For a brief, tense second, I was pretty sure this was the moment I got kicked out, stabbed, or introduced to medieval customer service violence.
Instead—he froze.
His pupils shrank like they'd just witnessed the something terrifying.
"…Hmph."
He grunted approvingly and turned away without another word, grabbing a bottle.
'Why did he freeze?' I asked internally.
[You still remember the Tigara?]
'Oh. Right. I inherited its Aura.'
So apparently I now came with a built-in "don't mess with me unless you enjoy dying" filter. Socially awkward, but convenient.
I leaned back against the bar while waiting, letting my enhanced senses roam.
Yep. All NPCs.
The drunk guy singing in the corner? NPC.
The merchant loudly lying about his profits? NPC.
The man asleep face-down in stew? Definitely NPC.
