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Wait… Is that tears?!
"Tastes like home."
Sniffling, he took another spoonful, mumbling through his emotions.
"Damn… The chefs in Sunset Province don’t understand flavors like this. I haven’t had anything like this in five, maybe six years." He brought the bowl to his lips and started shoveling it down. The soot-colored soup clung to his mustache, but he didn’t even notice.
Battlefield Cheerleader couldn’t believe it. "Isn’t beet soup supposed to be… red?"
Cowley paused. "Red? Is it red in Brocade River Province?"
Battlefield Cheerleader gulped nervously. "Yours is… black?"
Cowley nodded with a weird expression. "The texture and flavor are more balanced this way. The pepper really comes through. But yeah… The color’s about right."
"…"
These guys ate this stuff every day?
He suddenly felt bad for these big-nosed bastards.
Before he knew it, Cowley had slurped down every last drop. Staring at the empty bowl in his hands, he finally came back to his senses and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Uh… sorry. I ate the...
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