Bab 117: The rumor of an elf

"Haa... what a poor customer service."

Cranberry sighed sitting by the empty table that Zombie just finished cleaning from all the blood from last night.

"Graough...! (Master, don't be mean, I'm doing my best...!)"

Zombie growled at her sulkily from the kitchen.

The red-haired girl flinched and covered her eyes.

"I didn't mean you, Zombie, the owner of this place should be ashamed. No professionalism."

She shrugged, kicking a lost finger from underneath her seat.

"Graough? (The guy who got his face punched in?)"

Zombie growled in confusion.

"...really, not even a pity laugh...? haa..."

Cranberry mumbled under her breath and sighed.

"Graough! (Master, it's ready!) Graough! (Hope you'll like it!)."

The blue undead walked out of the inn's kitchen carrying a full course breakfast prepared especially for his beloved master.

He laid it all out in front of her and then sat on the opposite side of the table.