The Other World Dining Hall (WN)

A small city, made by a fort close to the border between the kingdom and the empire and by a merchant gathered together with soldiers defending the fort.

We don't know when it's going to strike. We have an important job to say we'll keep an eye on the border with the barbaric, mighty empire. We have soldiers. In relation to what's going on until midnight. There's a drinking area in this city with a bunch of drinkers who do it late at night.

Lighted by the dim lights obtained by burning lamps and pine lights, the cobblestone-free rough roads and the people who go there walk around to make noisy drinks and eats until it is time for everyone to rest in other cities. It is such a place.

Because it is such a city, many children in this city have fortified soldiers for their fathers.

Many of them usually live with their mothers in separate residences from their fathers, who are given a room inside the fort to work on assignments.

Most of them grow up without worrying about who their father is.

It's not uncommon to only know that one of several men walking in and out of the house would be the father when it's terrible.

But sometimes those children come when they have to live with their father.

… is when you lose your mother.

A boy with a soldier in his father defending such a fort, Reiner, was walking in the city of day with his hand drawn to Paul, his father, who says he's off duty today.

"Dad, where are you going?

There is a little nervousness in the liner asking with the hands firmly connected.

My mother, who has been living with me for a long time, died of illness, and Paul takes me back to say that the liner who lost her place to go is her father, and it's only about a month.

Besides, I'll just feed him at the fort during the day. Even kids can make sure he chores.

The only residence-like residence is in a small room that is assigned to a lower soldier.

That's why I'm glad to be able to go outside even in a city I'm used to seeing.

Still, I honestly didn't know what to do when I said I was alone with a father I didn't have much company with.

"Dad, I'm hungry... you can feed me in Danshak over there."

"Not yet. Wait a minute."

Paul shakes his head at a liner that points and says a stall that deals in boiled danshak fruit for the poor.

"What, you promised..."

Crushing with dissatisfaction over Paul's condition like that.

Before noon, Paul, prepared to go out, said to a liner who was hungry, not enough with a slice of kachikachi bread and thin soup.

- Whoa, I'll take you to a good place. I'll feed you a delicious meal, so follow me.

I know I haven't eaten anything.

Even though the sun was still high, I didn't want to sit still with my stomach full, or be used to lower the fort. The liner rode Paul's invitation and decided to go out with his hands together.

"Well wait. I don't know where I'm going now, I'm a meshi shop. So what's with all that imperial danshaku? You're gonna regret it... see, this way."

Saying so, Paul holds up the liner and puts it on his shoulder.

Keep going into the back alley, through a messy road...

"Dad, what is it? Ah?

A vacant, pompous space in the city.

More and more in the center there, a sign with a painting of a cat lowered, a black door was placed.

"Whoa, that door is where I thought I'd bring you. I stumbled across it in the middle of nowhere."

Paul stands in front of the door with his nose crossed.

It's a fine door that still looks so big for a kid liner.

A well polished black wooden door with a sign with a cat painting.

There's something written there, but I don't know what it says on the liner where the letters can't be read.

"Dad, what does this say?

Paul answers the question of his son, who remains in a shoulder car, skillfully, having been taught to the point where the letters can be read once in the soldier's education.

"Oh, here's what I wrote... a cat from another world of cuisine."

With that said, I hang my hands on a chilly golden handle and open the door.

The chillin 'chillin' and the bell rings and the door opens.

The moment I opened the door, I went out into a strangely bright room.

There are as many people there as there are thriving taverns, eating dishes that I've never seen on my own like demons, dwarves, and then alien things that obviously only look like demons.

"Hey, what the hell is going on here..."

The liner, which is shouldered and can be seen far away, shrugs his neck and looks in the room slightly.

"Welcome"

"Ah, there you are"

Two adult women greet Paul and Liner, who are probably the women's salaries in this store when they do that.

She is the daughter of a demon clan with black curly horns growing on her golden hair and a human daughter with dark hair and a slightly unusual face.

"I'll show you to your seat."

One of them, a blonde demon girl, speaks more sneerily to Paul.

"Then it's time to get off."

Saying so, Paul lowers the liner and is led to his seat by two.

A comfortable chair in a strangely bright room in a room with no windows.

Well-polished table with all kinds of bins in one corner.

While he is distracted by such a rare thing, Paul completes his order with his daughter, who has just guided him.

"Give me a beer. Then I want you to serve him something, even seal juice. And ask for the same sweet marge as before in a pile."

"Yes, please wait a moment"

It was a dish that wasn't on the menu, but when I asked for it, I would order the dishes that came out.

