For a place he’d been lured into by a merchant’s sales pitch, the restaurant was surprisingly nice. Despite its worn exterior, the inside exuded a traditional charm, and nearly every table was full. Among the patrons were backpack-toting tourists like Luke and locals who seemed more at ease. The lively chatter made the interior quite noisy.

"I'll go with this menu item," Luke said, pointing to the board.

"Good choice! You've got a sharp eye. That’s our best-selling dish," the employee said with a hearty laugh, taking back the menu.

"You’re really going to serve a generous portion, right?" Luke teased.

"Of course! Our chef’s got a soft spot for good-looking folks," the employee whispered, gesturing toward the kitchen. Following the direction, Luke spotted a woman with her hair tied back, shyly waving at him. Dressed in full chef’s attire with a proper hat, she was undoubtedly the head chef of this establishment.

Luke wasn’t sure why she was waving at him, but he returned the gesture nonetheless. While nibbling on the freshly baked bread and sipping the water provided as appetizers, Luke surveyed the restaurant. His seat happened to be in the corner, giving him a clear view of the bustling interior.

The dim lighting and soft glow of the fixtures created a cozy, almost tavern-like atmosphere despite it being a restaurant. The place was adorned with charming decorations, most notably a sculpture modeled after the massive river that ran through the southern region. Beside it was a small replica of a boat, and the addition of palm tree figurines scattered throughout made the setting feel almost foreign compared to the capital.

"Here’s your food," the employee announced.

The meat, glazed with a special sauce, glistened temptingly, and the grilled sausages beside it oozed juices.

"Is this place famous?" Luke asked as the employee approached again.

"You bet! This shop’s been around for ages. It used to be a local favorite, but ever since tourists started flocking here, word of mouth has really taken off," the employee replied proudly.

"I see," Luke said, popping a piece of meat into his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue, it melted away, bursting with flavor. It was no exaggeration to call it exceptional.

It struck Luke how different this part of the capital felt. The central region where he’d spent most of his time was dominated by the Imperial Palace and military facilities, exuding rigidity and formality. Here, the atmosphere was freer, almost liberating.

"Not bad," Luke murmured to himself.

Initially, he’d thought the day was completely ruined. Everything had gone wrong, and his plans had been derailed. Yet, here he was, enjoying delicious food and the lively ambiance of the restaurant. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

In the military, such moments were unthinkable. Rules, ranks, and orders dictated every aspect of life. The joy of something as simple as sharing a meal in a bustling restaurant was beyond reach in that world.

For the first time, Luke felt a sense of liberation. He was no longer bound by the role of the villain or the expectations of his setting. He could live as he pleased. What did it matter if his plans changed? He had all the time in the world.

With a light heart, Luke began to devour his meal, much to the delight of the head chef, who watched him eat from afar with a content smile. The food tasted even better with the added flavor of his newfound freedom. Despite not having a large appetite, he found himself finishing the meal with ease.

"So, what do you think of the Empire’s new Commander-in-Chief?"

Luke’s hand froze mid-motion at the sudden voice behind him.

"What’s there to think? He just took the position. It’s too soon to judge," another voice responded.

Turning his head slightly, Luke spotted a group of middle-aged men at the table behind him. Judging by their appearance, they seemed like locals rather than tourists. Their table was littered with beer mugs, the frothy residue suggesting they’d had their fair share already.

"So far, there hasn’t been much trouble. I’d say he’s doing well enough," one of them remarked.

It was a common scene—citizens chatting about their emperor or high-ranking officials over drinks, critiquing them as if it were their birthright.

Luke couldn’t help but tune in. After all, not long ago, he had been part of the military, and the subject of their discussion was someone he knew very well.

"Well, of course, there’s no trouble. He inherited the position at the perfect time. Bale Winiam cleaned up the Membern War before stepping down, didn’t he?"

"Is that so?"

"Exactly. It’s not about the new Commander’s skills. It’s just good timing. Pure luck."

Luke’s eyebrow twitched. It was true that Bale had resolved the Membern incident before retiring, but that was how it was supposed to be. What kind of predecessor would leave unresolved issues for their successor? That would be nothing short of irresponsibility.

"I’m honestly a bit worried. Isn’t the guy pretty young? No matter how skilled he is, it’s hard to trust someone that young."

"I agree. What’s the Imperial Palace and military thinking, handing such an important role to a kid who barely knows the world?"

That "kid," Luke thought, was widely regarded as the most competent Commander-in-Chief in Imperial history. He couldn’t understand why older people often dismissed younger talent outright.

By now, Luke had forgotten about his meal entirely, engrossed in eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Isn’t the new Commander the heir to that famous ducal family? No matter how much they preach meritocracy, you can’t tell me that family’s influence wasn’t involved."

"Yeah, no doubt."

Thud.

The sound of a mug slamming onto the table cut through the conversation. The men turned to the source of the noise, startled.

"Excuse me," Luke said, flashing a disarming smile as he turned toward their table. "I’m eating alone and feeling a bit bored. Mind if I join you? Your conversation sounds pretty interesting."

"Huh?"

Luke’s affable demeanor caught them off guard, but they quickly waved him over.

"Sure, have a seat! The more, the merrier."

"Thanks. Drinks are always better with company, right?"

"Exactly!"

"By the way," Luke said, eyeing their empty mugs, "you’re out of drinks. That won’t do. Let me order some more. Hey, can we get ten beers over here?"

"Ten?!"

Their eyes widened at the quantity, but Luke quickly reassured them.

"Don’t worry, it’s on me. It’s the least I can do for letting me join your lively conversation."

"Well, in that case, cheers!"

What followed was a steady flow of beer and increasingly incoherent chatter. Luke kept the drinks coming, strategically steering the conversation back to the Commander-in-Chief whenever it strayed.

One by one, the men succumbed to the alcohol, slumping over the table.

"……."

Luke’s cheerful expression vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating look. He stared at their unconscious forms before rising from his seat and gathering his things.

At the counter, the employee who had invited Luke in earlier approached him curiously. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, no problem. They were just being friendly. The people here are so welcoming," Luke said with a warm smile.

"That’s good to hear. Come back anytime!"

"I will. Oh, and the beers? They insisted on covering those, so I only need to pay for my meal. Thanks again," Luke said, handing over the exact amount for the barbecue.

With that, Luke exited the restaurant, leaving behind a scene of snoozing drunkards.

As the moonlight illuminated the now-quiet street, Luke muttered under his breath, "Criticize him, will you? After all I did to help him..."

Yet, he wasn’t angry. On the contrary, he felt strangely refreshed as he walked off to find a place to stay for the night.