As Bedivere put the final patch on the cracked roof, his stomach began to protest loudly.
Yes, it's lunch time.
I hope the lunch provided by the old man is really delicious and not some kind of dark cuisine.
When the werewolf walked into the kitchen to take a look, he was completely crushed.
This damn thing is exactly the same as the kitchen in Captain Senezel's cargo ship! They are both dirty and old, and just looking at them makes you sick to your stomach!
The dark cuisine produced in the cargo ship's kitchen was inedible, and the one here certainly wasn't much better!
These guys, would you die if you cleaned up the kitchen a little bit?!
"Oh, Bedi." Albert walked out holding a bowl of soup, "You came just on time, it's time to eat."
"Don't you smell the rotten smell in this soup?" Bedivere frowned fiercely, almost squeezing his brows.
"It's not that exaggerated." Al's nose seemed to be broken. "There is a kind of salted fish among them. It just smells like salted fish. This is true for all pickled foods. Don't pay too much attention to it."
(How hungry must you be to drink this bowl of dark food?)
The werewolf sat down at the dining table, but he was on pins and needles, never having a moment of peace. In front of him were a bowl of thick soup, a loaf of bread as black and hard as a stone, and a few slices of smoked meat.
Even the seemingly normal smoked meat was scorched black, and there was a faint smell of strangeness in the meat.
Oh my god, can I eat this lunch without having a stomachache?
"Eat it, eat it while it's hot, it won't taste good when it's cold." Old man Senezel drank his bowl of thick soup as if nothing had happened. Are people who are used to dark cuisine immune to diarrhea?
The werewolf forced out a fake smile. Seeing Al and Elaine eating happily beside him, he couldn't help but sympathize with these two idiots.
But, shall we eat? Should we not eat? Can Bedivere refuse to eat? He is making a request to Landlord Senezel, and if he refuses this lunch now, he may make him angry.
"Bedi, if you don't eat, I will eat your bacon." Albert stared at the werewolf's plate with a shameless expression.
Bediwell rolled his eyes at the tiger. Everything I did was not for you, this damn tiger.
The werewolf was riding a tiger and couldn't get off. He had no choice but to pick up the bowl of thick soup, try his best to hold back his breath, and pour the soup into his stomach.
Sure enough, there is smelly salted fish. It smells so bad. It’s a shame that tigers and white bears can drink such smelly stuff.
But......?
There was a certain umami taste that exploded in Bediville's throat.
It was as if the delicacy of thousands of fishes had been concentrated. Although the taste was rancid, it was incredibly fresh!
"This...what on earth is this?!" the werewolf couldn't help but exclaimed.
"Oh, this is our traditional fish soup in Edinburgh. It is made from special salted fish." The old man sneered and said, "How about it? I didn't expect something so smelly to be so delicious."
?"
Indeed. Bedivere was surprised. People can't be judged by their appearance, and can't soup be smelled?
The werewolf finished the bowl of smelly and delicious soup in a few mouthfuls, then grabbed the piece of black bread and ate it.
Crunchy! Originally expecting it to be as hard as a rock, Bediwell didn't have high expectations for this bread. But this dark dish made him instantly stunned.
This is not just bread. This black color and fragrance, should it be black beans? The part on the bread that the werewolf thought was moldy is actually a fine frost of rock salt.
Who ground the black beans and mixed them with flour to make this bread? Who ground the rock salt into such a fine powder that it was lightly spread on the bread?
It’s unbelievable that such rough food is cooked so delicately!
The werewolf immediately dealt with the black bean bread and then dealt with the slices of bacon. He didn't believe in evil. These slices of bacon that were obviously burnt could not be delicious!
He was defeated by this dark dish again. It was not burnt black at all, but agglomerates of finely ground black pepper.
The bacon is refined just before it rots, retaining its freshest flavor without making it inedible.
Pepper removes the fishy smell from the meat, improves the meat preparation, and restores the most authentic taste of the meat. It allows the smoked meat, which was originally dehydrated and dried for long-term preservation, to become the fresh meat that has been fried.
Such elasticity!
What a masterpiece!
It is simply a masterpiece that turns decay into something magical!!
Who cooked today’s lunch?
---Bedivere quickly turned around and looked at old man Senezel.
No. Absolutely not.
This old man does not look like a chef. There is no smell of cooking fumes on his body.
So, who on earth turned such decadent ingredients into something so magical?!
"Oh, have you finished eating?" A woman walked out of the kitchen carrying the last plate of snacks.
Orin.
Under the dim light last night, Bedivere already felt that Olin was very beautiful.
At noon, there is plenty of light in the dining room, and the Druid coordinator looks even more charming!
