The scent of crispy batter and grilled octopus filled the air like a seductive spell—but no one gave a damn about the food.
They were all staring at me.
Not the prince. Not the nobles. Not the legendary adventurer standing nearby. Me.
And smack in the middle of it all was Alepou, arms folded, gaze sharper than any sword, giving me a look that said, "Explain yourself. Now." Her presence alone made the atmosphere heavier than an overleveled dungeon boss fight.
And me? I had nothing to say.
One second, chaos. The next, total silence. It felt like the entire festival pressed "pause" just to watch me squirm.
Then it happened—
GRRRRROOOOOOOOWWWLL.
That wasn't just a stomach growl. That was a full-blown roar from the depths of my starving soul. The kind of sound that echoes across time and space like a cursed spell. Even Alepou blinked. The silence broke. My stomach officially betrayed me.
I turned to the takoyaki stall and saw the plate I'd ordered an hour ago—burnt beyond recognition. Those poor things looked like someone mistook them for lava rocks and decided, "Yeah, let's serve this."
And I was not okay.
My knees wobbled. My vision blurred. I could feel the existential dread of hunger setting in. I wasn't just starving. I was perishing.
Alepou broke the silence with a cold, "Well?"
I blinked. "Well... what?"
"You shoved me."
I stared at her, completely lost. "Wait, what?"
"You expect me to believe you didn't?" she said, eyes narrowing.
"Dude," I croaked, trying not to collapse. "I didn't even have the strength to stand, let alone shove someone. I'm starving. I'm two seconds away from becoming a tragic side character."
She didn't budge.
I dragged myself to the counter like a wounded soldier in a war movie. Marco—the takoyaki guy—was trying to act invisible behind the grill. I leaned in, one finger pointing accusingly.
"Marco. We have a problem."
He looked up, instantly pale. "P-Problem?"
I pointed at the plate of charcoal balls. "This. Is. The. Problem."
Marco winced. "Ah… yeah. Sorry. Things got… uh… hectic."
"Marco," I said slowly, "I've been waiting an hour. I could've leveled up twice in that time. My soul is leaving my body."
"I-I'll make a fresh batch right now!"
"You better," I muttered, collapsing against the counter. "And this time? Don't summon Satan into the batter."
He scrambled. I sighed.
Behind me, Alepou still had her arms crossed, her gaze like a security camera set to Maximum Judgment Mode. The nobles looked scandalized just by existing near me. And that cranky old man who caused all this? He looked like he aged ten years in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was just praying I didn't faint face-first into the dirt.
After what felt like a thousand years—but was probably three minutes—Marco returned with a fresh tray. Golden. Crisp. Actual takoyaki. The scent alone nearly brought me to tears.
I didn't wait. I grabbed one and shoved it into my mouth while it was still lava-hot.
Pure. Bliss.
Crispy on the outside. Tender and gooey on the inside. A sweet drizzle of sauce and a hint of ginger. It didn't just hit the spot—it built a house on the spot, moved in, and paid rent early.
For a second, nothing else mattered. Not the nobles. Not the accusations. Not the mystery shove.
Just me and my takoyaki.
Eventually, I let out a deep, relieved sigh like I'd just returned from a holy pilgrimage. Alepou raised a single eyebrow.
"Feel better now?"
Mouth full, I nodded and mumbled, "Mmmfhmm."
She chuckled. Actually chuckled. "Good. Because once you're done eating… you've got some explaining to do."
I glanced around at everyone—Alepou, Marco, the nobles, the prince, the crowd, even that crusty old geezer—and realized something.
Yeah. Something weird was going on. Something off-script. Like this whole world just took a sharp turn into an unscheduled subplot.
But right now? Food first.
Then, I'll figure out who really shoved Alepou.
Then, I'll clean up this mess.
Then... I'll find out what the hell is really going on here.
Because I can feel it—this chaos?
It's only the beginning.