Taming Beasts in a Ruined World

Creak—

The great gates of The Wall swung open.

Alec stood at the threshold, his expression calm but alert as several figures approached.

"Welcome to Black Tortoise," he said formally.

"Are we allowed to enter?" Liergu asked, raising the Customs Clearance Document in his hand, uncertain whether another inspection was required.

"Please, come in," Alec replied, motioning them forward.

After passing through two previous checkpoints, The Wall required no further inspection—its guards merely kept order and maintained security.

"It seems there's no more checking to do," Liergu remarked as he led his team through the gate.

They stepped onto a clean, stone-paved street. The place was quiet—almost eerily so—but every building along the road was built with care, its structure elegant and modern.

Exquisite shopfronts lined both sides, their colorful signs swaying gently in the wind. Though the street appeared deserted, the faint aroma of cooking filled the air.

Liergu slowed, sniffing. "It smells… incredible."

The scent was thick and complex—a medley of spices, roasted meat, and something else entirely unfamiliar.

"I can recognize the smell of meat," one of the assassins muttered, "but the rest—what is that?"

Nijisha tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "There are fragrances here I've never even heard of," she whispered.

"Captain, look over there." One of the men pointed. "That shop—there's a plant by the door."

They all turned. At the entrance of a nearby store, a green vine had grown up along a wooden pole, small leaves fluttering in the breeze. The scent of fresh herbs drifted from within.

"Is this street some sort of trading area?" Liergu asked aloud, puzzled. The place was too peaceful, too clean—nothing like the chaotic marketplaces of Amestris.

Just then, a familiar voice floated toward them.

"Everyone—welcome to the Commercial Street of Black Tortoise."

Mirean Moon emerged gracefully from the doorway of a tall, four-story building.

"Commercial Street?" Liergu repeated, the term unfamiliar.

Mirean's expression softened with pride. "It's where Black Tortoise City conducts trade with the outside world," she explained. "You can barter here for all manner of specialty goods and foods unique to this city."

Liergu's curiosity stirred. "Trade? What do you use as currency?"

"Beast spars," Mirean replied simply.

He blinked. "You only accept spars?"

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "Not exclusively. Barter is welcome as well. Some rare beasts—or their materials—fetch a high price here."

"Then… can I try one of these shops now?" Liergu asked, unable to hide the hint of eagerness in his tone. The aromas surrounding him were far too enticing to ignore.

"Please wait a moment," Mirean said, gesturing toward the grand building behind her. "Our City Lord has invited you to join him first."

Liergu hesitated, then nodded. "That's fine. I've been meaning to meet your City Lord anyway."

He looked up at the ornate sign above the entrance. Three carved characters gleamed faintly under the light: Food Building.

Liergu chuckled. "Straightforward name. I like it."

"Please, follow me," Mirean said, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

---

She led them inside the Food Building. The interior was bright, polished, and welcoming, filled with the faint warmth of simmering broth and roasted herbs. Elegant lanterns hung from the ceiling, their soft glow illuminating a grand spiral staircase.

They ascended to the fourth floor—a spacious private room decorated with carved wooden panels and glass windows overlooking the street below.

The Food Building wasn't just a restaurant. It was one of the most important establishments in Black Tortoise City, where visiting merchants and foreign envoys spent their beast spars freely.

When Liergu entered, his steps slowed.

A young man sat at the main seat of the table, calm and composed, his posture natural yet commanding.

For a moment, Liergu's breath caught. The pressure radiating from this man was… immense.

He had felt something like it only once before—when standing before the Lord of Amestris City.

Instantly, his casual manner vanished, replaced by a soldier's solemn respect.

So this is him, he thought. The City Lord of Black Tortoise.

No doubt remained in his mind—this was a monster of rank eight strength.

"Sit," Luciel said mildly, gesturing to the seats opposite.

"Yes, my lord," Liergu replied quickly, lowering himself into a chair. His tone had shifted completely, the easy swagger gone.

Nijisha and the others exchanged wary glances. Even without understanding the power they were sensing, they could see their captain's sudden change in attitude.