Fish fried in oil and roasted fish are delicious too, but this time I brought them to feed my son.

"Dad, what's a sweet marge?

"Oops, a little unusual, fish dish. Ugh."

Paul answers Paul's chest a bit to a liner who rarely looked inside the store and asked Paul's unheard of dishes.

"I wonder?... whoa."

As soon as I heard Paul say that, Reiner made me look blatantly disgusted.

When I was a kid, unlike Paul, who grew up in a town with a sea, for a liner who was born and raised in a city with a distant border of the sea, I hardly ever saw a fish as a substitute and I didn't want to eat it.

I once bought a dried fish Paul said the pedestrian had brought and fed it to the liner.

But Paul was eating deliciously, saying he missed it, but what he ate at that time, like fish,

It smells weird to the liner. It's strangely salty and hard. So I didn't think it would taste good at all.

"Me, I don't want it. Let me eat something else, Dad."

Paul lets his son respond with a deeper grin when he returns such childish honest words.

"Well wait. Let's try it first."

And often wait.

"Please wait. I brought the beer I ordered with apple juice and fried sweet potatoes."

Different servings bring the dishes.

A white vessel containing a white something with a light yellow colour, mixed with yellow-green chopped vegetables and a red one.

Something brown and round, surrounded by them and easy to take with a fork, made a noise all around and was made into a pile.

Place the dish in the middle of the table, then grab a small plate with nothing on it and one of the bins placed on the table.

"Soy sauce is your choice. Oh, and the Seven Flavours Mayo is a little spicy, so please be careful with your kids...... take your time"

That's all I tell you. Slowly, he seemed to have his eye on the sawdust. Dwarves go to another seat in formation to pick up the order.

"Now, do you want to eat while it's hot"

I also need to eat and show it first for liners looking at sweet marge like something I'm not sure yet.

While I thought so, I took the silver fork and stabbed it in one piece and showed it.

(When I say 'give me fish dishes that aren't fishy at all', this comes out.)

When I said I regret eating my hometown dried food before and then thinking the fish tasted bad, it was this dish that the shopkeeper here had been thinking about and serving.

Apparently, the previous generation of store owners made everything from time to time.

(Well at first... nothing, right)

Open your big mouth and bump.

A soft sweet marge mixed with hot oil is cut with a puffy tooth, which gives me juice.

the brown-skinned part with a slightly stiff, relaxed and burnt flavor, with a fish flavor but with little distinctive smell of the fish;

The white, slightly salty and sweet taste inside spreads through your mouth.

(Oh, yeah)

Stir the beer as you unwittingly blow your face at its flavor.

A tingly bitter beer pushes the sweet marge flavor into your throat.

After fully enjoying the throat, Paul exhaled satisfactorily.

Don't you dare worry about a liner that drinks sawdust and spit, second.

Now apply to white mayonnaise mixed with dusty red.

The sticky mayonnaise dyes the sweet marge white and eats half of it.

(Knock it off!

The spiciness of the red mixed in it, with a slightly soft mayonnaise acidity in the still hot sweet marge.

That's delicious again.

So after a bite, now put the leftovers on the plate, take the accompanying leafy vegetables on the plate, and drain the seasoning, which is called a black shoyu.

Strong with salt, this shoyu breaks the balance of flavor if hung too much, but tightens the flavor with a small amount.

Then, carry it to your mouth. Leaf vegetables for a hot sweet marge with a pleasant sneeze and teeth.

Beer was the strongest in this combination.

"When!?... but hey"

A liner who couldn't stand Paul, who looked delicious, had also always reached for a fork in his hand.

The only hesitation I had was the first bite.

If only that had passed, I would have eaten later to contend with Paul.

"How about that! Ugh!... hey over here, with an extra sweet marge"

Paul ordered an extra sweet marge, laughing so hard at the way it was going.

Noon.

The two returned to their original vacant land, exhaling satisfactorily at the same time.

"Was it delicious?

After the door disappeared, Paul asked the liner, who nodded and showed one.

"Then you can go and eat again..."

"You too. Leave it to me..."

With that said, Paul puts his thoughts on the future.

The border guard soldier life I've been doing for years is going to be over soon.

No matter how much, it's impossible to raise a child while you're still a soldier in this city.

(Well, you can go back over there and help your father, but then you can live... that's fine, right, Rhina?

Then every day I eat fish, not that kind of rotten dried fish, the kind of freshly taken real fish that comes out of that store.

With that in mind, Paul thought about living with his still light son on his shoulder.