#1143 Question Time

I am Rita-Shiera, the courtesan.

And so, this so-called mixer continues on.

“All right then, since this is a mixer, let’s bust out the booze! Nothing breaks the ice like a good drink! We’ve got fries on the table, so obviously, beer’s the perfect match!!!”

They hand me a brimming cup of foamy liquid.
This…is really tasty?!

The chilled drink tickles my tongue, and the fizzy bubbles slide right down my throat.
The cold, bubbly texture washes away the oily aftertaste of the fries!

Yes indeed, beer and fries make a perfect duo!
Not even the fanciest restaurant in the royal capital would give you a combo this heavenly!!!

“Hey there, Table Eight! Sorry for the wait!”
“How come you’re the only one running around serving us?”

Unbelievable…!
I’m starting to see how frighteningly impressive the Farm Kingdom really is.

I had assumed it was an untamed frontier, but here I find buildings and cuisine rivaling anything in the capital.
Maybe even surpassing its quality of life.

We came here thinking we’d fallen from grace, leaving the royal city for some backwater. None of us courtesans expected it to be so comfortable.

Our brothel’s mistress…did she know all this when she sent us out here?
I doubt even she could’ve planned so far ahead. Yet some part of me can’t help wondering if that’s exactly what happened.

This development site is so unnervingly perfect it almost scares me, but that doesn’t mean I have nothing to complain about; there’s always something.

No question, it’s a lovely place to live and eat. But if there’s one lingering worry…

…it would be the men right in front of me.

“Um…n-nice weather, huh?”
“Indeed. Absolutely splendid. Ohohohohoho…”
“Hahaha…!”
“Oh my, your cup is empty. Let me refill it for you.”
“Gah- Th-Thank you kindly!”

They’re stiff as boards.

Can’t say I blame them.
These men ended up here in this frontier.

I hear they were recruited from among the adventurers who were willing to come. If they volunteered, it means they couldn’t cut it as adventurers in the first place.

After all, if they’d actually made something of themselves in their field, they wouldn’t switch tracks and move to an entirely different line of work.
No matter how much adventurers value “new challenges.”

So, to put it bluntly, these guys are the ones who never succeeded as adventurers.
In other words, they don’t have much financial clout.

A man with a thin purse can only dream of expensive courtesans who might cost tens or even hundreds of thousands a night.
And now, that very same “out-of-reach” prize is sitting across the table. Of course they’d be nervous.

That’s my read on why they’re completely on edge.

But don’t get the wrong idea.
It’s not like I’m mocking or looking down on them.

I’m a professional. If someone pays the set fee and follows the country’s rules and the establishment’s etiquette, then anyone can be my customer.
And I’ll give them my very best service.
That’s how I climbed to the number one spot.

Even here, that’s not about to change.

I transferred to this frontier at the nation’s request.
I understood I’d be soothing the workers out here, at the government’s behest.

Client and courtesan.
Ordinarily, that straightforward relationship would mean the men wouldn’t shrink back so awkwardly.
Handing over money builds a natural sense of confidence in most people, and we’ve got our own little tricks to help them relax and have fun.

But for some reason, the master of this land broke that simple, comfortable structure and replaced it with something newfangled and confusing.

A mixer, seriously?
Sticking to the usual tried-and-true format would’ve been easier for everyone.

They’re already busy working the fields; why add more trial-and-error to the mix?

And that comment the lady made earlier, calling us “potential brides,” is completely off the mark.

We’re like resting stops for lonely men offering a night of love, nothing more.
Many men have found a perch with us and gone on their way, soothed and comforted.

Settling down with just one partner is impossible.

As I’m half-smirking at the idea, the master of the house, seemingly oblivious, barrels forward in an attempt to see this little event to completion.

“All right, next up is the question corner! You can’t get close if you don’t know each other, so everyone should start asking whatever you want to know! Let’s go, people!”

Why is he so upbeat about everything?
Still, I can’t ignore him once he’s encouraging us.

“S-So…what’s your occupation?”
“I’m a courtesan. And you?”
“I do a bit of…land development.”

Not much progress there.
I mean, why ask for our jobs when we already know the answers?

Meanwhile, our illustrious landowner is going full throttle...

“If you’re too shy to come up with questions, I’ve prepared a helpful cheat sheet! Here’s a big board crammed with sample questions to keep things flowing!!!”

Printed in large letters is a whole list of topics:

— “What are your hobbies?”
— “How do you spend your day off?”
— “What’s your favorite food?”
— “What’s your favorite animal?”
— “Do you have a favorite book?”
— “Got a favorite movie?”
— “Any favorite actors?”
— “Favorite musicians?”
— “Where are you from?”
— “What’s your dream for the future?”
— “What’s your ideal date spot?”
— “What kind of person do you like?”
— “What gift would make you happiest?”
— “Which tax would you want gone forever?”
— “In a fire, what’s the one thing you’d take?”
— “What’s the final word you want to say in life?”
— “Any favorite quotes from great figures?”
— “Which warlord of the Sengoku era do you admire?”
— “Which Stand power is your favorite?”
— “Which Mobile Suit do you like best?”
— “What’s your favorite Bankai?”
—and more.

I see.
So we’re supposed to fire off questions from this list to keep conversations moving more smoothly.

But how did he get such a huge sign with all that text?

“All right, to make questioning even more fun, I’ve also prepared a special die! Roll it, see which number comes up, and ask whatever question it corresponds to. Randomness means fairness!”
“That multi-faced thing has way more sides than a normal ten-sided die, you know.”

Ignoring his wife’s pointed remark, he tosses the not-so-much-a-die-as-a-giant-sphere into the air.

“What’ll it land on, what’ll it land on…♪”

Why is he so relentlessly pumped about everything?

“Yes! Our first question is… ‘How do you want to live your life?’!”

That’s how we ended up asking and answering various questions.

Though the group of us remained a little awkward, we still reacted to each other’s answers with genuine surprise and excitement, and before we knew it, conversation was flowing.

It looked chaotic, but it turned out surprisingly effective.
Guided questions are real conversations, after all. If you’re forced to keep that question-answer rhythm going, you naturally find a groove.

“Now that everyone’s loosened up, it’s time for the gold standard of mixers: the King’s Game!”
“Stop right there, Dear. That’s got ‘dangerous territory’ written all over it, so let’s skip it.”

The next question was decided.

…Where are you from?

That’s tricky for me.
All my memories of my hometown are from before I was sent to the capital to become a courtesan.
I don’t have any real attachment or nostalgia for it, so it’s not a topic that’ll lead to a fun conversation.

I’ll just tell the truth: “I left when I was really young, so I don’t remember much.” Then move on.
I have nothing to hide.

“Huh…wait, what?”

Suddenly, one of the men sitting across from me has a weird look on his face, like he just stumbled on something unbelievable.

And then:

“Ma’am…you’re from the same village as me?”
“Wait, really?”

Running into someone from your hometown at the edge of nowhere.
That’s definitely a surprise.

Finding out we’re from the same place put me on edge in a way I wasn’t expecting.
I’ve barely got any memories of it, but hearing someone else is from there too makes me strangely excited. Home is such a curious thing.

And if I look closely at him, he seems to be around my age.
That old village wasn’t huge, so maybe we actually met as kids.

…...
...Hold on a second.

“M-Mac?”
“Tomia?!”

He wasn’t just a fellow villager; he was my childhood friend, someone I hadn’t seen in decades.