Chapter 57: To the North (2)
The door opened. Inside, faces tinted by the dim yellow pub lights all turned to look at Crockta. They were intrigued by the orc’s appearance but quickly turned their focus back to their conversations. It was a shabby old pub, and this scene resembled Van Gogh’s The Potato Eaters.
Crockta sat at the bar table. The owner standing behind the bar gave Crockta a look as if asking what he wanted.
Crockta replied, “Cream spaghetti.”
He had spoken quietly, but his low voice rang throughout the tiny tub. At the mention of cream spaghetti, all of the customers looked at Crockta again, their dismal gazes focusing on him bleakly.
Then they burst into laughter.
“An orc eating cream spaghetti... What a clown.”
“I thought cream spaghetti was something only women ate? Hahahah.”
“Why don’t you order strawberry juice and kiwi parfait while you are at it? Haha.”
Crockta’s eyebrows twitched with annoyance.
The pub owner also smirked as if he found Crockta’s order absurd. Then he went to the kitchen and melted some butter in a frypan on low heat, poured chicken stock into it, and rapidly stirred the contents of the pan so it wouldn't congeal. He also prepared a hundred and sixty grams of spaghetti noodles, placed them in a pot with three times the amount of water, and salted the noodles while he cooked bacon on another frypan. It was a standard cream spaghetti recipe, but Crockta was impressed by the owner’s precise measurements.
While waiting for his food, Crockta gave the customers laughing at him the side-eye. The customers were eating a heavy pork dish with hard liquor. They would take a huge bite out of the chunk of meat and then suck their oily fingers. As they loudly chewed with mouths full of meat, they looked at Crockta with arrogant eyes. Then they took swigs of liquor to wash all of it down.
Crockta couldn’t help but acknowledge them. They were real men.
Crockta shrank from the embarrassment of ordering cream spaghetti at this gathering of real men. Only traitors blinded by romance ordered cream spaghetti on fancy dates!
Before long, the food he had ordered was served. After Crockta received a spoon and fork neatly wrapped up in a napkin, he stopped the owner from leaving.
“Wait,” said Corckta.
“...?” The owner looked at him with eyes full of contempt as if he was a nuisance.
Crockta said, “Chopsticks.”
“...Oh.” The owner’s expression changed. “Chopsticks...”
The tension at the pub relaxed a bit with Crockta’s declaration. The customers and owner now seemed to acknowledge him as a passable man rather than a loser.
“I thought he was the type of dweeb to twirl spaghetti with a fork into his spoon.”
“He just has a Western palette.”
“I also occasionally crave greasy food. Haha.”
They nodded their heads approvingly as they each ate a whole boiled egg and chewed loudly. Crockta slurped his noodles loudly as well to go along with their table manners. He then chewed on his noodles and ordered a glass of whiskey. He immediately downed the glass of whiskey the owner handed him.
“Ahhh,” said Crockta satisfactorily after finishing his beer.
He now seamlessly blended in as a member of the ‘Oppa, Where Are You Going?’ pub.
“Oh, god,” exclaimed Crockta with the realization that he had been swept away by the atmosphere.
Remembering that he had a mission to fulfill, Crockta took another glance at the piece of paper Derek had given him.
[Enter the pub and order cream spaghetti. Then request chopsticks instead of a fork and slurp the spaghetti noodles with the chopstick. Afterward, make sure to leave a strand of spaghetti and make an inverted triangle on the table with it. Then they will approach you.]
“...!”
It was a disaster. Crockta had already finished his cream spaghetti. His hand refused to move, but he raised it forcefully.
The owner looked at Crockta again.
He came closer and placed a hand on Crockta’s shoulder, “Hey, manly orc, are you gonna get down to business? How many drinks do you want?”
Crockta whispered, “Cr...”
“Cr?”
“Cream spaghetti... one more please,” said Crockta with much hesitation.
The owner’s eyes turned stone cold at Crockta’s order. “...”
