Hinata listened to my defense, looking a bit exasperated. “…Right.” She sighed, resigned. “With a skill, you could transport that stuff without altering it at all…and you have a lot of people in this nation who can handle the job. I just can’t believe you’re using all this for yourself, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.”
That sounded a bit rude to me, but ah well. I suppose I had answered Hinata’s question, but I didn’t really see what her problem was with it. If something’s available to use, why not use it?
“Well,” interrupted Luminus, “what is the harm in it, Hinata? No matter the story behind it, there is no doubting how delicious this all is. I, for one, am very impressed.”
She had a cup in her hand and looked to be well on her way, alcohol-wise, as she scarfed down another piece of tempura. She was grabbing them with her fingers but still somehow managed to look elegant doing it. Which was fine. If you weren’t offending anyone, you could eat any way you liked. You can’t force chopsticks on someone who has never seen them before.
And speaking of which, that was actually kind of a thorny problem. Benimaru and the other ogres could work with chopsticks just fine, and the monsters of Tempest had largely learned by watching us. This wasn’t the case for the merchants and adventurers who came from foreign lands. I was contemplating inviting nobility from across the world to build ourselves into a travel hot spot, so I wanted to be sure chopsticks remained an optional selection for them.
Along those lines, Luminus was proving an interesting research subject. You could use a knife and fork, a pair of chopsticks, or your fingers, and while hot food required chopsticks, she otherwise had no qualms about eating with her hands. Different types of food were eaten in different ways, after all, and there was no reason to put our visitors off by insisting on some “foreign” way of eating. Maybe it’s best to just say “Hey, we can eat this way, too,” then wait as the habit gradually takes hold.
“Do you like our offerings?” I asked Luminus.
“I do. Very much. The food is extraordinary—and the drink as well.”
The observation made me realize that Luminus was downing the alcohol at an alarming speed. Milim was pretty strong, but Luminus was a powerhouse, knocking back any cup offered alongside her tempura.
“Glad to hear. But try to go easy, okay? Too much isn’t good for you.”
“Fool. I am impervious to all poisons—alcohol is no danger to me. In fact, at the moment, I am trying my hardest to lessen the effect of Cancel Poison so I can get drunk off this!”
I suppose my warning was pointless. But “weakening” Cancel Poison?
“Y-you can do something like that?”
“Of course. Stop playing dumb.”
She must’ve thought I was kidding, but I insisted she teach me how that worked.
…
Oops. Sounds like Raphael is in a huff about something. Ignoring it, I followed Luminus’s instructions and attempted to shrink down my own resistances. The moment I did, I could feel the intoxication sneaking into my mind. Yes! Yes! This is what drunkenness feels like!
“Kwah-ha-ha-ha! You couldn’t even do that, Rimuru? I mastered that much eons ago!”
Veldora seemed proud of himself. I didn’t know where he practiced it, but he was now in a marvelous state of inebriation.
“Right!” I shouted. “Another round!”
“Yes. Let me join you.”
“Silly boys.” Luminus sniffed. “But if you two insist, I suppose I will have a refill as well.”
Now things were heating up. I could almost hear Shuna rolling her eyes as she said “Oh, Sir Rimuru…,” but she still grinned and poured out the drink. We were all much less formal now.
All the adult beverages we made locally were on offer, along with fresh water and as many ice cubes as you wanted. There was juice and tea available for the nondrinkers, too. Haruna was keeping Veldora’s cup full, while Louis did the same for Luminus. There was a drinking contest brewing between Benimaru, Shion, and Soei, as well as among the Lycanthropeers and between Arnaud and his fellow top paladin officers. Those paladins were pretty snooty at first, but once their commanding officer Arnaud began sampling all the wares on hand, they loosened up considerably. Some were now amicably chatting with Rigurd and the rest, and a few of them asked the waitstaff for more food.
One demonstrated interest in trying some of the food the monsters on hand were enjoying. Fritz was his name, I think, a Crusader commander alongside Arnaud and one of the Ten Great Saints. Nicer guy than I thought at first blush, I guess. Expressing an interest in what other people are eating is the first step toward understanding them. It was a nice sight to see.
But that was… I thought for a moment. The drink was starting to make it tough. He’s talking about that black rice, isn’t he?
This “black rice” was made using a type of plant raised on magicule water—the highly magical water found inside the Sealed Cave. I suggested trying that out as an experiment, and it resulted in rice that looked like an octopus squirted ink all over it. For someone like me, who enjoyed his rice hot, white, and fluffy, it looked absolutely gross—but it tasted good. Really good, in fact. It was also packed with nutrients, surprisingly, so we called the crop blackspell rice and moved into full production of it.
It was now a staple of Tempestian cuisine, but I was pretty sure there was some kind of issue with it I was
