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According to Garcsche, “Entertaining guests is also part of a governor’s duty,” and he gave a quick order to his retainers.
Before long, we were led to a nearby restaurant under Garsche’s guidance. It was a lively tavern filled with the scent of the sea.

“Business comes after food!”

Garsche declared, leading us to a huge, sturdy table. The place had been completely reserved for us.
There were twelve of us from the Demon Lord’s Army, including myself. Garsche was the only one representing Belrüsa.
I’m impressed he showed no trace of fear sitting at a table full of monsters. Well, his guards all look pale as ghosts, though.
Soon enough, the food arrived.

“It’s all stuff from the sea, so I don’t know if it’ll suit your taste,”

Garsche warned. But to me, it looked absolutely delicious.
Ah, seafood. How nostalgic.
Shrimp and mushroom stewed in oil, sautéed scallops, fish and vegetable stew… They all resembled dishes from my previous life and looked mouthwatering.

“No need for stiff talk yet! Feed your guests well, and the rest will go smoothly! Am I wrong?”
“Sounds logical.”

I agreed, sipping a garlicky shrimp soup. The flavor reminded me of Mediterranean cooking.

For everyone except Mao, it was their first time eating seafood.
They hesitated, exchanging wary glances before cautiously picking at their plates.

“Hey, Veit, there’s something that looks like a bug in this…”
“That’s shrimp. Just eat it—it’s good.”
“Sir Veit, what are these tiny round things?”
“No idea, but probably fish eggs.”

Why does everyone keep asking me?
I’m trying to savor my first seafood since reincarnation—leave me be.
Ah, being a werewolf sure has its perks.
With a bottomless stomach, I could eat forever.

I’d already forgotten about the negotiations and was happily devouring food when Garsche burst out laughing.

“You’re amazing! Werewolves can really eat that much?!”
“Of course. I’m just getting started. Bring more—it’s delicious.”
“Ha ha ha! How about that? Belrüsa’s got some decent firepower too, huh?”
“An elite force indeed.”

I munched on fried white fish and washed it down with a citrus drink.

“This is the best fish I’ve ever had. More, please.”
“Eat all you want!”

Then the chef came from the kitchen, whispering something to Garsche with a troubled look.
Garsche sighed.

“What do you mean there’s no more food? Our guest isn’t full yet!”
“Sorry, Boss. We’ve got plenty of fish, but we can’t cook them fast enough.”

Well, there were nine werewolves here. Even the lightest eater amongst us, Monsa, had just finished a whole roasted chicken on her own.
The Garne brothers had stacked plates around them like a sushi conveyor belt. No wonder the kitchen was struggling.
Garsche gave the exasperated chef a wry smile.

“Well, we can’t serve it raw like we do for ourselves. Guess they’ll just have to wait a bit.”

That made me realize—every dish on the table was thoroughly cooked and seasoned with vegetables and spices to remove any fishiness.
There were also potatoes, chicken, and cheese—ingredients familiar even in Lüenheit.
They’d been considerate of us, coming from inland.

But wait. Did I hear “Can’t serve it raw like we do” coming from Garsche? So they do eat raw fish here?

“Say, Garsche.”
“What is it?”

When he turned toward me, I asked.

“You people eat raw fish?”

At that, Garsche grinned.

“Of course we do. The best way to eat a fresh catch is to slice it and eat it raw.”

Damn sure it is.
Though in my previous world, we also knew that some fish tasted better after resting a while—but without refrigeration, that knowledge probably didn’t exist here.

Still, I don’t really care about that right now. I want sashimi in my mouth.

“Then how about letting me try some?”
“Oh? Brave man, aren’t you?”

Garsche gave a mischievous smirk and told the chef.

“Bring it out.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it’s too much for them, we’ll eat it ourselves. Now go—don’t keep our guest waiting.”

After the chef left, Garsche stared at me with a grin, clearly expecting me to chicken out.
He looked like a kid planning a prank.

