"I Was Reincarnated Into Another World So I Want to Teach Them a Lesson in the Dungeon." ~I May Have Been Expelled as a C-Rank Sorcerer, but Since It Seems Everyone Wants My Cheat Skill, I Think I'll Teach Them a Lesson~ - Chapter 11

While waiting for Miria’s recovery, at Strega’s invitation, I found myself visiting the Necronomicon investigators’ favorite guild-c*m-tavern.

Despite the late hour, the tavern’s exterior already hinted at the chaotic atmosphere within, a far cry from the regular rhythms of civilian life.

The smell of alcohol and the whirl of lively spirits spilled out from the windows, illuminating the street with their boisterous glow. The tavern was built far from residential areas, a thoughtful consideration that I always appreciated.

“Cough. Think of it as a welcome party for you, Soma. Don’t hold back.”

Stepping inside, the place was a cauldron of drunkards. Every type of alcohol was boiling over with emotions, each patron recounting their tales from the week’s short chapter.

“An Old Ale for me—”

I ordered a drink with an alcohol content that belied my appearance.

“I’ll have milk.”

“and—”

Strega, unconcerned with the capacity of her small frame’s stomach, ordered a feast of dishes one after another. Did she have a four-dimensional pocket for a stomach?

“Here ya go!”

With a thud, the table was soon covered with a spread fit for a banquet, with a whole roasted chicken as the centerpiece, followed by overflowing plates of soup, sausages, and more meat.

“Eh? The shrimp and the monk are having quite the feast, aren’t they?”

A drunken patron from the next table jeered at us.

“Cough. How rude to call me shrimp. Despite appearances, I’ve lived hundreds of years more than you lot.”

“GAHAHA! You’re a funny one!”

His beer-soaked mustache laughed heartily. It was a natural response since Strega’s assertion lacked any conviction.

“Hey, hey, this kid is the Demon Hunter Fairy Elf Strega.”

His companion offered a cautionary note. Despite appearances, Strega was an elf with a lifespan far exceeding any human here. Even the alcohol-soaked brains seemed to grasp this fact quickly.

“Yikes! Strega, the lass? I mean, should I say Strega, the old lady?”

“Muu—”

Strega puffed up her cheeks, filled with an unspoken retort.

“By elf standards, I’m still quite young. Don’t lump me in with old men like you.”

What intrigued me was that Strega, given her lifespan, would have a brain filled with experiences. She’d likely amassed vast knowledge far beyond ours.

Yet, like us, she would have gone through the stages of childhood, adolescence, and into adulthood, with her brain developing accordingly.

I was quite curious about which stage of elven brain development Strega was currently in.

Not a child, but not quite middle-aged either, so perhaps in her young adult years?

“Hmm, what’s this? Being looked down upon by a child is really irritating.”

“FOR THE LAST TIME! Don’t treat me like a child!”

Strega clearly disliked being treated as a child.

“Still, being S-rank must be nice, getting to eat such lavish meals.”

GLUG GLUG—

The mustached patron downed his ale and, with a breath reeking of alcohol, said:

“Wait a sec? Wasn’t the Demon Hunter Fairy supposed to be a solo player? And isn’t this monk the same guy who used to hang around with that Ryner jerk?”

“Cough. Let me introduce you. This is my new partner, Soma. Despite appearances, he’s the strongest sorcerer.”

“GAHAHA! Isn’t he just a C-rank? We’re brawny B-rank warriors here!”

As the mustached man laughed boisterously again, his companion began to conjecture with a discerning eye.

“There was a recent initiative for beginner support. If you hire someone of a lower rank than yourself, you get a subsidy. I heard that if an S-rank hires a C-rank, the difference amounts to a tidy sum.”

“GULP—!”

At that moment, Strega coughed up her ale.

“So… the reason you ‘rescued’ me was…”

“Cough. Well, whatever could you mean…? My invitation was purely out of goodwill. And I’m treating you to this feast, aren’t I?”

“Strega…?”

I couldn’t see my own face without a mirror, but I tried my best to look as intimidating as possible.

“Soma, there was no deception when I said I liked you.”

“Hey… don’t say that so loudly.”

Even in this noisy space, it seemed the neighboring patrons heard quite well.

“Phew. Youthful, isn’t it…”

—You mean drunk.

“Is this what they call youth? I like it… A romance of mismatched status between a model student and a delinquent. It’s classic.”

—Is this guy also an isekai reincarnate?

Eventually, as the guild quieted down for the night, Strega lost the battle against the strong ale and began to blink sleepily, her eyelids fluttering.

In the silent tavern, where only the smell of alcohol lingered, I sipped my milk while keeping an eye on Strega.

“Cough,” Strega cleared her throat, reeking of booze.

“Don’t get the wrong idea about that conversation, okay?”

“Which one?”

“You know… that…”

From under her downcast gaze, her eyes darted around nervously.

“The reason I brought you into the party wasn’t for the subsidy.”

“I know.”

“R-really…? Ahaha… I’m glad… you think that…”

“So you really do like me, huh?”

She stood up straight like a startled cat and slammed her hands on the table.

“N-no, that’s not it!”

After denying it, she sat down quietly and poured half a glass of Old Ale down her throat.

“Well, the bigwigs at the Magic Association might think money solves everything, but there are plenty of problems that can’t be resolved with just money.”

“Labor shortages are one thing, but even the ranks of high-class members are dwindling. They get killed by demons. It’s no wonder C-ranks get involved and either die or choose never to engage again.”

The two patrons revealed the grim reality that investigation teams face. Drunk or not, there was no coherence to their words, but having experienced it firsthand, I understood the severity of the issue.

That’s why people like Ryner survive by cunning means. Others, like these men, drown their sorrows in alcohol.

And then there are those like Strega, who don’t associate with anyone to begin with.

Each has their way of coping with death, some turning a blind eye, some changing their methods to survive.