Micah grabbed one of the ten bronze coins that had appeared in his pocket without him noticing and held it up to take a closer look at it. As he flipped it over, Micah noticed that the hourglasses on either side were always the same, no matter how he turned the coin around. One was always just about to run out, and the other looked like it had just been flipped.

However, just because he was busy looking at the coin didn’t mean that Micah missed the glint that flashed through Rego’s eyes.

Micah pocketed the coin and looked at Rego.

“You said there weren’t any ways to use silver coins here, right? That means there’s a way to use the bronze coins?”

Rego looked at Micah with slight surprise.

“Yeah, that’s right. You can buy food and drink for three bronze coins.”

“My treat, then.”

Micah smiled and gestured for Rego to lead the way.

“I appreciate the thought. But you should save your coins. Most people need about five bronze coins just to maintain the pol in their bodies.”

“Bah. So what? Buying two dinners will still leave me with four coins. I can’t not treat you after you’ve helped me so much. Besides, we have to celebrate our friendship!”

Micah flung his arm across Rego’s shoulders and encouraged him to accept his kindness.

“Well, if you insist….”

Rego led Micah to the center of the town. The number of people gradually increased along the way, but most of them were sleeping on the ground or leaning on the houses. However, when they arrived, Micah saw several people actually walking around. Though, none of them seemed as cheery or healthy as Rego. They even avoided the two of them as they walked toward the medieval-looking diner.

The wooden door looked like it was about to fall off its hinges each time it swung open. Though it also looked like it would fall apart before that happened. Surprisingly, the large cottage seemed to be in a significantly better state than the door. At least on the outside. The inside was a little worse for wear.

There were sticky and worn floorboards, rickety chairs and tables, and a poorly lit dining area. But the bar was polished clean and looked quite promising. It would have been even better if the chairs that were supposed to have four legs actually had four legs. Or if there had been a variety of drinks behind the bar. Even just clean glasses would have done a lot to improve the atmosphere of the place.

Micah wasn’t in Hell to sightsee or experience the pleasures of travel. He hadn’t even paid anything to travel, so he didn’t complain, even if he didn’t quite like the hygiene of the place Rego had taken him.

Stolen story; please report.

Micah and Rego walked up to the bar and sat down. A few of the other guests noticed their arrival, but no one approached them. The man in the bar looked at Rego with a raised eyebrow.

“Two sets.”

Rego held up two fingers and spoke.

The bartender held out a hand, in which Micah placed six of his ten bronze coins. That made the bartender look at him.

“You new here?”

“Yep.”

“Welcome.”

After taking the payment and satisfying his curiosity, the bartender turned around and went through a saloon door to what Micah guessed was the kitchen. As the bartender walked away, another voice from the corner of the restaurant spoke up.

“Getting the newbie to pay for you, Rego? How shameless!”

“Oh, shut it, Stumps. You would have done the same if people could stand to talk with you for more than twenty seconds.”

Seeing Micah look at him with a raised eyebrow, Rego explained.

“That’s Stumps. He’s just a cranky old man, don’t pay any attention to what nonsense he says.”

Micah looked at the corner where Stumps was for a few seconds before the sound of the swinging saloon door caught his attention. The bartender had returned with a tray, upon which were two bowls and two glass bottles.

The two bowls contained something that would have been potato soup had there been anything other than potato and the milky liquid in it. It was Hell, and the restaurant was shabby and had a half-broken signboard leaning on its walls that read ‘Potato Pot.’ Micah’s expectations had been low. Yet, the food had still managed to disappoint him.

“Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

It seemed like Micah’s disappointment was visible on his face as Rego tried to comfort him.

“It’s worse!”

Unfortunately, Stumps’ shout ruined Rego’s efforts.

Rego forced a smile and ignored Stumps.

“You get used to it. And, eventually, it’s better than not eating at all.”

“Not eating at all?”

Micah changed the subject so that he could get a few moments to prepare before he tried the potato sludge.

“Yeah. As long as you have pol, you don’t have to eat, sleep, drink, piss, or shit, and you’ll be just fine. It’s the dream, really. Until you realize that all of those things make you feel alive.”

After he spoke, Rego began eating the sludge with a spoon, which forced Micah to be alone with his thoughts and the food in front of him.

Filled with doubt, Micah looked toward the glass bottle. Since it was slightly brown in color, it was impossible to tell what was inside it. And there were no labels, either.

Micah slowly reached out for the glass bottle that the bartender had sat down next to his bowl. But before he could take a sip, Rego grabbed and stopped his wrist before speaking with his mouth full of potato sludge.

“Potato first.”

“He’s right this time, newbie!”

Since both Rego and Stumps, who seemed like they didn’t get along very well with each other, agreed. Micah, who was in Hell and Vanitapolis for the first time, listened to their advice and put down the glass bottle again.

He then grabbed his spoon and brought a potato chunk and some slurry to his mouth. Thankfully, it didn’t smell.