CotE: The Wandering Misfit

Chapter 1 - All in a Day's Work

"You have my blessings, boy. Your tough times will pass." Before I could question her generosity, she turned away and began limping back the way she came.

Wait, what? I am not a beggar! Did I look like one? Come to think of it, most people I had seen were dressed more fancily than me. Perhaps my comparatively simple garb was indicative of poverty. Currently, clothing was not high on my priority list due to its expensive and unnecessary nature, but at some point, I would need at least one new set of clothes for when my gown was being washed.

Besides, if my clothing somehow moved people to give up their yen, I saw no reason to change it. I wondered why more people did not dress like me. They could get some money as well.

This lady was the sixth person today to altruistically pay me. Coincidentally, all were adult females. Do women lose their sanity after a certain age? Did my appearance awaken a motherly instinct in them? I knew nothing of my mother, let alone seeing her, so I had zero knowledge of this topic. Further research would be required once I was living comfortably.

My stomach rumbled. My body was used to going without food for up to a week, but that did not mean I would willingly subject myself to fasting.

Break time is over, I thought while glancing at my assortment of silver coins. One 50, three 100s, and two 500s. 1350 yen in total. I was sure I could buy plenty of street food with what I currently had, but I was not content with just 1350 yen. After all, other necessities, such as toiletries, a blanket, and other miscellaneous expenses, might come up in the future.

I glanced at a restaurant across the street. I began crossing the road, a plan hatching in my mind.

~~~

"Sir, what would you like to order?"

I was overwhelmed. This was out of my depth.

In front of me was a menu listing food items I had never heard of. Fortunately, my target was a dish costing 1000 yen or less, eliminating half of the menu items. I could further remove desserts and drinks from consideration as they were not meals. Soups and starters were for the wealthy, which left roughly half of the entreé category.

As I began to get homesick, I had a revelation. On its signboard, the restaurant declared it was a "ramen shop," meaning...

"I'll have one of your ramen."

"Sir, we offer ten varieties of ramen. Which one would you like?"

Now I really wanted to return to the White Room.

There were no pictures on the menu, so I could not select the most attractive-looking option. Also, it did not help that all ten varieties were under 1000 yen when I opted for the regular bowl size.

I could sense the waiter tapping his foot impatiently. It was understandable — after all, the restaurant was packed right now. He had orders to take and dishes to serve. I had to make a decision fast.

In the White Room, we were taught that in some situations, turning the question around can unsettle the asker and therefore make them more susceptible to further psychological attacks. My aim was not to unnerve the waiter, but with him being the only person in this conversation with any knowledge of food, I reasoned it was worth a try.

"What do you recommend?" I asked.

"I enjoy the tonkotsu ramen most," replied the waiter, picking up on my ineptitude. Success!

"Then, if it is not inconvenient, I will order one tonkotsu ramen in a regular-size bowl."

"Very well. What toppings would you like?"