She didn't pay attention to the werewolf's close gaze, put the plate of snacks in her hand on the table, and ordered in a queen-like arrogant tone: "Dessert after dinner. Eat."
"Oh, Miss Olin, you are so kind." When the big cat saw a woman, it was like a dog seeing a bone, and its mouth watered.
No wonder Albert eats with great enthusiasm. It turns out that the cook is a beauty, and everything she cooks is "beautiful and delicious."
The werewolf reached out and grabbed a "dessert" and looked at it carefully.
That thing is a little rabbit made of flour. It turns translucent white after being steamed, and you can see the jam filling hidden inside.
Bediwell almost burst into tears: It’s just a dessert, does it need to be so delicate? It’s made into the shape of such a cute rabbit, how can anyone bear to eat it!?
"How long did it take you to do this?" Bediwell tried his best to suppress his surprise and emotion, pretending to be nonchalant and asked Olin: "If you spent all your time cultivating your own skills, you could have been much stronger.
Times."
"Damn it! You ignorant stupid dog!" Olin yelled: "I took care of you last night, and now I will make something delicious to give you as a gift. You don't want to eat it. Why are you sarcastic there?!"
(Oh, it turned out to be a return gift.)
"Oh, you also know what etiquette is?" The werewolf thought one thing in his heart, but he said another thing.
As soon as these words came out, Ou Lin was completely angered: "Boy, let's go out and fight. I promise not to beat you to death."
What a ladies man.
Bediwell ate the Crystal Bunny in one bite, put the wonderful food in his mouth and chewed it, feeling the fruity aroma that slowly spread.
Then, he said calmly: "Well, it's very good. I'll accept this gift. Let's not quarrel. If you have serious business, come to me to discuss it, right?"
Olin saw that Bedivere had no intention of continuing the argument. She was angry and stupid by herself, so she had no choice but to suppress her anger, pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table: "I'm not the one to discuss anything with you.
It’s grandpa. Grandpa?---"
"Puffhhhhhhhhh..." Landlady Senezel kept snickering on the sidelines. After being called out, he barely stopped laughing: "Okay, let's...puffhhhhhhhh..."
...Let’s talk business.”
The werewolf kept cursing in his heart, wishing that old man Senezel would die from laughing too much and bursting his blood vessels.
The old man glanced around and made sure that no outsiders were eavesdropping within a ten-mile radius, and then he said with confidence: "This task is not assigned by the Brotherhood, but from... an organization within Great Britain."
Therefore, the Druid religion and the government of Great Britain do have contacts, the werewolf thought to himself.
"However, the nature of this task is quite special, and we, the Druids, cannot intervene. That's why we need the help of you people who have nothing to do with the sect."
(Kill someone with a borrowed knife!)
The old man Senezel glanced at the werewolves, tigers, and white bears present: "Especially the aliens. You are the best suited to do this, and it won't arouse anyone's suspicion."
(Because we are not human beings, can we be used by you to do your dirty deeds?)
"Stop being so pretentious and tell me the mission content!" Bedivere couldn't wait any longer.
This is obviously a very bad task. The old man did it in such a sneaky way, and he also planned to use the help of Bediwell and others to complete this task. I'm afraid there is something fishy in it, a huge fishy thing.
Listen first and then talk. If the task is really not good, reject it immediately! The werewolf has already made up his mind.
"Hey, why are you so nervous?" The old man smiled ferociously, with all kinds of ill intentions in his brows and eyes: "I just want you to destroy an underground church with a cult."
Religious conflict! We knew it would be like this! Bedivere bounced off the chair. Even a person with a spring on his butt couldn't bounce as high as he did!
"No! Thank you, but no!" Bedivere was afraid that he could not refuse quickly enough, so he shouted before he landed: "We don't want to get involved in this kind of religious dispute!!
Thank you very much, but this task---I---we---can't---take it---!!"
"Oh?" The old man narrowed his eyes and looked at the werewolf slyly, and his words were full of sarcasm: "Are you sure? This is really not a religious conflict.
That cult is notoriously evil and has long been notorious in Great Britain. Even if you don't do it, someone will always come forward and uproot this cult. --- Moreover, all this has nothing to do with us druids.
Teaching has absolutely nothing to do with it."
"However, this is your mission." The werewolf would not believe the old man's story. He knew very well that old Senezel was cunning and clever. He could only believe half of what the old man said. If he believed too much, he would suffer.
"I only heard about this from a certain relevant department of the government--please call me an intelligence officer." Old man Senezel sneered: "And I'm afraid you have also heard of the name of the cult."
The old man slowly spit out a string of familiar syllables: