Ch.6565. Toolung Harbor (2)

A native of Toulon Harbor. Pierre Bonafra, a man who had lived in this port city for 58 years, ran a restaurant in the shopping district near the harbor.

Like most men of Toulon Harbor, after years of rough sailing as a seaman, Pierre felt his age catching up with him at forty and retired, using his savings to open a restaurant in the shopping district.

Of course, due to his long life at sea, his personality had soured and he had become too accustomed to violence, making his restaurant anything but friendly, even as a polite fiction… Yet the restaurant was still doing well.

Pierre had not only the cooking skills honed during his life at sea but was also naturally talented, and his wife’s culinary abilities were second to none wherever they went.

In short, because the restaurant offered excellent cuisine with a distinct local character, it had become so successful that it gained fame among tourists and gourmets from across the country who visited Toulon Harbor.

Though Pierre himself wasn’t particularly pleased with this kind of popularity, this reputation had instantly made his restaurant a local attraction.

However, while the strong regional character of Pierre’s Toulon cuisine enhanced his reputation, it also resulted in all sorts of unseemly behavior from customers who visited simply because of its fame without proper understanding.

Of course, no one dared to act foolishly in front of Pierre, who still boasted impressive muscles despite approaching sixty.

And that day was no different from usual.

While preparing for business as always, two travelers—a man and a woman who appeared to be tourists (outsiders)—entered his establishment.

“…Welcome!”

Though Pierre was far from friendly, having been constantly nagged by his supportive wife, he gruffly greeted them while observing the pair.

“Is this… the famous restaurant that person mentioned?”

“…The Prophet is looking forward to it.”

They wore robes and cloaks that openly displayed their identity as mages, with staff-like equipment and backpacks strapped to their backs. The silver-grade adventurer registration cards hanging at their waists also caught Pierre’s eye.

‘…Have they come here for money?’

Their foreign appearance and the distinctive attire of high-ranking adventurers. While Pierre was trying to guess their identity, the two sat at a table and appeared to be reading the menu written by Pierre’s wife.

Of course, Pierre remained vigilant.

He had encountered countless difficult customers over the years. Many had visited simply because of the restaurant’s fame, only to cause a scene when the regionally distinctive cuisine didn’t suit their tastes.

Having long since abandoned his expectations, Pierre stood gruffly at his post when an order came from the two guests seated at the table.

“Sir! We’d like set number 4, please!”

“…Yes, understood!”

Since he had to serve food once an order was placed, Pierre began cooking, but inwardly he felt a sense of foreboding.

Set number 4 consisted of dishes with such strong regional character that even Toulon Harbor natives were divided in their opinions. Could he really serve it without problems?

After a moment’s hesitation, Pierre decided to let whatever happens happen and brought out “Pierre’s Restaurant” set number 4.

Pierre’s Restaurant’s set number 4 was considered the ultimate menu for those wanting to taste the sea.

The seafood platter with raw oysters, shrimp, mussels, scallops, and sea snails arranged on an iron tray was just the beginning.

Lobster sashimi made by halving and simply preparing the lobster. Clam chowder made with clams, cream, and potatoes. Add to this salt-cured raw sardines, and that was set number 4.

Due to expensive ingredients like lobster and oysters, the price wasn’t cheap, but the very concept of eating raw seafood was quite off-putting to outsiders.

Moreover, even in fishing villages, uncooked seafood tends to be quite divisive—could these travelers actually eat this menu?

‘These outsiders, I swear…!’

With a trace of anxiety and concern, inwardly expressing his dissatisfaction, Pierre brought out each dish in order and…

“…Mmm!”

“This has quite a unique flavor too.”

‘…Huh?’

Not only were they casually eating the food he had served, but these adventurers were also savoring his hometown’s specialties with apparent enjoyment… which surprised Pierre.

In modern terms, it would be like two foreign tourists coming to a region and heartily enjoying its most divisive local specialty dish.

For Pierre, who was experiencing something akin to a cross-temporal “foreign reaction” or YouTube reaction channel for the first time, the adventurers’ response triggered a flood of dopamine in his brain.

In his mind, a surge of affection for these two tourists welled up. At 58 years old, old enough to have a 3-year-old great-grandchild, Pierre suddenly saw these young tourists as endearing as neighborhood children.

“…Here.”

-Thud.

“Huh? What’s this…?”

“It’s on the house. It’s good to see young people enjoying their food!”

With his characteristic gruffness gone, Pierre laughed heartily and placed a meunière (fish dredged in flour and fried in butter) in front of them. The man happily accepted it and responded with a bright smile.

“Thank you, sir!”

“Ah, it’s nothing. There aren’t many young folks who appreciate seafood.”

“Actually, that’s why we stopped by Toulon Harbor. To taste the seafood here.”

“Well, you know your stuff! Yes, when it comes to seafood, Toulon Harbor is the place!”

Like most ordinary people of this era, Pierre had considerable local pride and laughed heartily at the young adventurer’s words…

“So, could you recommend some good places where we can try authentic Toulon Harbor cuisine?”

“That, I can certainly do!”

Pierre was delighted to share a local’s wisdom with a young person who could appreciate seafood.

※ ※ ※

“That old man was really friendly, wasn’t he?”

“More like a grandfather than an old man, but Gregory is right.”

Organizing the information we’d received from the friendly local in our minds, the two of us were walking side by side through what resembled the tourist district of Toulon Harbor.

Information about local hidden restaurants and accommodations. These details, essential for a more enjoyable trip, provided us with genuinely useful benefits.

“This is pretty good for street food.”

“Local recommendations rarely disappoint.”

Indeed, the food we were both munching on had been purchased from a shop recommended by the restaurant owner. It was a dish made of grilled blue fish—similar to mackerel in taste—sandwiched between bread.

The properly seasoned, savory grilled fish reminded me of memories from my old homeland, and the bread used was soft and fluffy, seemingly of good quality.

Having happily finished our snack, we gradually made our way toward the market to buy seafood for our animal friends and ingredients for future meals.

“Fish would be the best, right?”

“The Prophet thinks Gregory is correct. Fish would be best.”

With the substantial amount of money we’d obtained from vanquishing the vampire noble, we didn’t have to worry about running short of cash, no matter how much fish we bought.

We could even afford to buy boxes of expensive monster fish meat or premium fish without causing any significant problems to our financial situation.

So, by the time we reached the entrance of the fish market where the harbor’s fish retailers gathered…

“Hey, Sophia. Do you hear something?”

“The Prophet hears it too. …It doesn’t sound good.”

Our ears caught the sound of some commotion coming from the market, which seemed to be in disarray.

I considered my options. Should we head toward what was likely some kind of incident, or should we take a detour, not because the situation was messy but because we were afraid?

Of course, my deliberation didn’t last long.

“Let’s go forward. It’s probably nothing.”

“Yes, Gregory.”

Since we both had the power and authority to handle most situations with ease, I confidently entered the market where people were seen leaving, and…

“You rotten bastard… Do you think everything that comes out of your mouth counts as proper speech?”

“Your rudeness remains unchanged. Well, what can one expect from such common blood?”

What I saw was a man in an ornate uniform and armor having a heated argument with a man who had a silver-grade adventurer registration card at his waist.

Guessing that the nobleman (presumably) had started the dispute, I thought to myself.

“…Are you going to move aside?”

Suddenly, the atmosphere around us grew tense… and I realized that I had accidentally spoken aloud what I had only meant to think.