"I won't go back on my word."
"Put it in writing, meow!" Shalan didn't seem to trust Altaïr very much.
Even though Altaïr had clearly guaranteed he would join the investigation team, Shalan remained uneasy. She dragged Altaïr to the Quest Counter to complete the registration. Only after the investigation team's roster was officially finalized did she display a triumphant expression again.
"Now I am the leader, meow!"
"Without a doubt," Altaïr nodded seriously.
"The two of you must follow my orders, meow!" Shalan puffed out her chest.
"Regarding matters of the investigation, that is indeed the case."
"Meow-hee-hee!" Shalan ran a few steps toward the Tavern Area in excitement.
She turned back to urge the two men, "What are you just standing there for, meow? To celebrate the formation of the investigation team, we must have a feast, meow! My treat, meow!"
Having said that, she rushed off excitedly to find a server to place an order.
Altaïr felt a tug on his clothes and looked down to see Sajji.
Sajji was looking up at him with an uneasy face, "Boss, swindling a fool is against the law, meow."
"No, we aren't tricking her," Altaïr said seriously, patting Sajji's head. "Miss Shalan is Isis's elder; one could even consider her her aunt.
We must respect her and defer to her, but we also need to offer timely reminders if she makes an incorrect judgment."
He could naturally see through the long game Shalan was playing. She had gone as far as digging a hole for herself just to force him into the team. Her real motive was obvious.
It was nothing more than "I need to inspect him personally" or something to that effect; it was easy to guess if one put themselves in her shoes.
He could understand her perspective, but that didn't mean he would unconditionally indulge her nonsense just because she was Isis's elder.
However, if her actions also benefited him greatly, then what was the harm in playing along?
Erik tilted his head.
He was the classic case of high IQ but low EQ; unable to wrap his head around the complexities of the situation, he simply stopped thinking about it.
Right now, he only knew one thing: originally, he was supposed to wait in Metapetatto for half a month until the Professor and Isis arrived before he could enter the Jungle.
Now, the schedule for entering the Jungle had been moved up. Excellent! Nothing else mattered to him.
By the time Altaïr arrived at the Tavern Area with Sajji and Erik, Shalan had already finished ordering.
She jumped onto a table and boasted with a face full of pride, "Give thanks to Lady Shalan, meow! I've ordered all the best dishes, meow!
Because of my Palico rank, the secret menu was fully opened to us, meow! I even ordered that new dish the server called the 'phantom cuisine,' meow!"
"Phantom cuisine?" Erik asked curiously. "Was a particularly rare creature used as the ingredient?"
He wasn't interested in food, but he was very interested in biological specimens.
"I don't know, meow! Anyway, besides that, I ordered a lot of expensive dishes with strange names, meow!
When you don't know what to choose, choosing the expensive ones is always right, meow!"
Altaïr's expression became somewhat strange. The Guild Hall tavern offered a vast variety of dishes and an extensive menu. When she first arrived in Metapetatto, Isis had ordered everything on it over the course of several visits, leading her to the conclusion that some of these dishes really weren't for everyone.
For instance...
"The first main course is here!" Little Lilian, the young receptionist, gingerly carried over a massive tray covered by a metal cloche to keep the heat in. "The Jungle Iron Cannon!"
The girl's voice was as energetic as ever, but her tone was strangely strained, as if she were holding her breath while speaking.
"..."
Altaïr, who had been fortunate enough to sample the dish alongside Isis once before, quietly scooted his chair back. Sajji went a step further and hopped down from his seat to excuse himself. "I'm gonna go grab some drinks, meow!"
Unlocking none of this, Shalan leaned in toward the platter with curiosity.
The Jungle Iron Cannon. One couldn't tell what it was made of from the name alone, but it was expensive and sounded powerful, so she had ordered it.
"Enjoy, mmm." Little Lilian lifted the cover and immediately bolted.
On the tray, a scorching stone slab sizzled. Amidst the rising heat waves, the food smothered in thick sauce atop the stone emitted a subtle, pungent odor that nearly knocked Shalan over.
