Chapter 90: Recruiting an Assistant Clerk

The Monster Tavern.

Today is the day the monsters gather for a feast, but...

Not every monster will appear at this banquet.

Nor will every monster be found in the tavern hall, for in this world there are many other spirits and demons who also need the tavern's food and drink to survive.

Yet they need not sit together with the reckless creatures who have thrown themselves into this world and come here to die.

They are like natives, like locals, enjoying the privileges of a well-entrenched power.

In principle, of course, the monsters each rely on their own abilities, taking on tasks and exchanging them for food and drink—fair enough...

But where in this world is there any true fairness?

The tavern is a compound ancient building, three stories in all.

Each floor conceals its own mysteries, things unknown to the lesser spirits like Li Changluo.

For instance, at this very moment on the second floor, a group of influential demons were gathered around a table, arguing endlessly.

"As I see it, the tavern needs more hands. Since Little Chick has gone off to the Eastern Isles, we ought to hire another helper. Otherwise, with these old bones of ours, we'll never manage the work, and if we must serve dishes and pour drinks ourselves, what sort of business would that be?"

At one corner of the table sat a toad demon with a cavernous mouth and a body covered in warts. As he spoke, a puff of green gas sprayed from his mouth, and the others at the table hurried to pinch their noses and lean away.

"Yes, the old toad is right. He stinks of breath, but his words are not without reason. I think we ought to select a worthy young talent from our own clan..."

An emaciated elderly mantis demon said.

"A worthy young talent from your clan? Have they not all been eaten by the mantis bride yet? Know your own limits. I say there is no one more fit to be the tavern boy than me."

At one corner, a wild boar demon with a pair of great tusks scoffed at the old mantis's suggestion. While gnawing on a fragrant soy-braised pig trotter, he wiped his mouth and kept eyeing the food on the table.

"Truly, once a man is gone, the tea turns cold. Our clan's Little Chick sacrificed himself for the tavern. He worked diligently, without complaint, for so long. And now he is gone like this, yet not a single person here has mentioned how to mourn him or remember him. Instead, all you old monsters are busy finding a new helper."

"Have you no humanity at all?"

A middle-aged man with brush-written characters all over his face turned livid. He looked frail and sickly, his whole body trembling.

He shook his head, then said solemnly to the others, "I think... perhaps I should take Little Chick's place. After all, I... I... I... am his uncle."

As soon as he finished, he broke into a violent fit of coughing...

"Even if you were his father, it wouldn't matter. Look at you—if you became the helper, no one would know whether it was you, the old helper, serving everyone, or everyone serving you, the old helper."

At the other side of the table sat a fan, or to be precise, a fan with a human face, who was blowing with all his might toward the middle-aged man's face across the table...

The harder the man coughed, the more fiercely the fan blew.

"What does the dragon demon clan think of this?" A young man in the guise of a scholar, fanning himself with a paper fan, turned his gaze to the side.

At the other end of the table sat the representative of the dragon demon clan, Prince Dragon Seven. From beginning to end, he had not said a word, merely watching the performance of the monsters around the table like a bystander.

"And what is your view?" Prince Dragon Seven replied coldly to the scholar.

"Haha, I am but a dull-witted man. Better to hear the proprietor's opinion, wouldn't you say?" The scholar smiled and looked toward the elegantly seated mistress of the house, White Lotus.

The noisy monsters all turned their eyes to White Lotus at once. She remained as pure and lovely as ever, so pitiful as to stir compassion at a glance.

"Little Chick... I failed to protect you..." The proprietor, White Lotus, suddenly began to sob. Her voice choked with emotion as she said, "What you say all makes sense. I only ask your forgiveness for my lapse. When I think of Little Chick, my heart aches and grows confused. All of you here are representatives of the great demon clans, so this matter must still be guided by you."

Her meaning was plain enough: you lot keep arguing, and don't come asking me.

After all, who would want to take the lead in a matter that only earns resentment?

Such a pitiful reply left the monsters speechless.

They could hardly bully a grieving widow, could they?

They could hardly bully such a lovely proprietress, could they?

With such graceful deftness, the proprietress had passed the ball so elegantly that no one could very well stand up and say...

You could have thrown it harder, right at my face.

White Lotus dabbed at her tears in little sobs, yet her enchanting eyes kept drifting toward the guest room door.

"I say, why don't we just fight? Whoever wins gets the final say."

The wild boar demon picked up a bowl of soup from the table, drained it in one gulp, then smashed the bowl down and shouted at the monsters across the table.

"Fight, fight—if that's what it takes, then we fight. Cough, cough, cough..."

The middle-aged man covered in writing replied excitedly to the boar demon, only to bend over in a violent coughing fit.

The fan demon blew even harder.

The old toad and the mantis demon merely smiled without speaking.

"No, no, absolutely not. We must not harm the harmony between us."

The scholar hurriedly tried to stop them.

"So there's no way to come to an agreement..."

The wild boar demon asked the table of monsters with rude impatience.

"Let go!!!"

The wild boar demon roared in fury, both hands gripping the edge of the table as he tried to overturn it.

But Prince Dragon Seven pressed one hand firmly on the table...

The table did not budge.

The boar demon had intended to overwhelm these monsters by sheer force of presence, to cow them into submission, so overturning the table was necessary to show them who was boss.

Yet...

It seemed as though he had instead received a crushing display of dominance in return...

He could not endure that. This display of dominance had to be shown.

So...

Reluctantly, the boar demon settled for a second-best solution. Enraged, he grabbed the chair he had been sitting on and hurled it away...

The stool shattered into pieces...

He stood there with his hands on his hips, looking triumphantly at the others...

Hoping to earn a round of applause...

So fierce, so mighty...

We are so frightened...

But...

The others continued sitting there as if nothing had happened, going right on with their discussion...

The boar demon looked around, searching high and low, but there was not a spare stool left in the guest room. In the end, he had no choice but to stand there awkwardly...

"The last time the tavern hired anyone was over a hundred years ago. That young helper, Zheng Strange, was personally chosen by the proprietor. This time, proprietor, you still need to give us a decision: who exactly gets the opening for the tavern boy?"

The old toad demon went straight to the point and tossed the question back to White Lotus.

"The matter of hiring Zheng Strange last time was not decided by this humble woman. That much, all of you know."

White Lotus answered the old toad in a soft voice, then gently pointed to herself with her finger, looking extremely cautious.

She was telling everyone here: there is another self living inside me, so don't provoke me.

Be careful I don't transform and beat you all senseless.

"Since matters have come to this, and no one can agree, we can only begin the tavern trial and recruit a new tavern boy."