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The Adventurers’ Guild Headquarters had been given an elegant makeover with white decorative tiles, designed to blend harmoniously with its surroundings. However, no matter how much it dressed up, at its core, it remained the stronghold of an armed organization.

Beneath the pretty surface, the guild lived up to the saying, a Buddha’s face on the outside, a demon’s heart within. Its walls, reinforced with alchemically enhanced concrete, didn’t quite make it an impregnable fortress, but they could easily repel casual bombardments, magic attacks, or even hordes of B-rank monsters. Inside the walls, steel beams and iron plates further strengthened the structure, while dual-layered magical defense formations were inscribed on both the interior and exterior. Additionally, the red patterns adorning the decorative tiles—at first glance mere embellishments—were in fact a beast-repelling mixture infused with the blood of A-rank monsters.

Its construction was so sturdy that it resembled a frontline fortress or a tactical-grade bomb shelter—an excessive level of fortification for a nation’s capital. Officially, the guild was designed to act as a bulwark for Thera Maryth, a theocratic state whose central government possessed little more than token outer walls. In times of crisis, the guild was expected to serve as a defensive barrier—hence its location, deliberately distanced from the city center.

Of course, more practical reasons likely played a role as well: cheaper land prices and easier access for adventurers.

The VIP room on the third floor of this fortress-like building was secured with exceptional care. Shielded by thick walls, it lacked windows to prevent external surveillance, long-range attacks, or direct assaults.

That said, efforts had been made to keep its occupants from feeling too confined.

“♪～～♪～～♪♪”

Inside, a collection of vibrantly colored cages housed the exotic Organ Bird from the southern lands, their melodious songs filling the room. An ancient artifact, resembling a cluster of multifaceted crystals, emitted a soft rainbow-colored glow—both sights and sounds carefully arranged to soothe and entertain visitors.

Shifting one’s gaze upward, the high ceiling—designed to make one forget they were indoors—was illuminated by the brilliant glow of enchanted light fixtures. Thanks to the effects of some magical device, the air remained perpetually fresh and at a comfortable temperature, gently enveloping the body.

The spacious room was adorned with a green carpet, potted ornamental plants, and an array of ancient artworks and crafts befitting the Adventurers’ Guild. It was, in every sense, a place of utmost refinement and hospitality.

For the average person, such an elegant space might feel intimidating. However, for those of sufficient social standing to be admitted here, it should have been a comfortable and welcoming environment. Normally, that is.

At present, however, the atmosphere in the room was anything but. The air was thick with tension, sharp and oppressive—like the setting of one of those notorious high-pressure job interviews one heard rumors about.

The primary source of this stifling atmosphere, responsible for nearly ninety percent of it, was a girl in a dress who was currently seething with rage.

“If that chef is out of commission, then bring another one! Or come up with an alternative cooking method! Is this guild truly so inflexible that it cannot even manage that much?!”

“W-Well, you see, the only people capable of making that dish are the one who invented it—Saintess Snow—or Sage Holiday, the proprietor of The Dwarven Apple Pavilion…”

Opposite the fuming Lady Simonetta, the deputy guildmaster maintained a thoroughly deferential stance, doing his utmost to placate her.

From time to time, he cast glances around the room, asking for aid. Unless he was actually attempting to flirt—an act that, in this situation, would be so absurd it might warrant a twisted kind of admiration—he was likely sending out desperate SOS signals.

And yet, either oblivious or simply unwilling to mediate, Eliza remained entirely detached from the affair, serenely sipping her tea as if none of it concerned her.

“Um—”
“Stay out of this, outsider!”

The very moment I mustered the courage to speak up, I was met with a glare brimming with hostility—much like a cat about to be dragged into a bath. It was painfully obvious that any unnecessary interjection on my part would only add fuel to the fire.

With that in mind, all I could do was press my hands together in silent apology from across the table.

The deputy guildmaster, on the other hand, looked up toward the heavens with an expression less like a forlorn puppy and more like a wild boar moments before slaughter. But somehow, he managed to cling to reality and weakly attempted a rebuttal.

