Free Life ~Record of the Struggle of a Different World General Merchant~

"Yumi, you're an out-of-the-box carnivore..."

"... Momogu"

One Saturday afternoon, Nobunaga Sayama, who runs "Anything Store/Free Life", and his resident employee, Yumiel, were coming to Street, one of the lower district boulevards.

Lined on either side of the road width where about two carriages can pass are stalls, stalls, stalls… even an alley leading to the boulevard is scattered with small stalls that trade candy and accessories. Taken together, all of them, this corner is called "Grand Feria Street" (commonly known as "Street Street").

It is the people (many of them poor young people) who do not have the financial resources to have a store in a section above the Intermediate District that leaves the store in "Street Street". Many of them who wish "one day to own a store" are still full of people who spend their whole lives doing business in the street.

But at times, some of them grow enough to even set up stores in the superior districts with their outspoken arms, novel ideas.

In view of such facts, jade stone mixing, albeit subordinate. Sometimes, you'll find incredible delicacies. Such was arguably one of the attractions of "street streets" that made me want to explore regularly in order to find "balls" mixed in stone.

On this day, Noble Daughter, who had no holiday plans, took her cohabitant Yumiel out to find her first "balls" in a long time. And I've been looking around at various stalls for about an hour now...

"Eat anything but meat dishes. See, this grilled corn and stuff taste good? Salty..."

"... meat, it's delicious"

Sitting in a chair provided by the stall, Yumiel even scissors broiled skewers of lamb. She's a poor looking fairy breed who only speaks of morning dew and flower nectar, but she actually likes meat a lot, and orders all the expensive meat dishes without even thinking about her own pocket or something when she eats out occasionally.

Yumiel quietly eats his little mouth of lamb in his hands without even looking at the roasted corn he holds in his hands. Because I can't dress up as I gave it away, or I sighed one, and Guitar mouthed the corn.

"It's delicious..."

Gash-gash and precious corn whose sweetness is enhanced by salt air, is served to the stomach. Even in the meantime, Yumiel is not oriented towards other dishes placed on the table, chewing slightly heavier dripping sheepmeat.

Seasoned only with rock salt and dried herbs. I don't even like that, fish and chips or sausages mixed with blood or even liver. It was apparently an extra favor for the two of you to buy a little more. If I waited for her to finish eating, the freshly made would cool off.

In the end, after taking care of the leftover dishes, Sausage gave them to his daughters, who were lying next to him with their crushed eyes, and the fish fried to their daughters from the alley to the black cat, who peered into his gap. Potatoes? I eat them with a little bit of habitual vinegar. That's his favorite, so he ate them alone.

"Do you still want to pinch something? Or maybe we'll go to the market and get some ingredients for dinner."

"... whatever you want"

Yumiel finished eating sheepmeat, so a long stay is just useless and noble to rise from the chair. It's not an intermediate cafe. Here, sloppy sitting guests are hated. If we're going to have a chat, we're going to walk, and that's the basic fashion in the street.

Throw wrapping paper, skewers, etc. into the trash and leave the sassy store, nobles. As it was, he began to flutter down the street unexpectedly as he talked about what he was going to do. I don't have an errand like this. As I said, I could still keep eating and walking here, and it wasn't bad to finish shopping early and relax at home.

If the walnuts had stayed here, time would have passed instantly just to do that opponent. But they said they had business in the orphanage, and they're already home. Later on, you and Yumiel lack initiative. I walked quite a bit away from where I was sitting, but I still couldn't decide what to do.

But they didn't hate the way they spent their time, either, which seemed like a waste from the other's point of view. Relax and walk the streets filled with hustle and bustle. The voice of a prestigious guest in your ears, tickling your nose smells like roasted meat. What mixes occasionally is the ripe smell of fruit from open-store sales? I don't hate nobles who usually prefer a time of serenity or occasionally roll out into such a vibrant place.

Besides, there are various encounters. People in this city want to be good or bad. There is no way that the children of Bright Orphanage, the people of Lower Town, and many who have seen them can leave them alone. The people of the city colour a life that is too quiet for both of us.

"Ah, Taka Hiro. Yummy."

Here's another one. Someone who speaks freely to you...

"Isn't that a caorle? Why are you putting out stalls?

There was no desk or chair for guests in front of them, who walked to the edge of the street, and one small triple tatami stall with a cooking platform occupying much of the space. Inside it sat a brunette girl with familiar face.

"haha...... hey,"

There are several rice balls lined up on her hand to laugh beyond saying so. Since seaweed is not commonly distributed in Granferia, they are all wrapped in salt mushrooms or pickles of leaves. I wonder if charcoal in a small furnace is an abdominal accumulation to make even roasted rice balls.

"No, a little... what happened to the Mampu Pavilion? I don't think it's your day off."

For anything store and free life on a weekly holiday basis, Saturday hits the holidays, but the public doesn't. Many workers work sweaty on their foreheads, and the fixer/mumpkin pavilion, which uses them as its main guests, should also be open.

It's not as big a store as the Intermediate District, but it still thrives so much that the workers can't afford it. Why is a billboard daughter in such a store opening a stall in such a place? To you, I didn't understand much.

"Yeah... uh, it's a long time to talk..."

And, for one thing, the circumstances spoken of from her mouth. That was too much to involve a moderate greatness.