"Smoked fish over rice again?" The waitress stood by his side, menu in hand.
"Ah, no, let me get something different. The smoked meat and cheese bread." Little John took the menu, glanced at it, then picked an inexpensive option. "And a Light Beer."
As he spoke, he pulled a few Copper Coins from his pocket and placed them on the menu.
"Of course. It will be right out. Please let me know if you need anything else." Seeing the Copper Coins, the waitress’s attitude did a complete one-eighty. Her previously icy face instantly melted like a spring thaw.
’Money really does make the people around you happy.’ Little John mused from his usual spot in the corner of the Ear-Cleaning Master Tavern, watching the waitress walk with a new spring in her step. This was the first time he had ever tipped. On his previous visits, she had only ever managed two words for him: "What?" and "Wait." Now, it seemed he had cured her of both mutism and depression. The boss had been right: if someone’s unhappy, just throw money at them. If they don’t cheer up, it just means you haven’t thrown enough.
’Mary said someone was coming to Yangjiao Town soon, didn’t she?’ He propped his hands on the table and scanned the tavern’s patrons. Among them were some familiar faces and some new ones, but none of them looked as new as the tables and chairs. ’Looks like they’ve been replaced again.’
"I saw those goblins again. Good thing we ran fast, or someone would’ve died for sure." A bronze-skinned Islander slammed down his wooden mug of ale. "It’s getting harder and harder to get by on the outskirts of the forest."
"Heard the Storm Brotherhood all died in the forest," his companion said. The remark instantly set the whole tavern abuzz, with everyone chiming in.
Little John listened quietly to their discussions. Some said it was infighting, others said they encountered a Demon, and still others claimed they all died in a mysterious Relic. But they all agreed on one thing—their gear had looked pretty good, and now it was lost somewhere unknown in the forest.
"It’s not exactly unknown, considering you all visit so often and talk about how beautiful and kind Miss Mary is," Little John muttered under his breath.
"I heard from the town watch that the Count’s Mansion is sending people to Yangjiao Town," an Adventurer suddenly announced. "Probably to deal with those goblins."
Little John perked up, hoping someone would reveal the information he was waiting for.
"I saw the Count’s guards arrive yesterday. I saw their Armor at the Association."
"I saw them too. The people at the Association were very respectful. Whoever they are, they must be important."
"That Light Steel Armor of theirs looks expensive. Even better than the Storm Brotherhood’s equipment."
The clatter of dishes interrupted Little John’s eavesdropping. The waitress set down a few plates and said, "Here’s your food."
"Thanks," Little John said with a nod. He then looked toward the bar, waiting for his Light Beer.
The crowd’s discussion continued, now debating who was stronger: the guards or the Storm Brotherhood. Some said the Count’s guards, having never been in the forest, would surely be at a disadvantage. Others argued that with their superior gear and skill, they would have no trouble at all on the forest’s edge.
’Walk sideways? Think they’re crabs on a beach?’ Little John chuckled to himself. He had actually seen real crabs in Torch City just the other day.
’Hmm, what’s the owner up to?’ he wondered, looking at the bar. His vantage point gave him a perfect view of a small corner at the end of the counter, where the tavern owner had just placed a drink.
It was a slender, clear glass, less than 10 centimeters tall, filled with a liquid as vibrant as blood.
Before long, a bat flew in through a small window at the back, clutching two Silver Coins in its feet.
’That window must open into a dark alley.’ Little John watched as the bat placed the Silver Coins on the counter, scuttled over to the glass, and, wrapping its little body around it, began to slowly sip.
"Your Light Beer." The owner arrived in front of Little John carrying a large wooden mug. "Haven’t seen you around for a while."
"Was out taking care of some business," Little John said, then pointed to the corner of the bar. "What’s that?"
"What are you referring to? The drink?" the owner asked, his face still an expressionless mask. "It’s a house specialty. Red fruit wine, brewed from wild berries from the forest—raspberries, that sort of thing. Two Silver Coins for a small glass. Want one?"
"I mean the bat." Little John glanced over, noticing the bat had nearly finished the red fruit wine.
"Him? An old customer. Doesn’t come by often." The owner was still looking at Little John, not even turning his head.
Little John watched the bat drain the glass, then stick out its tongue to lick its lips and nose. After crawling a few steps on the counter, it wobbled out through the small window.
"Uh, I’ll have a glass too," he said, turning to look at the two-meter-tall owner.
"One moment." The tavern owner tossed out the phrase and went back to the bar. A moment later, he was back in front of Little John, pinching a small glass between his fingers.
"Whoa, strong." Little John downed the fruit wine in one gulp. The intense kick was completely different from Light Beer or ale, and he had to take a swig of his Light Beer to soothe the burn.
"That bat can really hold its liquor," he muttered to himself after catching his breath.
The group of Adventurers’ discussion had now progressed to the point where they were claiming the Count’s guards were nothing special; if a few of them ganged up on one, they could definitely take him down.
Little John smiled as he watched them. The men were rolling up their sleeves and puffing out their chests, each trying to prove how strong he was. They bragged about how many goblins they’d killed, claiming that with a little more time, they’d be able to stride in and out of the forest like they owned the place.