Before long, a large platter was brought before me.

“Here you go, assorted fresh fish.”

It looked more like carpaccio than sashimi—thin slices of white fish with a separate dressing on the side.
I suddenly realized everyone’s eyes were on me—both the Belrüsa men and my own subordinates, watching with great interest.

“Hey, Veit… isn’t that just raw fish?”

Younger Garne wasn’t wrong, but hearing it that way kind of killed my appetite.

“Do southern people really eat that? Don’t they get stomachaches?”

Rasie looked like she was about to say something tactless, so I stopped her with a look. Criticizing someone’s cuisine is taboo.
Across from me sat Garsche, smirking. His guards and aides behind him were also watching, waiting for my reaction.
Finally fresh sashimi after so long, and yet why did it have to be under this much pressure…?

I drizzled a little dressing over a slice of the white fish and brought it to my mouth with a fork.
Hmm. The texture—similar to sea bream. Mild and easy to eat.
But ohh, it’s so good! I’m so glad I got reincarnated!

“Captain, are you okay?”

Monsa leaned in with curiosity rather than concern. I nodded while chewing.

“It’s good.”
“You sure you’re not forcing yourself?”
“No.”

Just, let me eat in peace.
Garsche and his men were staring at me in disbelief, but I didn’t care.

Still, the carpaccio-like dressing felt a bit weak in flavor. This dressing is a bit too thin for me,
Sashimi, obviously, goes with soy sauce.
I rummaged through my coat and pulled out a small ceramic bottle I’d brought with me.
I’m sorry, chef. I’m grateful for your dish, but today I really want to eat sashimi the right and proper way.
And that’s why I came prepared with my own bottle of soy sauce.

But Garsche immediately caught sight of it, his expression sharp.

“Wait. What’s that?”

His guards instantly tensed, hands on their curved blades and daggers.
In response, my werewolves stood without words.
Crap. That might’ve been careless of me. My sashimi craving got the better of me.

“Everyone calm down. It’s just seasoning. I want to try a little with this dish.”

I uncorked the bottle and poured a few drops of dark liquid into a small plate.
The tension eased slightly at my action, though now I was being stared at for a different reason.

I speared another piece of sashimi and dipped its edge lightly on the sauce.
And then I eat it.
Ahh, yes… This is it. Yup. This is it.
There is only one thing I can say: This is IT.
I’m so glad I’m alive

I was having the best time of my life, and yet everyone in the room looked creepied out by me.
Well, this is rather embarrassing.
Here I was, being entertained at a negotiation meeting, and instead of focusing on diplomacy, I was having a transcendent soy sauce moment.
I felt slightly ashamed. But I couldn’t stop eating.

“Sorry—could I get another plate, without the dressing?”
“Uh-huh… sure, I guess.”

Garsche glanced between me and the sauce several times before asking,

“I’ve never seen that sauce before. What is it?”
“It’s made from fermented beans. In Lüenheit, we sweeten it and use it as a glaze for skewered meat.”
“And you’re putting that on fish?”

I couldn’t exactly say “because I’m Japanese,” so I made something up.

“It removes the smell of meat and brings out the flavor. Works on fish too.”
“Can I taste it?”
“Go ahead.”

Garsche dipped a silver spoon into the sauce, sniffed carefully, then dropped a tiny bit onto his palm and licked it.
His guards watched anxiously as he nodded several times and finally spoke.

“Sell it to me. This stuff’s worth gold.”

Before I could say anything, Mao smoothly cut in.

“Shall we establish a supply route for you, Lord Garsche?”
“Absolutely. I want every restaurant under my banner to stock it. It’d mix well into dressings, and work for simmered or grilled dishes too.”
“I’ll make the arrangements right away.”

Looks like they’ll handle the business side themselves, meanwhile I’ll just enjoy my sashimi a bit longer.
But now I start missing wasabi too.
I’ll have to find some next time.