"Couldn't you have grown up..."

"Ha, that's all right. Besides, if you hadn't moved over there, I would have."

A few minutes walking from just about anything.

He was pounding and spilling as Merea admonished herself as she walked down a boulevard with just a few more gaps.

He's posing with one hand on his forehead and just saying, "I've done it."

Next to it, Salman used to slap Merea on the back for fun.

"Whatever you want, you can pull it off."

"That would be a little comforting."

Melea lowers her brow butt and smiles small and bitterly. It was the opposite of the transcendent air when it was relative to the merchant, and just looking at the look on its face, it was like a slightly weak young man who seemed to be everywhere.

"And look, this guy's gonna be so happy."

Seeing such a melea, Salman went on to spin the words.

Salman's hand, with his eyebrows raised and a pleasant grin, points in a direction with his thumbs up.

It was opposite to Merea, across Salman's body in the opposite neighboring direction.

"Ugh, happy and so on!

There was an appearance of Elma walking in a slightly messy manner. It keeps an exquisite position about a step behind Merea.

I was nagging, and the brunette, a lot sarcastic compared to before, partially covered her expression.

When Salman spoke with such a prank (mischievous) look on Elma's face, Elma glanced at Zhu's dyed cheeks from beneath her dark hair and raised a protest.

"Beh, I'm still..."

"Ugh. Aren't you glad you covered me?

"Whoa, you, don't say anything extra! Even if I didn't, I was mistaken for putting it in my mouth."

"Is that a mistake?

……

When Salman was deliberate and questioned her neck in a heartfelt wonder, Elma eventually relaxed again with her mouth full. Bring the black forehead deep into your eyes and cover your eyes.

But on the verge of getting sick that way, Salman firmly saw how thick the red tide on its beauty had gotten.

Slightly, I hear her start bumping and spelling all by herself with her fingers pointing straight at each other, admonishing herself just a little "too much" inside.

"Sal! Elma, I'm not bullying you!" "To you monkey!

Then the twins, who were making a fuss about what could have been behind Salman, watched for the current exchange and flew their voices to Salman.

There are two large sticked candies in hand between the two of them, and they come to be assured that it is the product of a deal they just made with Merea.

"Okay, okay. - Mina, don't you think I should just say 'monkey shit' these days?

"So hehe."

"Deny it..."

"I'm letting you complain!

"Ha..."

My twin sister (Ice King) Mina laughs as she peppers the big sticky candy she bought at the passing confectionery store.

Salman sighed looking at her as well, ending the topic with a throw "okay".

"So, the Golden Victim"

And, that's how Salman leaves his gaze gently behind, changing the spearhead of the word.

"Yes?"

It was Shaw who came forward a short while in response to Salman's voice.

"Where am I supposed to turn? Inn, you said the alley next door.

"Oh, right. Shall we turn around?"

Shaw glanced around.

Eventually, in less than a few seconds, he discovers the sidewalk of the boulevard and points there.

"Shall we get out of there? - Melea, is that okay?

"Of course."

A line of demon kings sees the end of Shaw's finger at the same time.

Merea nodded back at Shaw's inquiry, and the line changed the direction of her toes in response to Shaw's guidance.

◆ ◆ ◆

Merea stepped onto the sidewalk between the brick building hung by a sign marked 'Antique Shop Huluz' and the 'Museum of Strange Art' and the gray building carved intact on the wall.

"Even the Museum of Strange Art. Merea, if you go, you can decorate it, right?

"I'm from Lindholm Spiritual Mountain."

"I don't know. Strange in the midst of the surgery, it's going to be hard to collect again... That, for better or worse, briefly explains the events that were previously unidentified."

Merea and the others walk through that narrow alley with chatter.

When I said crossroads, there were also sparse surgical lights hanging on the exterior walls, which never meant it was too dark.

Except for the suspicious atmosphere of the adjacent shops, and thus the colour of the surgical lights looks somewhat odd, there is nothing particularly odd about it.

Once you pass the sidewalk, exit into the alley next to one.

"It's next door to the left from Central Street, so this is the lodging street."

At some point Shaw spread the map on hand and nodded as he looked at it.

"What's the name of the inn?

Melea frowns and asks.

"The Millenium of the Thousand Years Pavilion," the Inn.

"Ha, that's kind of a big name. - I don't hate it."

Melea, who received Shaw's immediate answer, said with a pleasant grin on her face all the time.