Crockta lowered his eyes as the owner went back inside the kitchen without a word. The customers around Crockta shot him looks of disdain while shaking their heads back and forth. Crockta couldn’t help but stoop his head out of shame. He vowed that once his interaction with the Information Guild was over, he would order a whole roast suckling pig to devour. Crockta proceeded to slurp down his fresh plate of cream spaghetti with his chopsticks. When he was almost done, he made an inverted triangle on the table with the last remaining strand of spaghetti.
The owner’s expression changed when he discovered the inverted triangle on the table. He approached Crockta and slammed the table with a pang. “Hey, orc.”
Crockta looked at the owner, who was gesturing to him.
“Come here,” said the owner.
He opened a door at a corner of the pub and went inside. Crockta stared at him with a perplexed face and then followed him. The customers jeered at Crockta.
“What did you do, you dweeb? Are you going to get beaten up?”
“Don’t cry after getting beaten up, haha.”
“I will buy you cream spaghetti afterward as consolation. With strawberry juice, haha!”
Crockta once again vowed inwardly to eat the manliest meal possible that the pork chop on their plates could never compare as he entered the room in the corner.
The room was much wider than he had expected. The pub owner groped around the floor and opened a trap door with stairs leading to the basement. It was pitch black inside. The owner glanced over at Crockta and then headed downstairs.
Inside the depths of the basement was a room that resembled an interrogation room. Two chairs faced each other with a table in between them. A lamp lit up the interior dimly.
Crockta and the pub owner sat down in the chairs.
Suddenly, Crockta asked, “Why in the world did you use a pair of panties as the guild’s sign?”
“It’s our conviction.”
“Panties?”
“It’s the Information Guild’s conviction that we will get all the information you need, down to the color of someone’s underwear.”
“...”
“There are branches of the Information Guild that hang regular inverted triangles because they are too embarrassed to hang panties, but I respect tradition.”
It was bizarre, but there was a kind of logic to it. Crockta nodded in acknowledgement.
“Anyway, I came to buy information,” said Crockta.
“What kind of information do you want, Crockta?”
Crockta raised his eyes in surprise.
This man already knew his name.
The man grinned and continued, “So, you want to chase after the remaining members of the Haedong Balhae clan?”
“I see! Amazing. It seems I can trust the Information Guild,” said Crockta.
“Regarding the Haedong Balhae clan, I have some information that costs twenty gold coins and other information that costs thirty gold coins,” said the owner.
“What’s the difference?”
“You will find out when you hand over the money.”
Crockta stared at the owner as he crossed his arms and then nodded in agreement. “I will go with the more expensive option.”
“You have to pay right at this moment,” said the owner.
“...Here.” Crockta took out the money. He had brought cash just in case, but he hadn’t expected to spend thirty gold coins on the spot. Now, he didn’t have much money left. “Okay, now tell me the difference between the two.”
“For twenty gold coins, we provide the information we currently have, and for thirty, we will provide information continuously as we obtain it.”
“So you are saying?” asked Crockta.
“We don’t know their exact location yet, but they are also on our radar, and we’ve been keeping an eye on them. As we continue to gain information about them, we will share the information with you.”
Crockta shook his head. “How can I trust you guys? What if you fail?”
“Fail...”
The pub owner rose from his seat and headed toward the wall behind the chair. There was a small hole inside the wall where he reached in. Crockta heard a rustling sound. Someone seemed to be moving behind the wall. When the owner pulled out his hand, he had a piece of paper with him. There had to be Information Guild members behind the wall.
The owner handed the piece of paper to Crockta.
“Luin,” said the owner.
“Luin?” wondered Crockta.
“The new name of Grom, the man you are chasing after.”
Crockta’s face stiffened at the mention of Grom’s name. He looked at the piece of paper. It had the name ‘Luin’ and information about his appearance and his track record so far.
“Did you know that those cursed by the stars can change their appearances?” asked the owner.
“...”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. They sometimes lose all of their abilities and turn up with completely altered appearances. The orc Grom who betrayed Lenox and the orcs is now human. It was hard for us to believe at first as well. Being cursed by the stars is a really odd phenomenon.”
