Dustin and Grace were just watching the scene unfold when, suddenly, the ponytailed girl turned her focus on them. It took them a moment to shake off the surprise.
“Exactly! Just look at their dishes. Each is a culinary masterpiece. Compare that to what we’ve got on our table-it’s just garbage!”
“I don’t care! Swap our food right now, or we’ll cause a scene!” the group shouted. In the middle of their protest, they angrily tossed the food from their table onto the floor, making a mess.
“I’m afraid our small establishment has a few constraints when it comes to swapping these exquisite dishes,” the waiter explained, wearing a regretful and apologetic expression.
“You can’t swap them? Are you suggesting that we can’t afford it?” Bran frowned.
“Damn! Are you seriously discriminating against us? Do you even know who we are?” the ponytailed girl shouted.1
“We are disciples of the renowned Frostwing Sect. If you piss us off, we might just have to give your inn a bit of a makeover, you know?” she threatened.
“I’m sorry. It looks like there’s a bit of a misunderstanding,” the nervous waiter clarified.1
He continued, “The other guests’ personal chefs prepared those dishes. We provide only the kitchen facilities.”
“What? Personal chefs? Seriously? Who in the world hires a chef while traveling?” The ponytailed girl seemed skeptical.
She knew that those who explored the Deadlands were typically treasure- hunting adventurers. However, bringing a personal chef on such a journey was unheard of.
“It’s true. I witnessed it myself. I wouldn’t lie to you,” the waiter earnestly insisted. Upon hearing this, the Frostwing Sect disciples exchanged glances. They eventually directed their attention toward Dustin and Grace.
“Hey, are these dishes prepared by your chef?” The ponytailed girl approached, inspecting their table with a curious gaze.
“Yes.” Grace nodded. “We decided to bring our chef because we couldn’t get used to the local cuisine.”
“Really?” The ponytailed girl scrutinized the dishes on the table and couldn’t hide her awe.
She continued, “Shrimp Avocado Salad, Pecan-Crusted Trout Fillet, Spicy Chicken Tacos, Maple-Glazed Pork Bites, and even Clam Chowder. There’s a variety of mouthwatering dishes. Do you think you guys can finish all of this?”
Without giving Grace a chance to reply, the girl snagged a fork and sampled a bit of the filet. In an instant, her eyes sparkled, and a look of pleasant surprise flashed across her face.
“This is so tasty!”
She quickly motioned for the others to join, not noticing Dustin and Grace’s reactions. “Hey Bran, check this out! We’ve got something delicious here. Come over and give it a try!”
Disregarding Grace and Dustin’s feelings, the ponytailed girl rallied her fellow sect members.
Faced with the irresistible spread of dishes, they couldn’t resist the temptation. Their delight was immeasurable after traveling a significant distance and being utterly hungry.
“We’re taking over this table, so you guys might want to scout out a different table for your meal,” Bran declared. He casually tossed a gold bar onto the table arrogantly.
“Huh?” Dustin raised an eyebrow, shooting them a disdainful look. “Got an issue here? Just barging in without an invite and now trying to boot us out? Do you think you own this inn?”
If these people were a bit more easygoing, maybe a friendly drink or meal could have been in the cards, and friendship might have blossomed.
However, their arrogance and lack of respect just made Dustin see them in a less favorable light.
“What’s your problem? Not satisfied? Okay, let me throw in some more.” Bran flaunted his arrogance, tossing another gold bar onto the table. “Is this enough for you now?”
“Is this all we get? Seriously, treating us like we’re begging for scraps?” Dustin casually waved his hand, sending the two gold bars soaring in the air. He didn’t bother giving them a second look.
“Wow, he’s pretty bold!”
“This is unacceptable!”
“Unbelievable!”
Dustin stirred things up with his actions, sparking some intense protests from the disciples of the Frostwing Sect.
Being part of such a highly regarded sect in the martial world, they were used to being treated with respect wherever they went. But Dustin showed no consideration for their reputation.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” the ponytailed girl snapped, slamming the table in frustration.
She added, “Do you know who we are? We’re disciples of the Frostwing Sect, one of the big three sects in the Southwest. Check the whole martial world, and nobody dares to disrespect us!”
“Frostwing Sect? So what?” Dustin said impassively, and he took a sip of his drink.
“So what? Listen up. We’re claiming this table today. If you’re smart, grab those gold bars and scoot, or things might get a bit less friendly around here!” she warned.
“Oh? How uncivilized of you,” Dustin said with a sneer.
He’d dealt with his fair share of arrogant people, but facing a scenario where someone was ready to resort to violence over a meal was new for him.
Without hesitation, the ponytailed girl drew her sword and issued a stern warning, “Here’s your last chance. Leave now, or I’ll make sure you end up with a few extra holes!”
“You might want to reconsider waving that sword around. If you decide to swing, I won’t be pulling any punches, and you could end up regretting it,” Dustin calmly said, his gaze not even meeting her directly.
“You’re pushing your luck here!”
Fuming with anger, she swiftly swung her sword at him. The strike was quick and accurate, which could pose a challenge for an ordinary warrior.
However, he didn’t budge. He held his drink calmly in one hand and effortlessly intercepted the blade with the other.
The whole exchange seemed practiced and effortless, as if they had rehearsed it before. Dustin never made direct eye contact with the ponytailed girl throughout it all.
“Hmm?” She was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. Her full- force attack had been effortlessly caught between two fingers, leaving her momentarily stunned.
Her mind buzzed with questions-how could this be happening? Though she might not stand out in the sect, she was far from an average martial artist.
Considering her age was close to Dustin’s, she should have been able to outmatch him effortlessly. So, why was he now suppressing her?
She couldn’t help but wonder just who exactly was this guy.
“Flaunting your power with that little strength of yours, huh? It’s like you’ve never faced the harsh realities of the real world,” Dustin remarked with a sneer.
He couldn’t help but wonder how a low- level martial artist, who hadn’t even broken through to the next level, could muster the audacity to behave so arrogantly.
