The sunrise had much less of an impact on Matt than the sunset had. He might have felt a little more alert than he had been before watching it, but if so, it was a mild effect and thoroughly washed out by something he had found upon a closer inspection of his camping pack. Deep in one of the interior pockets of the bag, he excavated little packets of what looked for all the world like instant coffee.

“Really? You are that excited over this stuff?” Lucy rolled her eyes as Matt rocked back and forth, eagerly waiting for a mug of water to heat up over a fire. “I figured the whole addicted-to-coffee thing was a meme, like that time the whole internet got way too into bacon for a couple of months.”

“Nope. It’s a real thing. This might not even be real coffee, and I’m still excited about it. Even if it is real coffee, it’s instant coffee, which is the absolute worst, and I’m still excited for it.”

“Weird, but okay. Knock yourself out.”

The resulting drink wasn’t entirely coffee as Matt knew it, but it was close enough to seem like coffee, which was the main thing. Better yet, either the real coffee on this world was absolutely incredible in every way, or their instant coffee didn’t suck nearly as bad as Earth’s. Between the better than expected quality and the closer than expected experience, Matt ended up with a cup of something that got really, really close to hitting the spot.

What he didn’t bank on was that after so long without a single drop of caffeine, the drink would hit like a freight train. He had kind of expected his VIT score to cancel what was technically probably a poison, but it either didn’t see things the same way or the Eat Anything! aspect of Palate of the Conqueror amplified what he got out of the coffee.

Either way, he was wired.

“Matt, I’m serious. If you are going to be like this every morning, you can’t have the coffee anymore. We have to work together. That means respect. This doesn’t make that easy.”

Matt’s eyes panned back and forth as his caffeine-driven hyper-awareness had him scanning every last bit of the horizon, and was walking a bit faster than usual, but he was pretty sure that Lucy was exaggerating.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m fine. It’s not always like this, either. I’ll get used to it. That’s actually bad. I feel incredible. I could jump the moon if this planet had a moon, which it might, and I might just not have seen it yet. Have you seen anything down the road? I’ve been looking, but I haven’t. I guess this road might go on forever without there being anything to see, but I can’t see why there’d even be a road then and who would even maintain it…”

“Matt, I’m serious. Stop talking. Just go back to walking way too fast and looking around like you think you are checking for the police during a drug deal. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

It was a few hours before Matt was normal again. Luckily, it turned out VIT did kick in to minimize the post-coffee crash.

—

It was a light day for monsters, apparently. Even in Matt’s coffee-driven paranoia state, he hadn’t seen a single bird, beast, or insect that might threaten him. This, in turn, meant he was incredibly bored by midday. Lucy was right there with him.

“Is there a rule that the system has to plop you in the middle of stupid red wastelands, Matt? I mean you in particular. Because I’m pretty sure not every single adventurer spends all their time bored in places that look like shitty, flat, generic-brand Sedonas.”

“I’m starting to think you spend entirely too much time in your Earth information database. Sedona is like the fifth-best tourist attraction in a bottom-twenty state. How much time do you even spend reading that thing?”

“Lots, Matt. What else do you expect me to do while you sleep? I’ve read pages on every country. Every state. I’ve looked at pictures. I know the plot of every Megaman game. If you don’t like it, stop going to sleep all the time.”

She had a point. Matt dropped the matter. It was fortunate for both of them, however, that this was about the time they saw the tavern.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Matt had a long list of Isekai protagonist experiences he felt cheated out of. Near the top of that list was not getting to go to any magical roadside taverns. While it was true that in most manga, they were often traps of some kind. But the off chance when they weren’t? You’d eat giant slabs of meat, drink beer at a big wooden table, and then some surprisingly weak jackass would make just enough trouble for you that you had an excuse to uppercut him through the door. It was a big deal, and one that Matt had never really forgiven the system for denying him.

But here one was, right in front of him, built with wood, bricks, and little four-pane windows.

“I promise I’m going to be very careful, but I have to go in there.”

“Oh, no, you aren’t going to be careful. You are going to do something very dumb and almost get killed. I flat-out guarantee it.”