Luciel smiled faintly. "Qin Lan—bring the food. We'll talk over dinner."

"As you wish." Mirean inclined her head gracefully and signaled the waiters.

Moments later, two women in long skirts entered the room—one carrying a silver tray, the other setting dishes carefully on the table.

A light, refreshing aroma began to fill the air.

Fried sweet potato leaves. Stir-fried cabbage. Tomato clear soup. Fried sweet potato fries.

Four dishes in total—simple, bright, and unmistakably vegetarian.

Liergu blinked, momentarily at a loss. The plates glowed with rich color—the green of the leaves, the golden edges of the fries, the gentle steam rising from the soup.

"These are the signature dishes of our restaurant," Luciel said lightly, picking up his utensils. "Please, help yourself."

In a world where food was scarce and the wasteland had long since consumed nature's abundance, even seeing green vegetables felt like a dream.

"Thank you," Liergu said carefully, reaching for a fork. He tried a bite of cabbage—and froze.

The taste was crisp and sweet, the texture tender yet fresh, with a subtle aroma that lingered pleasantly on the tongue.

He had eaten well before—banquets with Amestris's ruling council, feasts shared among the city's elite—but never anything that felt alive.

"This…" he murmured, eyes widening slightly.

Luciel took a sip of soup, smiling faintly. "How is it?"

Liergu swallowed, his composure breaking into honest wonder. "Delicious. Truly worthy of a gourmet restaurant."

"This tomato soup," Luciel said, lifting his bowl with easy grace, "is also quite good."

Following his lead, Liergu poured himself a bowl and took a cautious sip.

The warm liquid slid down his throat—tangy, light, and soothing. He exhaled slowly, a soft sound escaping his lips as the tension drained from his body.

His soldiers could only watch. Nijisha's eyes darted between the dishes, her stomach twisting with longing as the last of the vegetables disappeared between their leaders' plates.

Neither Luciel nor Liergu spoke of politics as they ate. The only sounds were the faint clatter of dishes and the quiet hum of the city outside.

By the time the final spoonful of soup was gone, Liergu leaned back in his chair, blinking as if waking from a trance.

It had been a long time since a meal had made him forget himself.

Luciel set down his chopsticks, his expression calm and faintly amused. "So—how was the food?"

"Exquisite," Liergu said honestly. "I've never had anything like it." He chuckled. "Now I understand why your restaurant carries such a name."

Luciel's smile deepened. "Then you're welcome to visit as often as you like."

"Wait—you mean… we can?"

"Of course," Luciel replied. "Black Tortoise City will be staying near Amestris for a while. You're free to come and dine whenever you wish."

Liergu's eyes brightened with genuine delight. "That's… great news."

But even as he smiled, a flicker of unease rippled beneath his composure. To grow vegetables—fresh ones, in this world—and serve them freely… it spoke of wealth and power beyond anything Amestris possessed.

Black Tortoise wasn't just a city. It was a civilization on the move—self-sufficient, rich, and utterly beyond comprehension.

"We hold no malice toward Amestris," Mirean Moon added smoothly. "We're merely staying for a short time… to take care of a few matters."

"I understand," Liergu replied quickly, nodding. He didn't truly understand—but he wasn't about to admit that.

Facing a man who radiated rank-eight strength, he knew better than to test his luck.

Luciel rose slowly from his seat, his expression as calm as ever. "Then, please—enjoy yourselves. Explore the Commercial Street. Buy whatever catches your eye."

He had already achieved what he wanted: the first wave of Amestris visitors had entered Black Tortoise City safely. Soon, word would spread.

"Thank you, City Lord," Liergu said, standing respectfully.

He gave a brief bow before turning toward the door.

Outside, the scents of the Commercial Street waited once more—vivid, strange, and impossibly alive.

Liergu glanced back one last time at the quiet man who had shared a meal with him.

A monster of rank eight strength, he thought, his pulse steady but his heart uneasy. And a city more mysterious than any I've ever seen.

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