkerchief and took another swig of mead. Yeah, this is the best, all right.

  I saw the woman gulp from the corner of my eye. (I wasn’t paying close attention to her, but my line of sight did happen to be around her collarbone at the time.) Maybe she wasn’t a vegetarian at all and had refrained from ordering the meat for financial reasons?

  “You’re welcome to have a piece, if you’d like,” I offered.

  Her face lit up with excitement for a moment, then faltered hesitantly, until her appetite finally won out over her shyness. “Well then, if you don’t mind…,” she murmured, and picked up a small piece.

  Lovely as she might have been, the woman dropped all pretenses as she dug into the bone-in meat. Well, I’m glad she likes it. When she finished eating, she licked her fingers in an undeniably sexy gesture.

  Since she didn’t seem to have a handkerchief, I gently pushed mine across the table toward her. The beauty thanked me and accepted it, wiping her hands clean.

  She still looked a bit hungry, so I offered her more of the meat as we engaged in lively conversation. Apparently, she was from Seiryuu City, but she’d married a merchant and lived in the royal capital until recently. Her husband had passed away, so she’d returned to her hometown. The men who’d come with her to the inn were friends of her husband and had offered to accompany her to Seiryuu City, she explained.

  I ordered more drinks and snacks from Martha, enjoying the woman’s talk of the royal capital.

  Uh, what do I do now?

  We’d been drinking together as the woman relayed tales of the royal capital and her journey to Seiryuu City, but it seemed I’d made two grave miscalculations.

  First, apparently my high level made my tolerance to alcohol quite strong. I’d felt mildly intoxicated when I drank the mead, but it seemed to wear off pretty fast. I’d even picked up an “Alcohol Resistance” skill somewhere along the way. Luckily, perhaps because the mead was watered down, I hadn’t gotten an Alcoholic title or anything like that.