Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking [11]
"Sorry, sorry! I just got a little lost on the road of life."
Hearing his excuse, the girl, already well-acquainted with his personality, couldn't help but want to sock him.
Here was this talented storyteller, perpetually unserious, the type whose true fans would be disillusioned to meet in person. And he'd kept a lady waiting in the chilly evening for thirty whole minutes! Her knees were practically frozen!
Yet when she remembered that earlier glimpse of him looking uncharacteristically lost, as if he'd forgotten where "home" was, her frustration quickly melted.
It was the first time she'd ever seen carefree, wind-like Venti wearing such a weary, faraway expression. Something about it made her want to comfort him—No, what was she even thinking?!
Blushing faintly, Pela hurriedly cleared her throat, trying to stay composed.
"Fine. I'll let it go this time. But make sure you're on time next time, alright? Let's not repeat this."
"Oh! You've just said it—the very words that all friends say to each other. Guess that means it's my turn to lighten the mood for you!"
Venti leaned in just close enough to bridge the gap between friendly and familiar, holding out his hand like a true gentleman inviting her to dance.
"So, go ahead—who's the scoundrel who dared ruin my dear friend's day?"
"...Hmph. Certain 'scoundrels' might just include someone right in front of me," Pela teased, looking away to hide a small smile but not hesitating to hand over the book she was holding.
"Ah, it was my fault. I should've never made Sister Pela mad—!"
Venti immediately looked downcast, eyes big and guilty. He grinned when he caught the slight flush on Pela's face, though she huffed and puffed in a charming pout, cheeks puffed like a small, indignant hamster.
"Keep it up, and I won't let you read the sequel to Snowy City Adventures! Got it?"
She made a show of snatching back the book in his hands.
"Oh, please, no! Stopping someone mid-book is something not even a demon would do!"
Venti shook his head quickly, hugging the novel to his chest like a precious treasure. The actual title, Adventures in the Land of Snow, was a forbidden book in Belobog—no longer sold, though the fans remained ardent.
The fans had given it a nickname, City of Snow and Rain, inspired by Chapter Two's "Frozen City." Since using the real title would draw too much attention, they'd invented this code name.
The book was still warm from the girl's hands, faintly smelling of the paper's sweet scent—utterly delightful.
Venti often enjoyed others' stories, not just as a reader but to gather tales he could pass along. Of course, his penchant for introducing new bestsellers had dealt a few blows to the market here and there.
But Adventures in the Land of Snow was Pela's beloved. She was an unwavering fan, dedicated to preserving its legacy. In fact, she could be called a "pure-hearted book lover," with connections to source rare finds, even banned books, without fail.
Each time a new installment dropped, she'd buy a handful, then stash some away or hand them out to new converts to the fandom.
Which is why Venti frequently borrowed out-of-print stories from her collection. Pela never minded, even inviting him along to fans-only gatherings.
The timing was loose, the location was never certain, and those who attended came from all across Belobog—who knew if the person sitting beside you at dinner was one of them?
And as much as Venti loved listening to stories, Pela was equally fascinated by his.
Where Adventures in the Land of Snow explored vivid fantasy and adventure in an imaginative world, Venti's tales were often achingly real, his descriptions of otherworldly sights so precise they felt within reach.
Pela's finely tuned information radar pinged the first time she met Venti, keeping her cat-like curiosity sharp each time he shared one of his stories.
Because of her job, sometimes she'd have to step out early, missing part of his storytelling, and it never failed to leave her feeling regretful.
But now that they'd struck up a friendship, all she had to do was ask him to fill in the blanks. Otherwise, she'd lie awake wondering.
What started as "book buddies" quickly evolved into a close friendship, and to outsiders, they looked very much like two young sweethearts.
While Pela, or Pelageya Sergeyevna as her full name went, couldn't deny the occasional thought, the oblivious windborne bard ahead of her beckoned with a grin, breaking her reverie.
"Come on, Miss Pela! The night's young, the air is cool! Let's make our way to good wine, good stories, and a bright tomorrow—!"
…
Rock-Grilled Scorpilizard Grill
This was one of Belobog's Upper City eateries, offering casual food and drink.
Their specialty was the scorpilizard, a staple Lower City dish.
True to its name, the scorpilizard was a burrowing amphibian that lived around the underground waterways. It had feathered scales that were white-pink, nearly translucent, and its eyesight had evolved poorly, though its hearing and sense of smell were sharp.
Naturally, while biologists were intrigued by its physiology, most Belobogians—especially those from the Lower City—simply knew it as a reliable source of protein, with a taste that was not unlike chicken.
Few, if any, Belobogians had ever actually tasted real chicken, but this didn't stop restaurant owners from touting the resemblance.
And so, while the meat may have had a faint resemblance, the owners marketed it as a "top-shelf" ingredient from the Lower City, promoting it as the kind of sought-after delicacy that had people lining up before the Great Frost.
With a small text disclaimer: similar in taste.
"Wanna sample the exclusive Lower City delicacy that took the city by storm before the Great Frost? Scorpilizard wings, two for 20,000 credits—this week only!"
Many had fallen for this very sales pitch.
And now, in a tucked-away corner of Rock-Grilled Scorpilizard Grill, Venti and Pela were seated with a plate of freshly grilled scorpilizard in front of them.
The aroma was enticing, though the unmistakably reptilian tail made it hard for Venti to associate it with poultry. Especially when he thought about what it must have looked like alive…
Let's just not think about it, he told himself with a shiver.