“Lucy…”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t go in there. You are absolutely going into the manga tavern. You just have to promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If the spoiled son of the town’s mayor gives you shit, you have to drop-kick him through a door.”

With Lucy with him on the absolutely correct trope page, Matt wasn’t going to waste any more time. He walked directly to the building and threw open the door. Inside, a rowdy scene greeted him. There were working men, like miners and carpenters. There were adventurer types. The barmaids were all friendly and sassy. It was everything. There was everyone. Matt was beside himself.

He introduced himself around while carefully avoiding any details of why he was actually there. With his simple clothes, his heavy boots, and his shovel, he was almost immediately mistaken for some kind of working man, and effortlessly fell in with that clique. When they found he didn’t have any money on him, they bought him drinks. They laughed and told jokes. It turned out the bratty mayor’s son-type wasn't in the script, but someone else took his place. Half-fueled by the beer, Matt knocked him out a window with a big wooden bench.

It was perfect. Matt was halfway through a game called spikeys that was sort of like darts if darts was played by hurling foot-long daggers at a log hanging from a rope when he suddenly heard a loud call from behind the bar. Looking over, he immediately traced the sound to the huge, happy man who owned the entire place.

“Alright everyone, that’s it for today. Revert!”

All around him, everyone froze for a moment. Suddenly, the man closest to him turned into a big puff of smoke with a mild pop sound. When the smoke cleared, the former beer-gutted bricklayer Matt had been joking around with all night had been replaced by what looked like a bipedal griffin. Over the next several seconds, more and more of the people in the bar transformed, until Matt was almost entirely surrounded by snake-men, bird-ladies and a number of animal-human hybrids he couldn’t immediately identify.

“Shit! Matt, I’m sorry. None of these tagged as monsters until they transformed back. I had no idea. Just… play it cool, alright? Maybe we can sneak out.”

The bar’s owner, who was now an equally massive wolf man, began talking again. “This was an exceptionally good effort from each and every one of you. Trickery is often a forgotten tactic among the demon-kind, and I know there’s a temptation to ignore it in favor of more combat-oriented solutions to problems. I’m glad to see that’s not true for any of you. There are always situations where trickery is the better option. The weaker can use it to get the strong to let their guards down and find an advantage that can be exploited. The strong can use it to get information that even torture wouldn’t obtain.”

He pointed at a large red creature with dangerous-looking claws for arms. “You. Why do we emphasize taverns in our practice?”

“Because humans go to taverns to talk.”

“That’s one reason, yes. More specifically, humans brag in taverns. A human in a tavern, especially one who has consumed several of their alcoholic beverages, will casually tell secrets in a bar to absolute strangers that he would even withhold from his own mate. Now… you.” He pointed to a small fox-like creature. “What’s another reason we emphasize taverns?”

The fox looked uncomfortable, and stuttered a bit before appearing to think of a plausible sounding answer. “Because they are public?”

“Absolutely. Humans are innately defensive in their homes, and even if they allowed you access to their houses, they would become suspicious if you began asking probing questions. Taverns are public places. Travelers visit them, and travelers are expected to ask questions; it would almost be odder if they didn’t.”

Besides Matt, the Griffin nudged him. “Hey, you forgot to change forms.”

Matt nodded, trying to appear confident. “Yeah, I just want to see what he says first. I’ve heard there’s sometimes a sort of trick question he pulls that’s easier to answer if you have the human form as a reference.”

It was a stretch, but the Griffin-man seemed to accept it. But enough nearby beasts seemed to hear the response that they now turned their attention to him, if for no other reason than to see how well he did with the supposed trick question. Any thought he had of just slipping out the back evaporated.

At the bar, the owner-wolf continued. “Again, you all did a great job today. But one of you was a cut above, not only in terms of what he said, but how he said it. He nailed human mannerisms in a way that I can only applaud.” The wolf man scanned the crowd, as if looking for something, before locking in on Matt.

“You, there. Still in your human form, I see. Well, very well. I’ll overlook it, since you did such a fine job. Maintain your disguise, and please make your way to the front. I’d like to use you as an example, to further the learning of the other students. No, don’t be shy. Come right up.”