"What in the meow is this, meow!?" Shalan cried out, clutching her tiny nose.
Erik leaned in to take a closer look. "Judging by the shape and the size, this seems to be..."
"Don't worry about what it is yet," Altaïr interrupted. "Anyway, it's some kind of meat. It's a Jungle specialty. Isis actually gave this dish a pretty high rating."
It was better not to know the source of the ingredients before eating; it tended to ruin the appetite.
"Little Isis likes it, meow?" Shalan asked, her voice muffled by her paws. "Then I'll give it a try too, meow."
Shalan poked a piece with her fork and blew on it repeatedly to cool it down. Once it was cool enough, she popped it into her mouth.
"Mmm, mmm... Very rich seasoning, meow. And this chewiness... it's actually quite tasty, meow. But there's a distinct organ taste, meow. Is it some kind of intestine, meow?" Shalan evaluated the dish, her cheeks bulging as she chewed.
She wasn't particularly fond of offal, but she didn't dislike it either.
"Yes," Altaïr said with a smile. "That is Congalala rectum. 'Iron Cannon' is the local euphemism for the rectum."
Shalan, who was in the middle of a forceful swallow, suddenly choked.
Intestines aren't exactly "dark cuisine"; as long as they are cleaned properly and seasoned well, their unique texture can make them a delicacy.
However, not all large intestines are created equal.
Aptonoth large intestine felt like nothing special. Bullfango large intestine was perfectly fine. Rathalos large intestine even gave one a sense of prestige.
But Congalala large intestine...
Upon hearing that name, anyone who had ever hunted a Congalala couldn't help but recall that filthy, massive backside farting in their face, or the excrement snatched up by a tail and hurled at their head.
In a daze, a sealed memory from deep within her mind came flooding back.
It was nearly thirty years ago. Back then, she was still an inexperienced Palico, training and hunting near Val Habar with an equally inexperienced master.
In the Ancestral Steppe, they had encountered a Congalala. As per their usual tactic, her master handled the frontal assault while she circled behind to cut off the tail. Right as she was losing herself in the rhythm of the hunt, that damned Congalala glanced back at her.
That wicked gaze!
The next thing she knew, a dark yellow jet of air, a mixture of gas and filth, blasted her back.
That day, she became a foul-smelling yellow cat. She jumped into the river and washed herself countless times, but she could not scrub away the filth and the stench.
In the end, her helpless master had no choice but to shave her bald.
"Ugh–" Shalan couldn't help but dry heave.
Truthfully, this "Jungle iron cannon" had been cleaned thoroughly; there were certainly no actual remnants of filth.
However, the gamey scent of the internal organs could never be entirely removed. Many people even had a particular fondness for that musk; the unique, pungent odor of the Congalala made this dish a supreme delicacy in the eyes of enthusiasts, ensuring the ingredients remained in high demand and expensive.
But for someone with a psychological trauma...
"Are you alright?" Altaïr asked concernedly, handing over a glass of fruit juice.
He meant no harm, but what he didn't know was that while sweet and sour juice cuts through grease and salt, it can also intensify certain odd aromas. (Try drinking orange juice while eating a century egg.)
"Urgh!" After gulping down half the juice, Shalan could no longer hold it back and threw up.
Altaïr hadn't expected her to have such a violent reaction, so he quickly stepped behind Shalan and began to pat her back.
"If you don't like it, you really shouldn't eat it," Altaïr advised.
Plenty of people liked this dish, but even more people hated it. People like Sajji, or Little Lilian who had just delivered the food, they couldn't stand the smell at all.
"No meow!"
Shalan wiped her mouth forcefully and stabbed her fork down, spearing another piece. She said through gritted teeth, "Just thinking about the fact that I'm eating that guy's flesh makes me feel better, meow!"
"Muscle and internal organs are different tissues," Erik corrected from the side. "Strictly speaking, you are sucking on a Congalala's intestines."
"Blegh!"
Shalan, who had been chewing fiercely, threw up once again.
(Translated by yourtl.app)