“Thank you for your patronage and please come again sometime!”

A light female voice sounded out with a chime of a bell as Mican opened the door to the clothing store and stepped out onto the street.

Walking out of the crowd’s way, Mican stretched and flexed his muscles, getting a feel for the new clothes he had bought.

The store’s attendant had told him that they were the most comfortable pair they had in his size after taking his measurements, and they did indeed feel decent. They could by no means match up to his old world’s clothes, but they felt much better than the ranger’s clothing that he had been wearing.

The young man had been dressed in a pair of dark green trousers secured by a belt, tucked into a pair of hard leather boots, a white long-sleeved shirt under a tight-fitting rough piece of leather armor, which the girl had told him was an old piece of her father’s.

His hands were covered by a pair of leather gauntlets and a long dark blue robe came along with his purchase, clasped together by a shield shaped pin at the front.

Adjusting the blue cloak slightly, Mican surveyed the much less crowded streets and the falling sun. Night was coming quickly, and light was leaving the town, but people walking over and lighting the lamps kept the darkness at bay.

The noises and dancing was still very alive in the square and it looked to Mican as if they planned to dance and drink the night away.

Boisterous, loud noises came out of one of the buildings near the end of the street, attracting Mican’s attention. The sign that stuck out of it was one with a loaf of bread on top of a bed, and the meaning was quite apparent to Mican.

He immediately headed towards the inn, watching the festivities and people passing by around him.

The closer the young man approached, the louder the noises became. It was a clear hotspot for drinking and having fun in the town, as it was by far the liveliest building in the entire square.

Opening the double-door, Mican entered and was greeted by the intense smell of booze and body odour. In front of him was a large room filled with tables of drink and food, with many parties of people gathered around each one, laughing and roaring uproariously.

Mican grimaced subconsciously from the intense smells and heat assaulting his senses, before heading up to the counter in the far back of the room.

The counter was partitioned off by a thin wall of wood, both manned by women. The section on the left was much smaller than the right and had a sign over it with a bed.

“Hello there, miss, is this a place to rest?” Walking up to the counter, Mican greeted the gaudily dressed woman behind it.

“Yes, mister. Welcome to the Brick & Wealth tavern and inn, the main inn in Spurrose.” The woman immediately perked up upon sight of Mican, likely due to his above average looking clothing.

It was quite difficult to hear each other over the rowdy sounds of the tavern members, so the two had to shout slightly.

“I have one silver coin on me, how long will it get me a room for?” Mican took out a single gleaming coin he had prepared from the insides of his robe, showing it to the woman.

“It’ll get you a good, quiet room for fifteen days with hot meals. You want it?”

“Give me it, but I will likely leave earlier.”

“Alright then sir, just come and collect your change once you leave.” Finishing her sentence, the woman handed Mican a key with a wooden board that had the number eight carved onto it.

She then pointed to a staircase right next to the counter, sectioned off by a door.

Thanking the woman, Mican then headed to the right counter that was much wider, with a visible kitchen behind it. A large and robust looking woman manned this counter, and a wooden sign of a piece of bread hung swaying above the counter.

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“HEY, miss! Gimme the best you’ve got, and a lot of it-“ Waving his key and wooden board at the woman, Mican shouted his order and pointed at one of the only open tables in the room- “and no alcohol!”

The woman took once glance at the board and then nodded to him, not bothering to even try to speak over the crowd.

Walking over to the empty table, Mican sat down and let out a relieved sigh, resting his weary legs. The young man felt as if he had been travelling for on the road for weeks instead of just a meagre few days. Resting his eyes, he leaned back into his seat.

Over time, as the sun fully set and night kicked in, more and more people came streaming in through the inn’s doors, looking for a place to stay.

The voices didn’t decrease in volume at all as night came, the festive mood in the town only serving to add cheer to its residents.

Mican wiped a few food stains and drops of water off of his table with a handkerchief that had been provided and looked around at the residents in the inn. He was not one to get caught up in the mood, but the good cheer even got to him.

Even despite the disgusting cleanliness standards of the tavern, the stains, dirt, and smell, the world through his eyes was so bright and vibrant. He could feel the heat of the people permeating through his strengthened body, and the music and singing danced in his ears.

“Hello there, friend. Do you mind if I share your table? All of the other ones are full.”

A calming voice sounded out across from Mican, and he looked up to meet the rugged face of a middle-aged man.

The man had a fairly thick beard and mustache, and a head of short grey hair. His face didn’t look completely elderly, but yet contained a fair amount of wrinkles, as if he had experienced the vicissitudes of the world at a young age. It made him seem older than he probably was.

He dressed in a proper manner, with a white shirt underneath a dark-brown leather coat, and a pair of brown trousers rolled into similar boots. There were several stains of unknown origins on his clothes, and his beard was kept slightly unkempt.

He didn’t look very neat, but he was not dressed entirely sloppily either, especially as compared to the other people Mican had seen.

Looking around at the tavern, Mican did indeed not see any free tables. They had all been taken up by new guests looking for food and drink.

“Feel free to take a seat.”

“Thank you. Haaaah~” The middle-aged man pulled out a chair and sat down, letting out a sigh similar to Mican’s.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, resting, before a waitress girl showed up at their table carrying two trays of steaming hot food.

“There’ll be more coming, mister. Don’t you worry, just focus on eating your fill,” The waitress spoke in a thick accent as she set the two trays down, before unpacking their contents onto the table.

There were several loaves of soft-bread, served at the side of a steaming large bowl of what looked to be creamy white mushroom soup. Another bowl was served to the side, packed tightly with a meat pie, the surface already broken by a knife, spreading a delectable scent of well-cooked minced meat and potatoes.

One more bowl was served to the side, filled with boiled corn and peas, topped by a brown gravy. Lastly, a large mug of water thudded down onto the table and the waitress left.

Looking at the food, Mican’s eyes widened, and saliva nearly leaked out of his mouth. In his previous world, food culture seemed much more advanced than it did here, and he was a fairly wealthy individual, so he had tasted the many well-done cuisines of the world. Even so, he could still say with certainty that a meal had never been so appetizing to him than it did at that very moment.

Grabbing some of the bread, he tore into the loaf with gusto, dipping it into the mushroom soup and chowing down. A slight shock ran through his brain after biting in, the taste of the mushroom soup and the soft bread spreading through his tastebuds. The soup was creamy and delectable, and the pieces of mushrooms were an amazing little surprise that he found in his mouthfuls.

Using the large wooden utensils on the table, he aggressively dug into the meat pie, shoveling mouthful after mouthful into his mouth and swallowing after only a few meagre chews.

After a meagre half a minute or so, Mican had polished off over half of the entire table, chugging down water to wash down his food when he needed it.

A slight silence came down in the area a few meters around Mican as the people around him stopped chatting to watch in awe at his capabilities.

“Here you go mister, another servi-“ The serving waitress that had been away for only a tiny amount of time came back only to stop in her tracks at the sight- “well… darn.”

After several more bowls of food, Mican finally let loose a sigh and put down his utensils. Even he himself was slightly shocked at his appetite at that moment. It was as if eating contained an entirely new meaning for him, and he had never had such a fulfilling meal before.

Looking up, he was surprised to find the middle-aged man staring at him in surprise while sipping on a mug of beer he had gotten at some point in time.

“Apologies for the display, I was a bit hungry.”

“You call that a bit? Hahahaha!” The man nearly spit out his drink as he laughed raucously, slapping his knee.

“Don’t worry, I get you. Grantold city isn’t far from here, so good quality ingredients aren’t hard to come. It makes it so that the food is especially tasty around these parts.” The man nodded in understanding, seemingly consoling Mican.

“That’s true.” Pretending to understand, Mican nodded along with him.

The young man had never been one to talk much, but seeing the opportunity to dig for information, he immediately initiated conversation and took it.