Old man Rubelt showed me around the city in all kinds of ways, since I had supposedly just come up from the countryside.

Well, this city was not exactly the capital of the country I was in, so saying I had “come up to the capital” might have sounded a little weird. Still, I had come from the sticks to a big city, so close enough.

He showed me weapon shops that specialized in gear for C-rank and lower hunters, secondhand armor stores with plenty of hidden bargains, and even shops that sold healing medicine made from dungeon herbs, commonly known as potions.

He guided me through stores that handled everything a hunter needed to survive, and he even told me which ones were actually worth using.

On top of that, Rubelt seemed to know everyone. Everywhere we went, he chatted casually with clerks, customers, and random people passing through.

Thanks to him, I managed to make a few hunter acquaintances myself.

Some even told me, “Come to me if you ever run into trouble,” and handed me cheap potions.

At the very least, most of the people I met seemed to take a liking to me, and they were pretty kind about it.

The age of adulthood in this world had been lowered quite a bit.

Here, people became adults at fifteen.

Since I looked like someone who had only just become an adult, it was probably easier for the other hunters to sympathize with me.

That was one reason so many people warmed up to me. Though I figured the biggest reason was Rubelt being there with me.

While I was getting a taste of that warm, human kindness, he also taught me about the darker side of this world.

FR was one of the safest countries in this world, but even so, a country still needed a certain amount of underworld activity to keep functioning.

Even Japan, a relatively safe country, had self-employed businessmen known as yakuza, so I guessed every world and every country had organizations full of bastards and outlaws. In this world, they were called the mafia.

As a rule, they did not harm ordinary civilians or hunters as long as those people lived normal lives. But if someone messed with their turf, they would chase that poor idiot down with the persistence of a pit viper and kill him as an example.

Rubelt told me never to pick a fight with them under any circumstances, but as if I would. I valued my life too, damn it.

On top of that, apparently the mafia often acted as backers for gangs.

Gangs were basically like what Japan called biker gangs—though these days, maybe “idiot biker gangs” would be more accurate. These gangs caused trouble on mafia turf, then paid tribute in return. Unlike the mafia, gangs had no problem hurting ordinary civilians, so people had to be careful around them.

That meant even if you did not want to get involved, there were times when you got dragged in anyway. In fact, Rubelt had apparently been harassed a few times. When that happened, he beat them to a pulp and buried them in a dungeon. Terrifying as hell.

I wondered if wiping out a gang would cause the mafia to show up, but apparently that relationship was pretty dry around here, and it did not count as damaging the mafia’s pride. As long as the mafia suffered no actual loss, they usually stayed out of it.

Among hunters, the common sense was that if a gang picked a fight with you, you beat them down without mercy. Gangs also did not want to make enemies of hunters unless they were seriously stupid, so they usually did not attack them. Still, knowing that Rubelt had been targeted before meant I could not completely relax.

“All right, that about covers it. If you’re going to live in this city as a hunter, knowing this much should keep you out of most trouble. Good thing we finished before noon.”

“You saved me. I would’ve been totally lost if I’d been alone.”

“Fuhahaha, don’t worry about it. This city’s rough for a young man who just came in from the countryside and has to survive on his own. Especially fresh arrivals. Gangs and mafia types see them as easy prey. They get dragged into trouble a lot, so be careful. Worst case, you can use my name. Anyway, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was noon. With the sun high overhead, this was the time of day when anyone’s stomach would start growling.

Naturally, I was hungry too.

That morning, I had been busy figuring out my current situation and dealing with all kinds of things, so I had not eaten breakfast. For someone who had eaten three solid meals every single day, skipping breakfast hit harder than I expected.

“All right, then let’s go to a place I recommend. It’s so good your eyes’ll pop out.”

“Oh? Now I’m looking forward to it. What about the price?”

“It’s cheap, the food comes out fast, and more than anything, it’s delicious. The portions are big too, so hunters and ordinary folks both love it. It’s basically everyone’s hero.”

Ah, so junk food.

Maybe it could have been something like standing soba, but if someone asked whether soba had big portions, I would probably answer no.

I followed Rubelt as he started walking ahead.

Now then, what kind of junk food did this world have?

***

The place Rubelt brought me to a fried chicken shop with a certain white-haired, slightly chubby old man grinning on the signboard.

In other words, it was KFC. Kentucky Fried Chicken.

A long line stretched outside the bright red storefront. Kids, adults, hunters still wearing their gear, office workers in suits, housewives carrying shopping bags—every kind of person imaginable was waiting there.

Well, the old man was supposed to be from the 1890s, so seeing Colonel Sanders exist in this world. Still, seeing something so familiar here completely threw me off. Still, seeing something so familiar here completely threw me off.

Up until now, this place had felt like a proper fantasy world. The moment I saw a store I recognized from Earth, though, the atmosphere shifted into modern fantasy territory.

Rubelt noticed the complicated look on my face. Completely misunderstanding why I was staring, he slapped my shoulder and burst out laughing.

“Fuhahahaha! Pretty shocking, right?! Look at that line! You’d never see this many people gathered around a single shop out in the countryside!”

“Ah… yeah. There really are a lot of people.”

“And the chicken here is incredible! One bite and you’re done for! If Jesus lived in this era, he’d definitely add a new verse to the scriptures!”

Rubelt raised a finger dramatically, sounding absurdly proud of himself.

“‘This chicken possesses irresistible deliciousness. Therefore, eating it shall be permitted.’ That’s exactly what he’d write!”

There was no way he would add that.

Was this one of those American-joke kind of things? Was I supposed to play along somehow? This was FR, though.

While I struggled with how to react, Rubelt threw an arm around my shoulders and got in line as if my reaction meant absolutely nothing to him.