"May every inn be an art of survival for a thousand years," he said.

"While it's good, it's good for a thousand years."

It was Salman who answered Shaw's next words. He has the same grin on his face as Merea.

As Salman put it, Shaw also replied with a mild look while slightly disfigured and adding a gesture.

"Don't you also have the belief that endless art is not art?"

"Ha... - too many residents here are difficult ones..."

Not as palpable as mouthing a person's view of art, Salman cannot help but sigh at the multiplicity of that view of art.

The spilled sigh ascended into the sky in a puffy and light condition, sucked into the air of the city of art.

One line walks in chatter again for a while, and finally finds the sign of the inn.

"There was."

I pointed my finger as Merea looked away.

"I can't see you at all."

Yeah, there it is.

In contrast to Salman's answer, Eyes, who was walking shoulder to shoulder with Siladis in armor, was showing a stiff nod.

"Really, you guys have good eyes..."

Salman tells Melea and Eyes, spilling it small, even though he is a good one himself.

To such Salman's words, Merea deliberately spread her hands, "Wouldn't you?" But I pose all the time. Gray hair shook left and right with pleasure on the clap, and the prickly cloak that I was wearing fluttered.

The opposing Eyes have a lit grin and a red tide on their cheeks. To the praise without Salman's back, but Eyes seemed to have an extraordinary joy.

Other demon kings quietly perceived the complexity of her birth as confusing to the reaction.

But the demon kings dare not touch it there.

That doesn't mean you care about Eyes specifically.

There was nothing like daring to shake it out, not in the current exchange. - It's obvious.

I just praised the obvious, of course.

I haven't had it before, so I'm just not used to it yet.

It is very good to be strongly pleased with such a small thing, but if we are satisfied there, our own feet lose the power to kick the ground.

This is still a prelude.

So I don't dare touch you there.

In response, the Demon Kings began to walk again, joking and agreeing with each other.

◆ ◆ ◆

"I'm sorry."

The Millennium Pavilion.

Unlike the many stone-based architectural styles that existed on the front street, the material of the inn was wood.

But it's brilliant wood.

The wood, coloured slightly deeper brown, gives a sense of wonder and weight of time just by looking at the wood pattern on its surface.

It's heavy and it conveys something like majesty.

The hanging light lowered under the inn was also a handheld fuel lamp, not a surgical lamp.

Surgical lights are often used only by hanging stones or the like carved with a lighting technique, which is quite convenient, while slightly lacking in flair.

Surgical lights are surgical lights, which are far-reaching when you begin to focus on decoration and constitutive techniques, but many emphasize ease because if you have an artist who can handle engraved surgical methods, you can produce them in mass.

What was appropriately offered throughout the city and in front of the house was basically simple.

"Hey, that's good. I thought it would be nice to have this kind of feeling when you're on a trip."

Said Salman as he looked at the smudge and its fuel lamp.

"I don't know what that feels like."

Melea answers Salman's words as he nods.

From Merea's point of view, the flair of the fuel lamp was really pleasant.

- I wonder if fuel is oil.

Seeing the colour of the lights pull over even brighter oranges than normal flames, they may be utilizing special oils.

Seeing these tools, which were already classic even in previous life, Melea also feels freshness.

For Melea, this world is basically full of fantastic beauty, but when I saw something like this that made me feel old-fashioned in the values of both worlds, I also felt a new flair.

"There you are."

And at that time, there was a voice to answer to the voice of Shaw, who took the initiative and stepped into the millennium of the thousand year pavilion.

As I stretch my neck from the front door of the inn and look inside, I can see an elegant old man with a white beard coming out of the door.

It's a door to a place with a counter, so I guess that's the kiosk's work room.

The old pavilion owner took out the smoked (much) silver glasses with the season from the nostalgia (two places) and looked at Shaw again on his face.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Sherwood and I have booked a stay starting today."

"Oh, Master Sherwood. I've been waiting for you."

Apparently, they're talking.

Of course I wasn't suspicious, but Melea is a little relieved by the kiosk's reaction.

"We will show you to your room. By the way, most upstairs rooms are rented by Sherwood."

"I'm sorry I pushed you so hard."

"No, as long as you're happy to see me in this city with lots of accommodation"

"Because the pavilion owner has a great aesthetic taste."

Soon Shaw and the pavilion owner laughed at each other.

Merea followed them, too, marveling at the mouth of Shaw, whose praise for the inn came out as an infinite spring water.

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