We stepped completely out of the Commerce Guild, the heavy glass doors clicking shut behind us as we returned to the busy, soot-tinged air of the industrial sector. Just as expected, the brilliant midday sun beat down mercilessly on the cobblestones, but the invisible, humming shimmer of Elicia's high-tier healing magic instantly enveloped me. I stood entirely unbothered, my massive crimson blood wings absorbing the golden light safely without a single sting of pain.
As we began walking down the wide avenue toward Minting Lane, Elicia tilted her silver-haired head, her sharp crimson eyes fixed on the heavy woven basket resting on my forearm.
"You know, little Ren, Where exactly did you get this adobo thing? I've studied the culinary registries of the entire continent, from the high elven capitals to the desert kingdoms, and I know for a fact this dish doesn't exist anywhere in this world." Elicia spoke up, her voice laced with a highly analytical, curious tone.
A bead of sweat nearly formed down my spine. I kept my single jade-green eye fixed ahead, my expression remaining a perfect, unreadable deadpan. I absolutely did not want to fully explain the complex metrics of my past life in another universe; trying to explain a modern world filled with skyscrapers, technology, and an entirely different history would be a massive logistical nightmare, and it was simply too hard to believe.
Instead, I decided to engineer a highly plausible, thoroughly human excuse.
"Well, A few weeks ago, I was attempting to analyze and replicate your signature beef stew recipe. However, during the seasoning phase, I encountered a series of accidental adjustments. I poured in a significant amount of soy sauce, a heavy splash of fermented vinegar, and a variety of other local aromatic spices. I originally called this culinary calculation an abomination... or adobo for short." I began, my quiet voice carrying its usual calm, calculated rhythm.
Elicia stopped dead in her tracks, blinking at me in absolute, utter disbelief before a beautiful, melodious laugh erupted from her lips. She shook her head, her hand coming up to gently cover her mouth as she smiled.
"Well, mistakes can certainly lead to the most extraordinary things! I think a legendary dish was born because my little sister completely ruined a perfectly good batch of my beef stew. I suppose I can forgive your terrible kitchen coordination if the result tastes that incredible!" big sister giggled, looping her arm right back through mine as we resumed our walk.
I let out a soft, relaxed hum, a warm, genuine smile gracing my face as my crimson wings gave a happy, definitive flutter. The secret of my homeland was perfectly safe, and our journey to the abandoned kitchen of Lot 42 was officially underway.
We finally arrived at Lot 42, tucked deep into the humming heart of Minting Lane. The facade of the building was secured by heavy, rusted iron chains wrapped around the front doors like a metal spiderweb. I reached into the pocket of my forest-green kirtle, pulled out the heavy key Harold had given me, and slotted it into the padlock. With a sharp twist and a loud, metallic clack, the old lock snapped open.
I pushed the heavy wooden doors inward, and a massive cloud of ancient dust instantly billowed out into the fresh air.
As the air cleared, Elicia and I stepped inside, and I stood in a perfect, unmoving deadpan. The sheer structural deficit of the room was staggering. To call this place a "restaurant" right now was a massive overstatement. The entire room was filled to the brim with decades of accumulated dust, spiderwebs, and literal piles of trash. Better yet, the wooden chairs and tables weren't just old… they had been completely smashed to splinters by random local street kids who had clearly been using the abandoned building as a playground.
The walls were completely covered in peeling paint and chaotic, colorful graffiti letters scrawled by the wandering youths. My massive crimson wings gave a sharp, twitch of irritation against my back, and I looked down at the heavy basket of adobo ingredients on my arm, realizing the logistical equation for this renovation had just tripled in complexity.
"Well, It seems Harold's definition of a 'bit run-down' is highly inaccurate." I murmured, my quiet voice echoing through the ruined dining hall as a very human, exhausted sigh escaped my lips.
Elicia stood in the center of the ruined room, her arms crossed as she slowly scanned the graffiti-covered walls. Instead of being discouraged, a brilliant, energetic smile spread across her face.
"Well, little Ren, It looks like we have a bit of a battle on our hands. Let's clean this up, shall we?" she chuckled, rolling up the fine silk sleeves of her walking dress.
"Understood," I replied in my usual deadpan.
I carefully set my basket of precious adobo ingredients on the one table that wasn't completely smashed. Foraging through a dark utility closet in the back, I managed to unearth an ancient, slightly balding broom, a cracked dustpan, a rusty mop bucket, and a scrub brush. I walked back out and handed the broom to Elicia, looking up at her with my single jade-green eye.
"I will handle the heavy lifting, the mopping, and scrubbing the floors, You, big sister... since you are significantly taller than me, you will be stationed at the ceiling."
Elicia let out a melodious laugh, raising the broom like a sword.
"Aye, aye, captain! High altitude cleaning duty it is!"
With our operational roles established, the chaos began. I went into full-scale demolition mode. Grunting with very human effort, I began hauling the splintered remains of the wooden chairs and tables out the front door, tossing them with a satisfying crash into a massive metal dumpster sitting in the alleyway. Back inside, I got down on my hands and knees, scrubbing at the layers of dirt and dust until the floorboards actually started to show through.
