A new face appeared in the old tavern across from the Adventurer’s Guild.
From her build, she seed to be a young girl. Her slender fra was wrapped in a loose black cloak, the oversized hood pulled so low that only the line of her delicate chin and small cherry lips could be seen.
At first glance, she didn’t look like an adventurer at all—more like a young noble lady sneaking out from so wealthy household.
A mysterious new face always drew attention, especially one so out of place in this city.
But the girl ignored the stares.
After ordering a al, she chose a quiet corner and sat down, waiting in silence.
Faint whispers drifted to her ears:
“Did you hear? They say so adventurer soloed that C-rank Swamp Labyrinth.”
“No way, that’s gotta be a rumor.”
“Probably so big shot smurfing. Maybe even an S-rank.”
“I heard it was a little girl, soone nobody recognized…”
The chatter went on, but she paid it no mind. She just waited.
Before long, the waiter brought her al.
A bowl of at porridge, a piece of bread, a few slices of sausage, a serving of salad, and a custard pudding.
And a tall mug of foamy, chilled beer.
For a girl of her size, it was quite a lot.
She sat upright, posture perfect, and raised a wooden spoon to her lips.
The porridge was thick, studded with bits of soft rice and minced at. She carefully took a sip, lips pursed.
The warmth and graininess spread across her tongue, the rice cooked to mush, blended with the savory salt of the at.
A light chew, a gentle swallow, and the porridge slid warmly down her throat.
“Salty.”
She murmured an evaluation.
Setting the bowl down, she picked up the bread.
Her slender fingers tore off a piece, and she bit into it.
Her teeth first broke through the chewy crust, then sank into the soft, buttery crumb.
The aroma of wheat blood in her mouth.
Crushed, moistened, swallowed—solid, satisfying.
“The wheat aroma… with butter too…”
The taste was salty, but faintly sweet.
Next ca the sausage.
She speared a slice with her fork—its edges charred, surface glistening.
Her teeth cut easily through the casing. The smoky, salty fat burst out, at fibers separating under her bite.
Rich, smoky flavor filled her mouth.
Even after swallowing, the aftertaste lingered.
“A curious mix of flavors… but far too salty.”
Then she tried the salad.
Crisp leaves crunched under her teeth with a light crack.
Juice flooded her tongue, cool and faintly sweet, washing away the sausage’s heavy salt.
Finally, the pale-yellow custard pudding.
Her small spoon tapped it, and it trembled delicately. Its surface was glazed with caralized sugar, golden-brown and glossy.
On her tongue, it dissolved instantly. Cold, smooth, rich with milk and sweetness, lting into pure bliss.
Before the sweetness had faded, she raised her mug.
Cold, bitter liquid rushed into her mouth, foam clinging to her lips.
The malt aroma, the bite of hops—washing away the pudding’s cloying sweetness perfectly.
The bubbles danced on her tongue.
One sip. Another.
The mug tilted higher and higher. Her throat moved again and again, sending the cool bitterness pouring into her stomach.
The onlookers gawked. Was she really going to down the whole thing?
Indeed, she was.
When she set the mug down with a thump, it was empty.
She stared at the food still left on the table. Then, suddenly, her slender shoulders trembled as she covered her face with both hands—like hiding sothing.
The onlookers imdiately imagined a drama: A runaway noble girl, fleeing from a forced marriage, drowning her fears in drink.
But in truth, she covered her face only to hide the uncontrollable expression twisting her features.
“Five years. Five years…! Do you know how I lived those five years?!”
“Eating moss! Drinking muddy water! Trapped in a sunless labyrinth, surrounded by dumb low-level monsters I couldn’t even talk to!”
After five long years, Russell was tasting real food again.
Ordinary food, yes—but he wanted to laugh aloud, even compose poetry on the spot.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Mr. Sli?”
Rozelite’s voice rang in his mind, warm with joy.
“Finally, you can taste food again.”
“Yeah.”
The journey had been brutal. Russell couldn’t help but sigh.
When 【Symbiosis】 reached Level 8, new changes erged.
First—he could now connect far deeper, far more precisely, into the body’s neural network.
At Level 6, he could manage it, but it always felt clumsy, distant, like playing through a screen with lag. And he couldn’t fully share Rozelite’s senses.
But now—no lag at all.
Controlling her body felt natural, seamless, as though it were his own.
And more, he could finally experience the five senses again.
Sight. Hearing. Sll. Taste. Touch.
The senses he had lost after reincarnating as a sli—restored at last.
Food danced on his tongue, slid warmly down his throat… familiar yet foreign sensations that overwheld him with joy.
And that wasn’t all.
Their connection had deepened ntally as well.
Before, Russell had needed 【ntal Integration】 to converse with Rozelite in thought, and even then, there was always a delay. Without it, he could only sense vague emotions and thoughts.
But now, they could converse directly. Instantly.
With 【ntal Integration】 layered on, they could even glimpse each other’s exact intentions, almost sharing a single mind.
Not just “understanding each other”—but truly another self.
At this mont, Russell and Rozelite had achieved genuine two bodies, one heart.
“So, Mr. Sli, what should we do next?”
Rozelite asked.
Russell thought aloud.
“We’ve got money now. No rush. Let’s rest for a couple of days, recover, then decide whether to stay longer or move on. What do you think?”
“I don’t mind. I’ll follow whatever you say.”
“Heh…”
Russell chuckled.
His gaze returned to the food. Ordinary fare, yes, but to him—after five years—it was divine.
He picked up his fork, ready to finish the rest—
When, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a brown-haired young man rise from a corner of the tavern, walking straight toward him.
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