The leader’s eyes bulged with mock surprise. "Oh, the cat girl’s packing claws. Adorable." He snorted and spun to Liam. "And you, albino, can’t afford real gear, so you’re peddling... what exactly is this?"

"Spiced taro bread and wight-cured serpent jerky," Liam replied evenly, voice as flat as a graveyard slab. "One gold piece each."

A ripple of derisive laughter rolled through the OnlySlop members. "One gold? For root paste and serpent meat? You’ve lost your mind." Their camp rations had been nothing but bland mush and gristly jerky since they’d been trapped; the very idea of paying for "luxury" food struck them as lunacy.

The fox-eared leader asked for a free sample, and when a new faction strolled up, crest blazing: [Absolute Cinema.] Their leader, a tall woman crowned with curling antlers, paused at Liam’s ramshackle brazier and burst out laughing.

"Seriously? You guys are harassing the campfire cook? Pathetic." She eyed the steaming loaf and glistening strips of jerky. "What’s the pitch?"

Liam slid a crisp taro roll on the embers until its crust crackled. "Bread boosts morale, especially important after weeks of cardboard mush. Jerky grants 500% resistance to ice and water, plus a 200% swimming buff for six hours."

The antlered woman raised an eyebrow. "That’s... actually kind of clever." She dropped a gold piece onto the warped plank serving as his counter. "Give me one of each. If I don’t drown or freeze solid, I’ll spread the word."

She tore into the taro bread first. Her smirk vanished. "By the moons, this actually tastes... alive. I feel fearless." Next, the pale serpent jerky. Her eyes widened. "And I’m practically immune to ice magic. Plus, I feel I could swim through molten lava and laugh about it."

OnlySlop’s crew traded uneasy glances. "She’s just feeding you lines," the fox-eared leader muttered, but another member edged forward, curiosity overcoming contempt.

Elizabeth’s grip on her sword tightened. "Keep moving," she hissed at the mocking guild. Behind her, Liam unwrapped fresh jerky strips and taro rolls for the newcomer.

"No violence," the Absolute Cinema leader called over her shoulder, patting Elizabeth’s arm. "We’re just... admirers of quality cuisine." She bit another strip of jerky, brow lifting. "You know, that’s insane and absolutely delicious."

Word spread like wildfire. Players drifted in, desperate for something more than tasteless stale cakes and rock jerky. Elizabeth shifted from embarrassed bodyguard to bemused bouncer, guiding the growing line while Liam methodically grilled and packed.

Elizabeth watched Liam hand skewers to eager adventurers with unruffled calm. "How did you know this would work?" she whispered.

Liam’s red eyes glimmered with amusement. "Everyone’s been stuck with bland food so long they forgot what tasty feels like." He offered her a roll. "But they’re hungry for something... unusual."

OnlySlop’s bravado faltered. The fox-eared brawler watched as the Absolute Cinema leader paid full price, then, with a noise of disgust, fished a battered gold piece from his pouch. "Fine. Give me one of each, too. If I die, I’ll haunt you."

Liam obliged, serving the food with the same calm detachment as before. The brawler, expecting the worst, nibbled the taro roll and grimaced; then, to his own amazement, he nodded. "Not garbage," he admitted. "I prefer mine with salt." The second bite disappeared almost instantly.

Elizabeth’s role as bodyguard instantly shifted. She found herself guiding the line, fielding questions, and scowling at queue-jumpers. The surging crowd pressed inward, but nobody dared mess with the food. A few rival guilds attempted to muscle their way forward; Elizabeth’s glare and sword hilt made quick work of them.

The OnlySlop leader, face reddening, watched as his own lieutenants defected to sample the wares. He grumbled, but when faced with thirty-odd adventurers united by hunger, he knew better than to start a fight. Instead, he circled the perimeter, whispering to subordinates and casting Liam venomous looks.

Absolute Cinema’s antlered woman made good on her word. She wolfed down the rest of her jerky, then addressed the entire plaza: "This guy’s got the real deal. Boosts like nothing I’ve seen. You want to solo the Slime Caverns? Eat here first.

The queue doubled, then trebled. Elizabeth lost count of the guild colours at the front. Someone tried to bribe her for a spot near the fire; she just bared her fangs and told them to wait.

Liam’s hands moved with mechanical precision, grilling, slicing, and serving. He never raised his voice, never acknowledged the mounting chaos. The more crowded it got, the calmer he seemed, like the epicentre of a storm.

The crowd parted suddenly as a tall figure in crimson robes pushed through, his ruby-red eyes glowing with contempt. A silver insignia gleamed on his chest—the emblem of the Ruby Eye Guild, one of the most elite factions in the game.

"Stand aside," he commanded, voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. "I won’t have my guild members wasting gold on this... weirdo’s lies."

Elizabeth’s ears flattened against her head.

"Sir, the food actually provides buffs," she started, but the man cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"Buff food from a street vendor? Please." He surveyed Liam’s makeshift stand with naked disgust. "This is clearly some scam to exploit desperate players. Those ’buffs’ are probably just placebo effects."

Liam’s ears twitched as he flipped the meat over the grill, heat curling up in smoky ribbons. "Test the effects yourself," he said, voice flat.

A laugh barked out from the Ruby Eye member, sharp as broken glass. "No thanks. My guild’s top-tier. Don’t need your... gimmicks."

"Your choice." Liam shrugged, eyes on his cooking. "Thought Barbossa wet himself on the last raid? Lost most of your guild?"

The Ruby Eye member bristled, anger flickering across his face. "I’m doing everyone a favour by exposing this scam. Smart ones should get their refunds.

Elizabeth’s tail flicked with irritation, cutting through the tense air. "If you’re not buying, keep moving. You’re blocking the line." Her voice was a growl, the threat evident beneath the surface.

The crowd around them murmured, a ripple of unease spreading. Liam sent a glance to Elizabeth.

[TOOL TIP: THE "RUBY EYE" REASONING]

Status: High-Tier Arrogance Detected (Imminent Reality Check).

The "Barbossa" Burn: Liam just hit the Ruby Eye member with a [Psychic Critical Hit]. Referencing a top-tier guild Leader "wetting himself" during a raid is a permanent -50 Charisma modifier to the entire faction.