Chapter 54, Yellow

Translator: Barnnn

 

While waiting for the paperwork to be processed, Ize and Hal struck up a casual conversation with Kikuno. She had grown up in Jasted and seemed deeply familiar with parts of the city adventurers rarely explored.

When they asked if the city had a library or similar facility, Kikuno informed them about a public archive near a gate they hadn’t used when entering the city. Adventurers ranked C or higher could access the archive for free, while those ranked below had to pay an admission fee. Although Kikuno didn’t know the exact cost, she mentioned that presenting identification would earn them a discount.

The idea of visiting the archive during the winter instantly appealed to Ize.

Among its collection, the Sage Encyclopedia series was said to be available. Reading the entire set seemed unlikely, but Ize was determined to at least skim the volumes featuring Sages with overly dramatic or cringeworthy titles, certain they would be packed with delightfully embarrassing anecdotes.

Hal, catching onto her train of thought, gave her a mildly exasperated look but still asked Kikuno about the variety of books the archive offered.

 

Before long, the receptionist returned with their paperwork. After signing and finalizing the bank deposits, their business at the Guild was officially concluded. The two thanked the staff and left the room.

The group of adventurers they’d seen earlier had already departed, so they exited the Guild without lingering.

 

“That took a bit longer than expected,” Ize remarked as they stepped into the street.

“It’s still early for lunch,” Hal noted. “But heading off to look at armor now might be inconvenient. Should we stop by the Crafters’ Guild first and send off the specifications?”

“Good idea. We can grab lunch afterward.”

“Got it. I’m SO ready for the ultimate lunchtime dilemma.”

“I hope you are,” Ize teased.

 

At the Crafters’ Guild, they completed the process of sending the toilet specifications to Zoddoa in Bezbaro Village. The staff were visibly surprised to hear the name, suggesting that Zoddoa’s reputation as a master artisan preceded him.

 

◆

 

By the time they finished, it was lunchtime.

The pressing question of where to eat still hung in the air. Their last meal at Soup-er Pasta had been a culinary triumph, and Ize was eager to try the dishes they’d missed. Yet the allure of exploring a new restaurant was just as tempting.

 

Hal campaigned for a return to Soup-er Pasta, while Ize lobbied for another place Etta had recommended, renowned for its venison cutlets. The idea of savoring tender venison in cutlet form was far too enticing for Ize to ignore.

 

“Hal, look… the venison cutlets are doing a hula dance on the other side of the river, beckoning me. They’re adorable!”

“Nooo! Don’t give in, Ize!”

 

Unable to resist Ize’s enthusiasm, Hal finally relented, agreeing to try the cutlet restaurant — on the condition that their next lunch would be at Soup-er Pasta.

 

The restaurant was a cozy, unassuming establishment with a simple counter that seated ten. Since the place was still empty, the server led them to seats at the far end. Once settled, steaming cups of tea were placed before them.

 

“These tea cups look familiar…” Hal murmured, inspecting the sturdy, cylindrical design.

“Not just the cups — this is hojicha,” Ize added.

“Indeed,” the server said with a polite smile. “Our choice of tea cups and leaves are inspired by the preferences of the Sage who introduced us to cutlets. Please enjoy at your leisure.”

 

The warmth of the tea seeped into their chilled fingers, a soothing contrast to the cold outside.

 

“This is nice,” Hal said, his voice low and content.

“Definitely. Hojicha and green tea are best served in tea cups, not mugs,” Ize agreed.

 

Curious about the cups, they asked the staff for details and learned that they were crafted near the tea’s production region.

Hal and Ize exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to add the area to their ever-growing list of future destinations.

 

◆

 

Later, with their leftovers packed, Ize and Hal stepped out of the restaurant.

 

“I’m glad they let us take the extras,” Hal said, stretching slightly.

“Mm-hmm,” Ize replied, holding the bundle close. “I almost cried at the serving’s sheer amount… but now we know a perfect place to grab packed lunch for when we’ll be out exploring.”

 

True to Etta’s description, the shop prided itself on a “no meat left behind” policy. Every scrap of meat from a single Deer-type monster’s loot was turned into cutlets for one serving — amounting to a staggering kilogram. Paired with soup and bread, the meal would have overwhelmed Ize. Fortunately, the restaurant was happy to pack leftovers for their patrons.

 

With their stomachs pleasantly full, they strolled to the district known for its adventurer gear shops.

Their mission was to find equipment that suited Ize’s build and fighting style. Given her stature and skillset, gear designed for scouts or thieves seemed the most practical choice.

Hal used his Eye of Appraisal to meticulously scan the wares displayed outside the shops, hunting for hidden masterpieces.

 

“Ize, let’s check out that one,” he said, pointing ahead.

“‘Origin of Thievery’? That’s… quite a name.”

“It sounds promising — like they’d have the essentials for anyone taking up a thief’s profession.”

“Fair point.”

 

The shop was a treasure trove of peculiar items not often seen elsewhere: wires of varying thickness, pencil-like rods with glowing tips, fluorescent paint presumably for mapping, and other compact tools. Browsing felt more like exploring a quirky inventor’s workshop than a standard gear store.

 

“Ize, what do you think of these?” Hal asked, holding up a pair of goggles.

“Ah, eye protection.”

“Exactly. They’re like goggles for chemistry experiments, but sleeker — just for the eyes, not half the face.”

“Do you think protecting just my eyes is enough?”

“I dunno… what if a thorn pierces your face?”

“I could just use a Potion to heal it.”

“Yeah, but still…”

 

“–Looking for anything specific?”