The line was pretty long, but there were plenty of counters, and people moved through quickly. We probably would not have to wait all that long.

“I’m telling you, it really is good. When I first came to the city and ate it for the first time, I was shocked. It made the food my old lady cooked feel like someone had been making me lick an asshole.”

“Your mother would cry if she heard that. Also, don’t say asshole right before a meal. That’s filthy.”

“Whoops, you’re right.”

Rubelt laughed loudly and slapped my back over and over as he said that.

This guy’s attitude changed the moment food came up.

He looked like he could not wait to see how I would react as a fresh arrival from the countryside.

The problem was, I had eaten this before.

The world and country were different, so the taste might have been different too, but I figured it would probably not be too far from what I imagined.

Judging by the chicken people were eating while walking, the shape and color looked very familiar.

By the way, if Kenta existed here, did that other world-famous fast-food chain exist too?

“By the way, Rubelt. Do you know a place called McDon*ld’s?”

“Oh? Yeah, I know it. I’ll take you there some other time.”

So McDonald’s existed in this world.

That place should have been founded in the 1940s, so it was not strange for it to exist here either.

I could not eat Japanese food, but being able to eat things I had eaten in my previous world was something to be grateful for.

...Maybe rice and soy sauce exist too. I should look for them sometime.

After waiting a few minutes, our turn came. The turnover was quick, so most of the people who had been lined up earlier had already finished buying their food.

Old man Rubelt bought two orders of his usual recommendation, then paid for mine too.

“You came up from the countryside, so you probably don’t have much money, right? I’d be in trouble if you started mooching off me every time, but I can treat you to lunch once.”

When he said that with a cool old-man smile, I genuinely thought he looked damn cool.

I did have enough money to live normally for about two years, but there was no harm in saving what I could. Thinking about it more carefully, this was basically the first time I had started living on my own.

Judging by how Rubelt spoke, he had probably come to the city from the countryside too, so maybe he saw his younger self in me.

With that thought in mind, I gratefully accepted Rubelt’s kindness. We took seats in the eating area that had luckily opened up, and I took my first bite of chicken in this world.

...Yeah. This was Kenta from Japan.

I felt bad for Rubelt, who had clearly been waiting for my reaction, but it was a nostalgic flavor I had eaten plenty of times before.

Seeing my reaction, Rubelt shook his head as if I had let him down, then dropped his shoulders with a disappointed sigh.

“What the hell? That reaction’s a letdown.”

“It tastes nostalgic. Rather than being shocked by how good it is, I’m more surprised by how familiar it feels. Or would you have preferred me to start crying, dripping snot everywhere, writhing on the floor, and chanting the Bible?”

“Yeah. Please demonstrate that right now.”

“...”

Don’t say that with a grin, damn it.

“Still, nostalgic flavor, huh? Does it taste like something from your hometown?”

“Yeah. The taste of a hometown I can never go back to.”

“Glad to hear it. If you ever want to remember home, come here. So, Gray, do you have any dreams or anything?”

When I said that, Rubelt seemed to immediately sniff out that this topic was a landmine and changed the subject.

He really had lived a long time. His landmine detection skills were sharp.

He clearly knew which landmines could be stepped on and which ones absolutely should not. Thanks to me acting a little gloomy, I probably managed to make him think I had some heavy past, so that was a complete win.

With this, he probably would not bring up my hometown much.

Though it was not wrong to call it a hometown I could never return to.

“Not a dream, exactly. More like a goal. I’m planning to conquer the Five Great Dungeons.”

“Oh? That’s a pretty outrageous goal. You do know the Five Great Dungeons are called unconquerable dungeons, right?”

“I know. But I have to do it. That’s why I’m here.”

“?”

Rubelt tilted his head at my meaningful words, but he did not dig any deeper. Just like before, he seemed to sense that asking would turn into a pain in the ass.

Rubelt took a huge bite of the chicken in his hand, finished it in no time, then pulled two cigarettes from his pocket.

He put one in his own mouth and held the other out to me.

“I don’t smoke, you know. I’m still sixteen.”

“If you’re sixteen, you’re already an adult. Legally, you can smoke. Let me teach a fearless young man who wants to challenge the Five Great Dungeons something. Dungeons are places that mess with your nerves like hell. You’re better off having something to help stabilize your mind and cut down stress. There isn’t much entertainment down there, after all. You need something that doesn’t take up much space and can be enjoyed alone.”

“What about the smell? There are monsters with good noses, right?”

“There are, sure, but tobacco generally gives off a smell monsters hate. That’s thanks to years of research. Some monsters do memorize that smell and use it to hunt humans, but those are rare.”

“What a convenient cigarette.”

Since a veteran like Rubelt said so, I guessed it was better to have something to rely on.

I obediently accepted the cigarette from Rubelt, and he lit it for me with a lighter.

It surprised me that he used a primitive lighter in a world where magic tools and other things had developed, but I decided that this was modern fantasy, so that was just how it was.

When I took a light drag, a cool, mint-like sensation rushed through my nose.

So this was what they called a menthol cigarette. I remembered reading an article about them back when I was suffering from that special disease every middle school second-year caught at least once. ...Though I was still kind of a chuunibyou even now.

“Fuhaha, looks like this is your first cigarette. You’re making a better face now than when you ate the chicken.”

“None of your business.”

Apparently people coughed when they smoked for the first time, but my lungs seemed pretty adaptable, so I had no particular trouble with it.

Rubelt rummaged through his pocket, took out another fresh pack of cigarettes, and tossed it to me.

“If you want to buy tobacco, leave your apartment and go right. There’s an old hag who runs a tobacco specialty shop there. Let’s stop by on the way back. You’ll need to buy a lighter too.”

That day, I learned the taste of tobacco.

Chapter 3: The Taste of Tobacco