Meanwhile, Elicia was having the time of her life on ceiling duty. She whirled the broom around like a magical staff, swatting down massive, ancient cobwebs that had probably been there since the city was founded. At one point, a giant, dusty spider dropped down right onto her shoulder. She didn't even flinch; she just casually flicked it out the window with a cheerful, "Shoo! No loitering!"
After a frantic, sweaty, and highly comedic thirty minutes, we both stood back and panted. The dust was gone, the cobwebs were history, and the floors were so clean you could see your reflection in them.
But the room was completely empty and looked incredibly bland. There was nothing left inside but us, our adobo basket, and bare walls covered in faded graffiti.
Elicia leaned heavily on her broom, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she looked around.
"Well, it's definitely clean, Ren. But we have a minor logistical crisis... we currently have zero tables and zero chairs. Our customers are going to have to eat your wonderful adobo while sitting cross-legged on the floor like monks."
I smiled, a playful, thoroughly human glint in my eye.
"That would definitely, and I mean, definitely, impact our customer. Don't worry. I know a local carpenter in this district who makes excellent commercial furniture. Let's go pay him a visit."
"Perfect! And while we're out, let's pick up some nice, vibrant curtains. We need to add some proper color to this depressing gray room! And, well..."
She winked at me playfully, tapping the tip of my nose.
"Before my continuous magic spell runs out later today, those heavy curtains will be perfect for blocking out the windows and protecting my favorite little vampire from the afternoon sunlight."
We stepped out of our newly cleaned building, locking the heavy wooden doors behind us, and headed straight down the bustling avenue of the industrial district in search of a furniture maker. Since this was the core manufacturing sector of the capital, carpenters, blacksmiths, and lumber yards were incredibly common here. You couldn't walk ten paces without hearing the sharp scrape of a hand plane or the sweet, raw scent of freshly cut pine and oak drifting from open-air workshops.
Elicia and I walked side by side, her continuous white-light magic keeping me completely insulated from the heavy midday heat, my massive crimson blood wings swishing softly against my green kirtle with every step.
It didn't take us long to spot a massive, open-front workshop with a wide wooden sign hanging over the entrance. Stacked neatly along the perimeter were towering piles of beautiful, freshly sanded wooden chairs and sturdy, dark oak tables that looked built to survive an infantry assault.
An older, burly carpenter with thick, calloused hands and a leather apron was currently wiping down a workbench. As we approached, he turned his head, his eyes widening to maximum capacity as he took in my uncovered face, my sharp fangs, and the powerful blood wings catching the bright daylight.
Before Elicia or I could even introduce ourselves, the man dropped his rag, a massive, genuinely warm grin breaking across his rugged face.
"Well, I'll be damned! Wait... you're the legendary vampire hunter, Eirene! Man, it is absolutely fantastic to see you here in the 1st District! The morning papers were screaming about you, but seeing those wings in person is something else. What can this humble wood-chopper do for a local hero today?" the carpenter bellowed happily, wiping his hands on his apron as he stepped forward
I stood there in the workshop, my single jade-green eye narrowing as I stared intensely at the stacks of furniture. My brain immediately kicked into hyper-drive, running high-speed culinary calculations.
During those frantic forty minutes of scrubbing graffiti and battling ancient dust bunnies, I had thoroughly mapped out the layout of our future restaurant. It was a classic, cozy abandoned tavern setup, roughly 120 square meters of prime real estate. To maximize our seating efficiency without causing a logistical traffic jam for people carrying hot bowls of adobo, the math was incredibly clear: I needed exactly 13 sturdy wooden tables, and with four chairs per table, that brought our total asset requirement to 52 chairs.
I took a deep breath, looked the burly carpenter dead in the eye, and let my flat deadpan dissolve into an earnest, thoroughly human smile.
"Sir, my layout metrics require exactly 13 dark oak tables and 52 matching chairs," I announced, my crimson wings giving a sharp, rhythmic flutter of anticipation.
The carpenter blinked at the rapid-fire order, then threw his head back and let out a booming, joyful laugh that rattled the loose sawdust on his workbench.
"Thirteen tables and fifty-two chairs? Down for a massive feast, eh? Tell you what, Eirene. No worries at all! You're a local hero after all, and you cleared out that massive bounty for the crown. Consider it a hero's discount! I'll give you the whole lot for half the price… let's call it an even 20 silver coins." He clapped his thick hands together, leaning against a pile of lumber with a genuinely warm grin.
Twenty silver coins for a full restaurant's worth of premium industrial-grade furniture? My jaw nearly dropped. That was an absolute steal.
"Thank you so much, Your generosity greatly optimizes our initial startup budget." I said quickly, a bright, relieved smile breaking across my face as I bowed my head
Elicia stepped up beside me, her crimson eyes sparkling with absolute delight as she fished the silver coins out of her purse, placing them into the carpenter's calloused palm with a cheerful clink.
"You are an absolute lifesaver, sir! Our customers' backsides will thank you for generations to come."
I turned back to the friendly woodworker, pointing a finger down the street toward Minting Lane.
"Please deliver the entire shipment to Lot number 42. We have an abandoned tavern to transform."
"You got it, Boss! They'll be at your doorstep before your paint is even dry!"