Chapter 214 ⤞ Forced Sales Are a Criminal Offense

"Is this the Hostess of Fertility?" He found himself standing outside a tavern, having arrived there without realizing it.

The tavern featured two or three outdoor café tables and chairs, lending it an elegant, leisurely atmosphere.

At this late hour, the outdoor seats were empty — no Adventurers sipping tea or coffee. Instead, the patrons had gathered inside, drinking heartily and creating a lively atmosphere.

The interior was bustling with diverse clientele. Elves, beast-folk, humans, and dwarves mingled together in an unusually peaceful scene, free from conflict or chaos.

Yet this harmony existed primarily within family groups rather than between the different races.

Like other taverns, the establishment boasted stone walls and stretched deep into its lot. With its expanded second floor, it stood as arguably the largest establishment in the area.

This made perfect sense — the Freya Familia watched over the place, and the proprietress herself was formerly the captain of the Freya Familia.

Such a distinguished person would never settle for anything less than impressive.

The Hostess of Fertility.

The establishment earned its name from the proprietress's practice of taking in disadvantaged women who preferred to keep their pasts private.

This explained the absence of male employees in the establishment.

He tugged at his hood and turned to leave. But before he could, a petite girl seized his arm.

"Wait-nya!"

"Eh?" Though he instinctively tried to break free, her grip held firm — as if she'd caught a fugitive.

He looked at the cat-eared girl who'd dashed out from the shop. She pressed against him with casual familiarity, seemingly unconcerned about the close contact.

Adam stood stunned.

The cat-eared girl's face beamed with an enthusiastic smile — not the practiced smile of a server, but one radiating genuine warmth and cheer.

Such personalities typically served as the establishment's natural mood-makers.

However, her subsequent actions left him less than pleased.

"Customer, party of one! Right this way!"

The cat-eared girl pulled on his arm, gracefully leading him back into the shop while calling out to her colleagues to welcome their new guest.

"Hmm???" He gave her a questioning look that clearly demanded an explanation.

The cat-eared girl grinned cheerfully, "Customer, you've been standing outside for so long — weren't you wanting to come in? Since you couldn't make up your mind, let me help you inside-nya."

The [Perception Blocking Cloak] reduced presence, but didn't eliminate it completely. Anyone doing something particularly noticeable could still be spotted.

Unlike the constant stream of passersby on the street, Adam's white-cloaked figure lingering at the entrance had been quite conspicuous. That's why when he tried to leave, the cat-eared girl had darted over and caught his shoulders.

Tch... Young lady, though you might think this behavior kind and considerate, you do realize this counts as forced sales, right?

Let me tell you, forced sales can get you 5 to 15 days of detention. Don't think I won't take action just because you have powerful backing!

Despite his protests, he still followed the cat-eared girl inside.

He did have something to confirm, after all. Though he'd been hesitant before, her sudden intervention had helped him make up his mind.

"Please sit here-nya."

"Thank you." Following her lead, Adam took a seat in a secluded corner of the tavern.

The nearby tables were packed with adventurers, his being the only empty one. Tucked in the corner, he drew no attention once seated.

He adjusted his hood and settled into the chair, quietly listening to the conversations of nearby adventurers.

There wasn't much useful information — mostly boasting about lucky finds of rare materials, or tales of dungeon depths reached and abilities improved.

A few minutes later, the cat-eared girl returned with a large glass of juice, which she set before him along with a menu.

I see, is this the "serve juice so they have to order" marketing tactic? Combined with all the young and beautiful waitresses, no wonder business is so good.

...As if.

Shaking his head, he accepted the menu with both hands and began to order.

He was hungry. His stomach growled pitifully at the aromatic dishes, even though he'd already eaten quite a bit.

As he studied the menu, the cat-eared girl asked, "Customer, is this your first time at our establishment?"

"Yes, that's right." Adam continued browsing while asking, "How did Miss Cat know?"

The cat-eared girl feigned anger and said, "Miss Cat... I'm called Anya-nya."

"...I apologize for my rudeness, Miss Anya." He apologized helplessly to the overly familiar cat-girl, "How did you know? Have you memorized every customer who's visited the shop?"

"Just call me Anya." The cat-eared girl blinked and grinned, "Remember all the customers... that would be impossible with my memory-nya! But I have a special way of telling."

Adam raised an eyebrow, "A special way of telling?"

"That's right!" Anya puffed out her small chest proudly, "Every customer who comes here alone always chooses Mama Mia's daily special set menu."

She beamed with pride, as if this set menu was the greatest creation ever, while radiating absolute confidence in their tavern.

"..." Adam was speechless.

What kind of twisted logic was this?

She was clearly just trying to sell him the shop's signature dish.

"Ah, I see." He closed the menu and handed it to her, "Then following your suggestion, please bring me one daily special set menu."

"The customer catches on quick... and just call me Anya-nya!"

Anya's cat ears twitched with delight.

"I've received your order, please wait a moment-nya!" She skipped cheerfully toward the kitchen, no doubt pleased about earning another commission.

Rather than continue eavesdropping, he scanned the hall for a particular person, methodically searching the room.

Found her!

The gray-haired girl was attending to arriving customers. Like Anya, she wore a genuine smile, but unlike the cat-girl's familiarity, she maintained a proper professional distance.

Even so, she remained the tavern's most popular waitress.

After a brief glance, he casually shifted his gaze away. The whole process appeared perfectly natural.

Staring too long would draw attention — better to quietly finish his meal and leave.

However, sometimes fate has other plans — the harder you try to break free, the tighter its grip becomes.

That "rabbit", Bell, had arrived.

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