Our meal was extravagant as expected of this inn.
Meat, fish, salad, and soup. Every single one of them is flavorful.
I'm probably starving for strong seasoning. We only used a bit of salt in the village after all.
I quickly cleaned up my plates.
Once we were done and rested a bit, Aryl stood up, 'Now then.'
I followed after her.
We gave the room key back at receptionist.
"We await your next patronage."
Thus we left the inn hearing that.
"Let's go!"
Aryl briskly walked on the main street.
The street is crowded even though it's still early in the morning.
Those briskly heading to their job, those selling food, those enjoying the morning, sounds of chatters between people haggling, those pulling loaded carts toward the gate.
All kinds of [People] living [Passionately] in this city.
(Really makes me feel how [Cold] my past [Life] was.)
Observing my surroundings while commuting back then would show tired looking people, faces glued to their phones or those wearing earphones to shut themselves out of the world before we all packed ourselves full in the train.
Both of them aren't really different in nature, yet just what makes them so separate?
As I was thinking that, we arrived at the merchant association.
However, its state in the morning was overwhelming.
So many merchants are coming and going, exchanging money, doing business talks and even unloading and loading their carts around the entrance.
Negotiations here and there, and commodity jam packed everywhere.
(It's like I'm in a busy fishing harbor...)
These spectacles were all over the place, not just inside buildings.
Undaunted, Aryl pushed her way through the crowd toward the receptionist counters.
(Should I go with her or not?)
I'm reluctant to squeeze myself in that sardine can, but I persevere.
The crowd eased up once we got through the entrance.
There are three queues in front of the receptionist, calm and quiet unlike the chaos behind.
The two states aren't mixed as if there were a clear line delineating them.
(Some sort of a tacit rule? At least I can take a breather now.)
Aryl lined up on the leftmost queue to wait for her turn.
Meanwhile, I leaned my back on a wall and relaxed myself.
There's no point in me queueing with her, so I take this chance to look around.
The ones queueing are all old men. All men and not a single one looks young.
There's even an old man with a bent back.
(I've got a mixed feeling about this. I got reborn in this world with a 28 year old inner self. It's been 15 years since then and yet I don't feel like a 43 year old...)
It's not like my mind acts as young as my body either.
My self-consciousness is frozen at [My] past life state.
Meanwhile, Aryl had finished her business and walked up toward me.
Other merchants were gazing at her like they were evaluating her.