“W-Well, of course, we’ve already approached other chefs about this. However, it seems that the secret lies in how the meat is salted during the initial preparation stage. If you simply sprinkle salt on it, it just dissolves…”
“Salt doesn’t work? Then just use sugar instead.”

At once, Lady Simonetta fired back with an astonishingly… no, uniquely innovative rebuttal, as quick as lightning.

“ “ “No, no, no, no!” ” ”

As if in perfect harmony, the deputy guildmaster, Sir Simon, and I all simultaneously voiced our protests.

That’s basically the same saying as “If there is no bread, let them eat cake” in all the worst ways. If left unchecked, she might very well squander the people’s taxes like water and end up at the guillotine someday.

…Is the Aulanthia Frontier County truly going to be alright?

Actually… This is a wild thought, but could she have been the one who killed Syltianna (me)? If that’s the case, then wouldn’t this just be settling an old score in a distant land—wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable to take her down right here and now? Maybe I could just say it’s an act of self-defense or even vengeance (for myself), surely that argument would hold up?

“It’s common knowledge at this point, but whether you sprinkle salt or sugar, slugs will dissolve all the same, so it’s meaningless.”

I added this little tidbit as a random fact. Well, I can’t say for sure whether the slugs in this world’s particular region behave the same way, but if they dissolve in salt, they’d likely dissolve in sugar too. (Technically, it just dehydrates them, but still.)

“Oh my, as expected of you, Clara. You certainly have a wealth of… earthly knowledge. Let me guess—when you were a child, you must have torn the legs off helpless insects, crushed pill bugs with stones, or maybe even stuck firecrackers up a frog’s—”

Before I could finish speaking, Eliza—who had been pretending not to care—suddenly cut in with an exaggerated shudder, painting a disturbingly vivid picture of the kind of cruel games mischievous boys might play.

Excuse me!? I would never do such things! My childhood was perfectly normal—I read picture books, played fruit basket, and—wait. Was that from my past life or this one? And why does Eliza sound so oddly familiar with these things? Could she be speaking from experience? Or is this just standard behavior for young girls in this world?

Either way, our little digression (if you could call it that) seemed to have irritated Lady Simonetta, who scowled in displeasure. But on the other hand, it bought the Deputy Guildmaster a brief reprieve, allowing him to regain at least a sliver of his composure.

“Even if we accept the request, and we will certainly do our best, I must ask for your understanding, Lady Simonetta—we cannot guarantee results that will meet your expectations.”
“Hmph. You can’t even secure a single competent chef? And this is supposed to be the Holy Capital? In contrast, our duchy boasts only the finest culinary masters, carrying the legacy of the thousand-year-old Graviol Empire. A challenge like this would be dealt with in an instant.”

Then why not just ask one of your top-class chefs to do it?

Everyone in the room thought it, but of course, Lady Simonetta remained completely oblivious to the unspoken retorts. Instead, as if struck by a brilliant idea, she clapped her hands together with a loud pop and piled on yet another absurd demand.

“Oh, I know! If that so-called Sage Holiday is useless, then why not summon the dish’s creator—this ‘Saintess Snow’ person—and have her provide guidance? The guild can issue a request, or even put an ad in the paper if necessary. Like I said before, I don’t care about the cost or conditions—just get it done.”
“ “You’re being completely unreasonable!!!” ”

Translator’s note:

The proverb author uses here is 江戸の敵を長崎で討つ which translates to “Taking Revenge for an Edo enemy in Nagasaki,” with the meaning of “settling a grudge on someone in a different contest.” An easy example:

Steve defeats Andy in baseball
Andy takes revenge by defeating him in soccer

Another meaning of the idiom is “to hit someone where they least expect it” and “to take revenge in an unlikely place.” An easy example:

Steve picks on Andy
Andy takes revenge by marrying Steve’s mother

There’s no clear origin for the phrase, but Umegaki Minoru (楳垣実) theorizes that it came from an incident during Bunsei Era (1818-1830) about craftsmen from Osaka showing off their basket weaving skills in Edo, belittling the local craftsmen. In response, craftsmen from Nagasaki avenged their Edo brethren by showing off their own basket weaving skills.