 

The voice came suddenly from behind them. Ize stiffened. She hadn’t sensed any movement, though she hadn’t been actively using Perception. Both she and Hal turned to see a man standing there, so unremarkable they probably would forget him mere steps after leaving the shop if not for this startling first impression.

 

“We’re looking for gloves and face protection,” Hal explained, regaining his composure.

“Could you tell me about their intended use?” the man asked.

“My brother’s skilled in close combat with knives,” Hal said, motioning to Ize. “But the impact from fights has been rough on his hands. And he’s had to handle poisonous enemies barehanded — it’s becoming too risky. Ideally, we’d like gloves that protect without hindering knife work.”

“By the way, the face protection is for dealing with Chestnut Bombers,” Ize added.

The man’s brow furrowed. “…Chestnut Bombers?”

“Yes, the spiky things,” Hal clarified.

“Ah, yes, I’m familiar. But… why are you dealing with them? They’re not exactly harvested for anything…”

“To eat them,” Ize replied matter-of-factly.

“…Excuse me?”

 

The man’s expression froze in disbelief.

 

“There was a similar nut in our hometown,” Hal explained. “We’d boil or roast them, then eat the insides. We thought Chestnut Bombers might be edible too, so we plan to give it a try.”

“And for the record,” Ize added cheerfully, “our nuts are super sweet and delicious!”

The man pressed his lips together, his shoulders trembling. “I-is that so?” he finally managed, though a chuckle slipped through. “Your… nuts are like Chestnut Bombers…”

“You can laugh,” Ize said with a grin. “It’s fine.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Go on, let it out,” she encouraged.

“In that case, excuse me…”

 

With a quick bow, the shopkeeper retreated into the back, his footsteps as silent as a shadow. Moments later, the muffled sound of uproarious laughter erupted from beyond the doorway.

 

“Bwahaha! Huff, snrk — gahaha! Oh my–! Ha… gah, haha, heh… pfft, haha! Gahhh!”

 

“Is he… okay?” Ize asked, glancing at Hal.

“Laughing that hard isn’t normal, let’s just say,” Hal replied, his lips twitching with amusement. “Sounds like no one has really ever tried eating them.”

“Which means we won’t know for sure how good they are until we do, then.”

“Right…”

 

A few minutes later, the shopkeeper reemerged, visibly calmer, though his face was flushed.

 

“Apologies for the delay. Ahem…” Clearing his throat, he placed several items on the counter: gloves, helmets, scarves, and goggles. “Here are a few options — first, these gloves. The green ones are poison-resistant, while the others offer shock resistance or additional durability.”

“May I try them on?” Ize asked.

“Of course.”

 

She began with the poison-resistant gloves, which reminded her of stiff rubber cleaning gloves. Though durable, they didn’t stretch much.

 

“They feel a bit restrictive for knife work,” she observed, flexing her fingers.

“Would you like to test them with a blade?” the shopkeeper offered.

“May I use my own knife?”

“Er… yes, of course.”

 

Ize pulled a knife from her ring-shaped Magic Bag and began testing the grip.

Hal, watching from the side, made a face that radiated second-hand embarrassment. He exchanged a glance with the shopkeeper, giving him a quick wink to let it slide. The man responded with a subtle, tight-lipped smile and a nod.

 

“Yeah, they’re a bit too stiff,” Ize concluded, setting the gloves aside.

“These blue ones are more flexible,” the shopkeeper said, gesturing to another pair. “The inner and outer layers use different materials to enhance durability while maintaining elasticity.”

“Thank you.”

 

Ize slipped them on and immediately noticed the difference. They were snug but supple, reminiscent of sturdy medical gloves. Gripping her knife, she found the movement smooth and comfortable.

 

“These are great,” she said, clearly impressed.

“I’m glad they suit you,” the man replied.

“Should we get spares?” Hal asked.

“I’d like to test them in the field first. Depending on the enemy, I might need to switch gloves.”

“Fair enough. We’ll go with one pair of these for now.”

“Now, about your nuts…” The shopkeeper paused, suppressing a chuckle. “Ahem — I mean, face protection for Chestnut Bombers. The goggles you tried earlier should work well. For neck and face coverage, how about this scarf?”

 

He handed over a snood-style scarf adorned with small hooks along the edges.

 

“What are these hooks for?” Ize asked, inspecting the design.

“They secure the scarf to your clothing to prevent it from shifting and can attach to goggles or other equipment for additional stability.”

“Want to try it on?” Hal suggested.

“Sure.”

 

Ize donned the goggles and scarf, carefully fastening the hooks.

 

“Well… this is a look,” Hal remarked, his tone amused. “Kind of reminds me of a kids’ cartoon mascot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ize shot back, narrowing her eyes.

“You know, like one of those yellow, goggled characters?”

“Oh, I see…” She paused, then frowned. “Waaait, was that even supposed to be a compliment?”

“Nope. But hey, it works, right? You’ll only need it for the ninth floor.”

“True. I’ll take it,” Ize decided.

“Wanna look around for anything else?” Hal asked.

“Hmm…” Ize turned back to the shopkeeper. “Do you have any other recommendations? We’re planning to reach the twentieth floor within the season.”

 

“The twentieth floor, you say…” The man murmured as he bent down to retrieve something from beneath the counter. When he straightened, he placed the object before them with great care.

 

“”…A bamboo shoot?”” Hal and Ize said in unison, staring in disbelief.

 

Indeed, the object, heavy and solid, looked unmistakably like a springtime delicacy: a bamboo shoot.