?Crockta just listened to him quietly. NPCs were coming to understand players more and more. He was surprised that the Information Guild had seen through everything. Crockta had strange feelings about Elder Lord again. Were NPCs truly just artificial intelligence within a game? The characters he had met were so lifelike; were they truly just fabrications created for the sake of human entertainment?
“Head to the temple of the fallen god.” Gordon’s voice came alive in his head again.
Crockta felt a strange urge to head to the temple of the fallen god.
“Okay, I believe you. In that case, I will buy another piece of information from you guys,” said Crockta.
“What kind?” asked the owner.
“Do you know about the temple of the fallen god?” asked Crockta.
The owner looked at Crockta with a surprised expression. “Temple of the fallen god... We don’t have much information on it either. Our influence doesn’t extend to the north.”
The north was a harsh place where ogres roamed the terrain, and wyverns flew in the skies.
“We know its approximate location. It’s not information that’s difficult to obtain. We can get it anywhere. We will just give you the information for free,” said the owner.
“Thank you.”
“Are you planning to go to the north?”
Crockta nodded.
The man swept a glance over Crockta. With tattoos all over his body, a muscular build, and a huge greatsword, Crockta had an appearance that did not fall short of the rumors circulating about him. He seemed qualified to go to the north.
“I hope the information on the Haedong Balhae clan will be ready once I return from the north,” said Crockta.
The owner grinned. “Understood. I’ve already sent the information we currently have to the PO box at the Maillard branch of the Blacksmith Company, so take a look when you have a chance.”
The Information Guild had already known that Crockta had opened an account with the Blacksmith Company even though it had happened that very day. There had to be a secret agent from the Information Guild within the Blacksmith Company. It could even be Stella’s intern.
Crockta nodded and got up from his seat.
“I recommend obtaining more information at Quantes before heading to the north,” said the owner.
Quantes was a city travelers had to pass through to get to the north. Crockta noted down the name ‘Quantes’ in his mind.
Crockta headed back up the stairs and exited the secret room with the owner. The customers from earlier were still sitting at the pub. They looked back and forth between Crockta and the owner with intrigued eyes.
“What, you guys didn’t get into a fistfight?”
“He seems unscathed.”
Crockta said to the Information Guild member, who was also known as the pub owner, “Hey.”
“...?” The owner gave Crockta a look.
He seemed to be signaling to Crockta to not divulge any information about the Information Guild, but Crockta wasn’t planning to ask about that anyway.
“Can you make a whole roasted suckling pig?”
“...!”
The customers became speechless at Crockta’s question. The owner looked at Crockta with surprised eyes and then beamed.
“Can you handle it?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Crockta looked at the customers who had been laughing at him and said, “I’m not like those dweebs who can only eat a few bites of pork.”
“...!” The expressions of the other customers crumbled, but they couldn’t make any excuses for themselves.
The pub owner went into the kitchen and prepared a whole roasted suckling pig. There was barbeque equipment for roasting pigs and a ventilation system inside the kitchen. The owner put the suckling pig through a skewer and began roasting it, filling the pub with the smell of roasted pork.
“Hmm... it’s time for us to leave.”
“Enjoy the food, orc.”
The customers downed the rest of their liquor and tried to leave the pub as if taking off in flight.
However, Crockta called after them, “Hey.”
“Hmm...?”
They turned to look at Crockta, who pointed his chin toward the kitchen and said, “Won’t you join me?”
“...!” They stopped in their tracks.
This orc was a true man.
They had laughed at him and told him to drink strawberry juice, but he was a real man who didn’t pay attention to such insults. He had shaken off the happenings earlier and surprised them with a bold invitation. If they decided to refuse the invitation, they wouldn’t be real men.
“This... We have lost.”
“You are a real man, orc brother.”
“You are a true alpha male, hahaha.”
Crockta downed his liquor and ate the roasted pig with them. Later, the pub owner joined them, and a big drinking party took place. It was a communion of men!
This was the last meal Crockta enjoyed before departing in search of the temple of the fallen god.
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