The next day, in the early evening, after the sun went down.
Ronan changed into a black shirt and pants. He put on a pair of brown leather boots.
He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He felt much better. The tiredness from studying for so long was gone, and he felt awake again.
He fixed his messy hair and looked in the mirror. He had black hair, black eyes, and a tall, lean build. He was about 185 centimeters tall. His features were sharp and clear. He looked quite handsome.
Who is this handsome guy?
Ronan narrowed his eyes slightly. Then, he carefully let his hair fall back into its usual style.
He put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses. In an instant, the sharpness in his appearance faded. He looked like just another ordinary person. He was satisfied with the result.
After checking his clothes, he put on a simple patterned coat. Ronan grabbed his wallet and keys and went out.
Of course, in Orario's current state, it was important to carry a weapon. A small dagger that was easy to carry was just right.
...
The house Ronan rented was on the north side of West Main Street. It was near the forest in the 7th District, on the outer edge of the city.
Standing in his yard, he could look up and see the massive city walls nearby.
In this quiet area, the lights were dim. It was very different from the busy and noisy city center.
Because gods lived here, Orario's nightlife was very lively. Entertainment streets, pubs, casinos, and bathhouses could be found everywhere. The pubs were the busiest. As soon as it got dark, they were already packed.
Adventurers worked hard all day, so they looked forward to a cold drink at night. Ronan was no different.
He followed the stone path out of the alley and entered the busy West Main Street.
Ronan felt relaxed as he joined the crowd. He had broken through his limits and learned magic. He would be faster and safer in the Dungeon now, so he was in a very good mood.
He hummed a little tune. Before long, he saw a familiar sign.
The sign for the [Hostess of Fertility] hung there. It showed two mugs of ale.
"Welcome! Is it just one person, sir?"
Is the famous waitress already starting her shift this early?
Ronan looked at the gray-haired girl with a ponytail. She wore a green uniform, a white apron, black socks, and small brown boots. She was very cute. He thought that to himself, but he kept a calm face and replied normally:
"Luvis and Dormul are already here, right?"
The gray-haired girl, Syr Flova of the [Hostess of Fertility], smiled.
"Oh, you're a friend of Mr. Luvis and Mr. Dormul! They are already here. This way, please."
She stepped aside to show him the way and then quickly walked ahead of him.
Watching her light steps and her gray ponytail, Ronan raised an eyebrow.
He thought the one behind that identity was very bold. The people behind [Evilus] hated her and had tried to kill her many times. Yet here she was, pretending to be a waitress and openly showing her face in public, just to experience how ordinary people lived.
Was she confident or just careless? If it were Ronan, he would have stayed hidden at the top of Babel and never come down.
Thinking like that, he followed Syr into the pub.
In an instant, a wave of heat hit him. It was mixed with the smell of food, alcohol, sweat, and noise.
The large hall was full. People sat in groups, laughing and talking loudly. Some were eating quickly, while most were drinking amber-colored ale. Waitresses in uniform moved through the crowded aisles with bright smiles, adding a lively touch to the rough and noisy room.
"Ronan, over here!"
In a corner, Luvis raised his arm high and waved at Ronan. No one paid any attention. Hardly anyone even glanced his way.
When they reached the table, Ronan quietly said, "Thank you," to Syr. As soon as he sat down, Luvis put an arm around his shoulder.
"Hey, you're late today! You have to drink three mugs as a penalty!" Luvis said with a playful smile. He looked a little drunk.
Ronan laughed. "Fine, three mugs it is." He looked up at Syr, who was waiting with a smile. "Start with ten mugs of cold ale. Give us a platter of grilled skewers and some fried cheese. What's the special today?"
"[Herb Cream Chicken]," Syr answered immediately.
"We'll take one of those too, plus some pickled vegetables and garlic bread. We'll order more later if we need it."
Syr quickly wrote it down on her notepad. Her smile became more genuine. "Please wait a moment. I'll bring the drinks first. The food will be ready soon."
"Great!"
The drinks came much faster than the food. A different waitress arrived with a tray a moment later.
The cold ale was served. Without saying a word, Ronan grabbed a mug and drank three of them in a row!
"Burp. That's the stuff!"
On this hot summer night, the cold ale felt incredible. The refreshing chill instantly washed away his tiredness. His mind finally relaxed. After working all day in the dangerous Dungeon, wasn't this what everyone wanted?
This was what life was all about!
"Haha! That's the spirit. You're always so direct, Ronan. That's how you should drink!" Dormul laughed and slammed the table. Then he looked at the blond elf next to him with joking annoyance. "Not like some skinny elf who drinks slower than a girl!"
Because Ronan drank so fast, Dormul praised him while insulting his friend.
"Who are you calling skinny, you short log!" Luvis snapped back immediately.
Looking at the two of them arguing again, Ronan took a bite of food. "You two really do get along well. But making an elf drink like that is a little unfair."
"Hey, Ronan!"
Luvis pretended to be angry, but then he laughed.
...
After several drinks, the table became very lively.
The three of them enjoyed the food and drink while talking about rumors and news. They laughed often. They fit naturally into this pub full of adventurers.
"By the way, Luvis," Ronan said as he put down his glass. "Why are you being so generous today? This table isn't cheap. This is the [Hostess of Fertility]. Spending ten or twenty thousand Valis on one meal is a lot, even for you."
He quickly glanced at the owner behind the bar. As if she had heard him, Mia Grand's sharp eyes turned his way. Ronan quickly gave her a polite smile.
Luvis raised an eyebrow and kept a serious face. He acted like he had a secret.
"Tch, stop acting," Dormul cut in. "Ronan, this guy reached Level 2 today! From now on, when we see him, we have to call him 'Lord Luvis'!"
"..."
Luvis could not hide his grin anymore.
"Hehe, I'm ahead of you guys. Go on, call me Lord Luvis! Don't worry, since we're friends, I'll look out for you! Come on, let's drink!"
Ronan and Dormul looked at each other. Then they picked up their mugs and started making Luvis drink even more.
How much could an elf really drink?
Under their combined attack, Luvis did not even last three rounds. After a few more mugs of ale, he slid under the table.
"Hmph. So what if he's Level 2? He still can't drink," Dormul said.
Ronan grinned. An elf trying to out-drink a dwarf was a terrible idea.
He looked at the elf passed out under the table and felt a little sorry for him.
"By the way, Ronan," Dormul said. He held his large wooden mug, leaned in closer, and lowered his voice. "Be careful when you go into the Dungeon lately. Keep your eyes open."
Ronan felt a chill, but his face stayed calm. He quickly glanced around the noisy hall. After making sure no one was listening, he whispered, "The Dungeon... did something happen? Is it a monster migration, or...?"
He was asking whether adventurers were robbing other adventurers.
"It's not other adventurers." Dormul shook his head. His voice dropped even lower. "There are rumors... they say those people from [Evilus] are doing something in the Dungeon. Apparently, someone saw them."
"Where did you hear that?"
"Where else?" Dormul took a sip of his drink and pointed away. "The news came from the people in [Rivira] on Floor 18."