Chapter 65: Parting Ways
Two hours after nightfall is the prime time in the small town.
Inside a two-story stone house with a chimney spewing black smoke, it was crowded. People were constantly pushing open the noisy wooden door and going in and out, bringing the tavern’s clamor onto the street.
"You didn’t see it, even though my weapon dropped, I just backhanded the kobold’s head straight off!" The Half-Beastman Warrior bragged about his strength to the others at the table, spittle flying in the lamplight.
The noise from spilled drinks, crude hand games, and the waiter loudly calling for customers to clear the way.
Drunken mutterings, off-key raspy singing, explosive arguments, and soft conspiracies all spiraled and intertwined above the tavern, forming a noisy yet oddly harmonious undertone.
In the corner, the Bard’s music still stubbornly struggled to make itself heard amidst the cacophony.
The strong, slightly sour smell of ale floated in the air, mixed with the aroma of grilled sausages and roast meat, whetting appetites while also making one feel slightly tipsy from the alcohol-filled air.
The Night Owl Squad gathered in the tavern, the wall alcove’s oil lamp cast a warm yellow glow on their faces.
Sitting on wooden chairs, resting their chins while observing the tavern’s environment, each one showed a rare sense of leisure and relaxation.
An adventurer might find such a noisy environment uncomfortable upon their first visit, but after coming here a few times, they would quickly relax in this raw, vibrant atmosphere.
A group of Bottom Adventurers, licking blood off their blades, gathered together, numbing themselves with alcohol and food. It’s neither dignified nor elegant, but it’s a unique vitality of edge life adventurers, like the resilience and wildness of wild grass.
"Speaking of, this is our first dinner since Gauss joined the team," Levin lifted his large wooden cup, taking a sip of foamy ale.
Gauss thought about it, and it truly was. It had been almost a month since he joined the team, and after finishing tasks, everyone often wanted to quickly disband and rest due to fatigue and dirt.
This time, however, having just completed the goblin task, the distance was short and didn’t require much effort, so everyone was in good spirits.
Invited by Levin, everyone took a bath and gathered for a meal in the tavern.
"Gauss, would you like some alcohol?" Levin noticed Gauss’s empty cup.
Gauss initially wanted to refuse out of habit, but seeing everyone else’s cups, including the two female members, filled with ale, he swallowed his words.
"I’ll give it a try then." He wasn’t completely abstinent; he would occasionally drink a small glass of red wine before sleeping in his past life.
But he hadn’t tried this world’s cheap ale. Every time he smelled it, there was a suspicious sour scent, yet other patrons seemed to enjoy it; perhaps that was its original flavor.
Levin filled Gauss’s cup halfway.
Gauss sniffed it; a strong, stale grain fermentation sour smell hit his nose, like old wet oatmeal or sour rice.
Without the malt aroma from the beer in his past life, there was only rough and primitive fermentation aroma.
He carefully took a sip.
"Sour!"
His taste buds were immediately assaulted by a sharp sour taste, followed by an abrupt alcohol sensation and a lingering aftertaste in his throat.
Is this really tasty?
"Cough, cough!" Gauss couldn’t help but cough a few times, his face reddening.
Seeing his dramatic reaction, others at the table couldn’t help but laugh.
They were used to seeing Gauss slicing through enemies in battle, so his embarrassment was new and entertaining.
"I guessed it, Levin, I knew Gauss couldn’t handle alcohol!" Daphne gulped some ale and winked at Levin.
"Gauss, are you even normal? I’ve been drinking like water since I was little," Doyle laughed heartily, feeling a bit smug finally having bested Gauss.
"Of course I can drink, just not used to alcohol here." Gauss defended himself.
"What’s ’here’s alcohol;’ isn’t this the most ordinary drink?"
Archer Oliver looked at Gauss suspiciously.
"Speaking of, your backstory is probably made up, huh? You’re acting like you’ve never drank ale before."
"..."
Gauss fell silent, seemingly unable to explain.
In this world, alcohol culture was prevalent; many started drinking young, even treating low-alcohol drinks as drinking water without a second thought.
This cheap ale is something almost every civilian has tried, except for the anomaly, Gauss.
Guessing the "truth," the others saw his reluctance to discuss further with good humor and tactfully changed the subject.
After all, Gauss, who seemed to have come from a prominent background, was now "reduced" to mingling with them, suggesting some major setback he must’ve faced.
...
When Gauss climbed from his familiar straw bed, it was already the next day.
He shook his head, feeling his body still slightly heavy.
Recalling last night, he shook his head.
That’s too much chaos.
They drank and ate until late night, before parting ways, when Doyle noticed someone teasing Daphne, a scuffle broke out at the tavern door.
The Night Owl Squad didn’t hold back, quickly overpowering the other party, fleeing hurriedly before the patrol guards arrived.
In the end, Gauss had to carry the unconscious Doyle back to his place.
Gauss smiled.
He felt increasingly integrated into this world.
First venture into the wilderness, first monster kill, first commission, first team-up, first drink of cheap ale, first brawl...
Strictly speaking, he didn’t dislike such experiences; various "firsts" rarely experienced in his past life made him genuinely feel alive.
"Want some hangover soup?"
Coming to the ground floor hall, Sofia glanced at Gauss descending the stairs after delivering breakfast.
"By the way, there’s a charge for it."
"Sofia, can’t it be free? We’ve become so familiar, after all."
"Of course not, I paid for it too, and a businessperson can’t always do charity, eh." Sofia turned to the kitchen to serve the soup.
Gauss joked, but felt a warmth inside.
He knew Sofia likely prepared the hangover soup specifically for him noticing his drunken state last night.
After a little hangover soup, Gauss felt slightly better.
Sitting by the counter, watching other guests dine in the hall, he fell into contemplation again.
While last night’s gathering was enjoyable, during the later conversation, he understood the implied message Levin and others wanted to convey.
Levin didn’t explicitly state it, speaking subtly, yet Gauss wasn’t so emotionally unintelligent not to grasp it.
He realized, due to his presence, others’ recent tasks seemingly lacked any meaningful challenges or growth opportunities.
If others were around forty, having entirely lost their dreams just adventuring to earn money, they’d be glad to have such a strong teammate.
However, clearly, none of them were like that.