Chapter 5

Cabbage.

Yes, cabbage.

Gea Note is eating cabbage.

Gea Note, a notable person who also holds a position in the city council of the ancient capital, is simply eating cabbage.

It’s not even pickled.

At first glance, it really is just peeled cabbage.

With a little bit of seasoned oil and some kind of salty seaweed. That was all the seasoning.

And yet, why?

“It’s quite addictive, isn’t it?”

When asked by the waitress, Gea Note almost nodded.

No, that won’t do.

I can’t approve of such a dish.

“Indeed, it is a creative and innovative flavor, my lady. However, in this ancient capital with its history and tradition, it seems a bit too casual for a tavern menu.”

While saying what needed to be said, Gea Note adjusted his monocle.

With his prominent forehead and hawk nose, Gea Note could easily be mistaken for a professor at the imperial university.

However, his job is not so noble.

“Well, I think it’s good as long as it tastes good.”

Seeing the waitress smile, Gea Note slightly hunched his shoulders.

To make such a statement, ignoring all formality, right in front of me. It seems that uneducated women of other ethnicities are best suited for serving.

“... Still, isn’t the owner, Mr. Taisho, supposed to be here?”

While quenching his thirst with a Triaeznam, a type of ale, he asked the waitress.

Talking to this waitress is pointless.

Gea Note is here at the tavern for “work.”

“He’s out buying ingredients, so it might take a bit longer. Would you like me to make you something simple while you wait?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll have a bit more of this... crispy cabbage?”

Gea Note’s job is that of a tax collector.

He is contracted by the city council to collect taxes.

Of course, collecting the exact amount requested would yield no profit. So, Gea Note and other contractors use various methods to find faults with taxpayers and try to collect as much tax as possible.

The difference goes entirely into the contractor’s pocket.

Skilled contractors can collect two or three times the requested amount and even build palace-like mansions.

Today, Gea Note has his eye on this “Izakaya no Bu.”

This tavern, which somehow started operating, is extremely popular among the guards and is likely making a considerable amount of money.

If he can handle it well, it could be a lucrative case.

Crisp.

Crisp.

Crisp.

Still, it doesn’t stop.

Because it doesn’t stop, his hand keeps reaching for more.

It’s not particularly flavorful, but the saltiness makes his throat dry.

This leads to a vicious cycle where he wants more Triaeznam.

Gea Note, a man of the empire, is not so weak as to get drunk on one or two glasses of ale, but after drinking more than he can count on both hands, his stomach starts to feel full.

“... Yes, I think it wouldn’t be bad to change the atmosphere in my mouth a bit. Do you have any recommended dishes?”

“All of our dishes are recommended. But since the owner isn’t here, many things can’t be made.”

“Hmm, I see.”

When everything is said to be delicious, it can be difficult to decide.

Should I ask for some grilled sausage?

Or perhaps stir-fried smoked meat and potatoes?

However, as he is thinking, something is boiling in the pot behind the counter.

Looking to see what’s happening, the waitress starts boiling something.

“Hey, miss. ... What is that? If my guess is correct... it looks like noodles.”

“Yes, it’s pasta. It’s my lunch.”

“I’ll have it.”

“Um, but this is for the staff... and pasta in a tavern, isn’t that a bit strange?”

Gea Note, annoyed by the hesitant waitress, shouts at her.

“This is a place that serves food, and I am a customer!”

“Oh, yes, that’s true, but—”

Noodles.

He hasn’t eaten them in a long time, but once he sees them, he can’t help but want to eat them.

Gea Note, a native of the southern part of the empire, grew up eating noodles almost every day as a child.

Since achieving success as a tax collector in the ancient capital, he has never returned home.

This is a rare opportunity to taste the flavors of his hometown. He couldn’t let it pass.

“Please. Give it to me.”

“Oh, um, sure. That’s fine... but the seasoning will be up to me. I can’t do anything too complicated.”

“Ah, that’s fine. I’ll leave it to you.”

“Then, I’ll make you a spaghetti napoletana.”