I had wondered why he’d pegged us for members of the Bandelt Group, but on reflection, it made perfect sense. We were traveling with a pack of former bandits. While their presence had been useful for getting us through the fortress, it had clearly backfired here, causing the villagers to harbor nothing but ill will toward us.
As I considered how to clear up the misunderstanding, Beere-san tapped my shoulder as if to say leave it to me and called out to the old man.
"Hey now, mistaking me for the Bandelt Group? Have you finally gone senile, old man?"
"Beere? I didn't realize you were there... You're so small I missed you entirely."
"That’s a pity. Is your eyesight failing you now? You ought to spend the rest of your days taking it easy and recuperating."
"Zip it!"
It seemed the mohawk-sporting old man was an acquaintance of Beere-san’s. Their words were far from friendly, but the tension in their expressions was visibly softening.
"So, why are you rubbing elbows with the Bandelt Group crowd? Don't tell me you've started wagging your tail for them."
"Not a chance. These guys have turned over a new leaf. They're my subordinates and employees now."
Beere-san casually referred to the former bandits as his subordinates, and surprisingly, they didn’t seem to mind. Somewhere along the way, a firm hierarchy had been established.
Pino was the stick—smiling cheerfully with a blunt weapon in hand—while Beere-san was the carrot, shielding them from her while painting a bright future for the curry shop. By playing their roles, they had won the bandits' hearts completely. In that sense, Pino’s contribution was significant, but Beere-san was the one pulling her strings all along. It was a classic "match-pump" scenario—he was essentially creating the fire just so he could be the one to put it out.
...Well, since no one was getting hurt, I suppose it was fine. I had to give it to him; Beere-san’s people-management skills were top-notch.
"These guys are employees? Don't be a fool. Men who only know how to steal don't just 'wash their feet' and start fresh. You'll live to regret this."
Beere-san beamed with pride, but Old Man Mohawk wasn’t buying it. He clearly harbored deep-seated resentment toward the Bandelt Group, and it didn't look like our relationship would improve overnight.
However, Beere-san simply laughed off the old man's concerns. Instead, he leveled a finger at him and made a bold declaration.
"Is that so, Old Man Dende? Then I’ll just have to show you what these guys are really made of!"
"What?"
The mohawk old man—Dende-san—stared back with a dubious look. Honestly, the rest of our party was just as lost; Halfa and Spira were staring with their mouths hanging open.
However, some people understood exactly what Beere-san meant. The former bandits were practically vibrating with excitement as they called out to him.
"Is it finally time for the grand opening?!"
"You bet! Jester, I'm counting on you!"
"Leave it to me, boss!"
Jester was the leader of the former bandits, and strangely enough, he was the most obedient of the lot. Perhaps it was because he’d been on the direct receiving end of Pino’s blunt-force discipline.
Since they were talking about a "grand opening," it was obvious they were going to serve curry. Naturally, they didn't have any of the ingredients themselves, so twenty pairs of eyes inevitably swiveled toward me. Being stared down by twenty men at once was quite an intense experience.
"Ah, the ingredients? Right, right. But this is the last of it, okay? I’m tapped out after this."
As soon as I handed the supplies over, the former bandits—no, the employees—shouted in unison, "Thank you very much!" Their voices were so loud they probably echoed through the entire village. I noticed more villagers peeking out from their homes to see what all the racket was about.
"Sorry about that! I’ll make sure to pay you back double for the ingredients."
You’d better! Don’t you dare forget!
"I know, I know. You're a greedy little one, aren't you?"
This is an important matter!
Shiroru answered Beere-san’s apology in my stead. The fact that she could communicate via Thought Transmission was already out of the bag.
This wasn't actually the first time I’d provided them with supplies. Since they wanted to practice for the curry shop, I’d been acting as an instructor, letting them use my stock. Consequently, the ingredients were disappearing at an alarming rate. Shiroru, unable to stand the drain on her food supply, had finally voiced her protest.
The employees had been shocked at first, but Beere-san had simply found it amusing. Anyone spending time with us could see Shiroru was exceptionally clever, and since we were always talking to her, he’d likely gathered that she understood us perfectly.
"Is Beere-san really starting a curry shop?"
"We should make ice cream too, Halfa-chan!"
"I was just thinking the same thing, Spira-chan!"
As the curry preparations got underway, Halfa and Spira nodded to each other, looks of inspiration on their faces. They were obsessed with ice cream—not just eating it, but serving it to others. They weren't about to miss out on a chance like this.
"Aren't you going to make something, Master?"
That’s right! Tort should cook something too!
As I watched Halfa and Spira with a smile, the gluttonous duo of Pino and Shiroru piped up. Allen and the others didn't say anything, but they were watching me with expectant eyes.
"Ahaha. I guess I should. What should I make?"
Buckling under the weight of their expectations, I decided to join the fray. I’d never been one to turn down a chance to cook for a crowd, anyway.