Chapter 1917 by Marina Vittori

In the inn, Dustin changed into clean clothes and sneezed. “I wonder who’s talking about me,” he mumbled, rubbing his nose.

Then, he left the room and headed to the dining hall. The dining area, originally a school cafeteria, was quite spacious. It covered around 600 to 700 square feet and easily fit over a hundred people.

“Over here.”

Grace waved at him as he walked in. He made his way over, noticing a table adorned with more than a dozen mouth -watering dishes.

“Our chef whipped up these dishes, so feel free to dig. They’re not just tasty but also safe,” she assured.

“You’re playing it safe and all.” Dustin chuckled, sliding into a seat before diving into the food without a second thought.

“It’s always a good call to be careful when you’re out and about, especially in the outskirts of the Deadlands. You never know what kind of dangers lurk around, and a single misstep could be fatal,” Grace explained as she enjoyed her meal.

Suddenly, a group of young men and women dressed in green, wielding swords, barged into the inn. They exuded a powerful presence and had sharp gazes. It seemed they were disciples of the martial world’s sect.

A slender man in his 30s was at the forefront. He had a sharply curved nose and fierce expression.

“Bran, doesn’t this place look a bit rundown? I mean, there’s so much filth around. How can we even eat here?” a girl in a ponytail remarked, clearly not impressed.

“We don’t really have a choice. The circumstances are special this time around. We’ll just have to make the best of it,” the man with the sharply curved nose, Bran, gently explained.

“Fine. Since we’re already here, let’s just grab a bite. I’m starving.”

Then, she spotted a tidy table and said, “Hey! Waiter! Serve me your finest dishes!”

“Sure thing!” the waiter replied with a bright smile, signaling the chef to whip up some exquisite dishes for them.

After taking a bite, she promptly spat it out. “Ugh! What’s this? Why does it taste so terrible? It’s gross!”

“This is outrageous!” Bran slammed the table and shouted, “Are you trying to mess with us on purpose with this awful food?”

“Do you even know who we are? You’ve got some nerve to treat us like this! Keep it up, and we might have to bring this whole place down!” The ponytailed girl stood up, giving the waiter a warning with a menacing tone.

A few other disciples chimed in, all sporting fierce expressions.

“Dear guests, we sincerely apologize. These are the finest ingredients our small establishment has to offer. If anything falls short, we appreciate your understanding,” the waiter apologized, looking a bit nervous.

“You’re lying!” she exclaimed, rising from her seat.

She pointed at Dustin and Grace, raising her voice. “Why does their food look tastier than ours? You’re clearly looking down on us!”