Chapter 15: What to Eat

Peleti followed the flow of people forward, her eyes gliding over the dense rows of inn signs lining both sides of the street.

As expected, the area around the train station was filled with lodging of every kind. Though the inns seemed to be doing good business, with crowds constantly coming and going at their doors, she barely gave them a glance—showing no intention of stopping.

Stay here?

Absolutely not. The nonstop roar of trains through the night would be a third nightmare for someone like her—already a light sleeper, often jolted awake by nightmares. She could practically imagine herself staring at the ceiling until dawn.

Her fingers unconsciously slipped into her pocket, brushing against the cold edges of the coins inside.

Ten gold coins—compared to the generous pension she once kept hidden behind her mirror, the amount felt pitiful.

But then again, unlike many ordinary people who struggled even to afford their next meal, this money at least allowed her to have somewhere to stay for now.

“I should head toward the city center,” she thought, feeling every bone in her body protesting—especially her tortured waist and hips.

Enduring a night on the train’s hard seats had drained nearly all her strength.

Right now, all she wanted was a comfortable bed and a long, deep sleep.

Just as she was figuring out where she might stay, her attention was caught by a bakery not far away.

The storefront was small, but a long line stretched out to the sidewalk.

A place with this many customers probably wouldn’t taste bad, right?
That thought made her suddenly realize she hadn’t eaten for an entire day.

On the train, the travelers beside her had kindly tried offering her food since she never ate or drank a thing.

She hadn’t been hungry then, so she politely declined.

Thinking back now… witches also needed to eat, didn’t they?

She vaguely remembered reading somewhere that eating and doing-not-for-mention-here were the most basic instincts shared by all living things.

If so, a witch should be no exception.

Though she didn’t feel any hunger even now, she still pushed open the bakery’s glass door almost involuntarily.

A sweet, heavy fragrance enveloped her instantly.

“I’ll just buy some bread to fill my stomach…” she thought, but her gaze was irresistibly drawn to a small cream cake in the chilled display.

It was palm-sized, topped with white piped cream, bright red strawberries, and dark chocolate flakes—exquisitely delicate, like an art piece.

She had never seen this kind before…

For some reason, her eyes seemed glued to it, unable to look away.

“Miss, may I help you?”
A clerk in an apron approached with a smile and a pair of tongs in hand.

Peleti snapped out of her trance and lightly tapped the display glass.
“Please give me this cake. Just one.”

“Of course. I’ll wrap it right away.”
The clerk efficiently took out the cake and began packaging it with care.

While waiting, Peleti keenly noticed the woman’s gaze drifting toward her from time to time. That faint, assessing look made her a little uneasy.

“Um… excuse me,” she finally asked, uncertain, “is something on my face?”

“Oh! No, not at all.”
The clerk quickly shook her head, a trace of embarrassment flashing across her features before she explained,
“It’s just that you look unfamiliar. I was guessing you might have just arrived in Farisa today?”

“Yes,” Peleti replied simply.

A knowing look crossed the clerk’s eyes.
New in town — meaning this beautiful girl probably hadn’t found a job yet. Her tone instantly brightened.

“I see! Actually, we’ve been really busy lately and are short on staff. Would you… be interested in working here?”

“Huh?”
Peleti froze.
This sudden job offer completely derailed her thoughts.

She only came to buy a cake.

“Was I unclear?” The clerk hurried to clarify when she saw Peleti’s bewildered expression.
“Don’t worry, we offer very good pay.”

“That’s not it,” Peleti tried to explain, “I mean… I’ve never done baking, and I don’t have any experience serving customers. I might not be suitable.”

“That’s fine! Everyone starts somewhere.” The clerk waved her hand dismissively.
“And you don’t have to bake—you can help customers, or work the register. All things you can gradually learn.”

“Hiring standards these days… are this lenient?” Peleti murmured, stunned.
“You even take people with zero experience?”

“You misunderstand,” the clerk smiled,
“Our standards have never been low. It’s just that your appearance is… exceptionally eye-catching.”

“Say things like that and call it a high standard?”
Peleti silently complained.
“That is definitely just an excuse.”

“Think about it—good-looking people are like magnets. They naturally attract customers. And you’re exactly that type.”
The clerk handed her the beautifully wrapped cake, along with a stiff card.
“Of course, no pressure. This is my business card. If you change your mind, you’re welcome anytime.”

Peleti accepted the cake and the card. Her fingertips brushed over the embossed letters — Vinika.

Like her, a commoner without a surname.

She thanked the clerk softly, then stepped out of the busy, fragrant bakery, shutting its warmth and enthusiasm behind her.

“So shady…”

Turning the corner, she immediately tossed the business card into a nearby trash bin.

Maybe she was being overly sensitive, but something about that bakery felt off.

She couldn’t pinpoint what.
The customer flow was simply too high.
Back in Black City, she had never seen a bakery half that lively.

And what hurt the most—the cake, that tiny palm-sized cake, cost nearly as much as her train ticket here.

Ridiculous…

They might as well have just robbed her instead of presenting her with a cake like it was consolation.

Still, she couldn’t let the money she painfully handed over go to waste.
Peleti cautiously tasted a small piece.

“Mn… this is what rich people eat? Is this really meant for human consumption?!”

Her face scrunched in horror, and she spat the entire bite into the nearest trash can.

Honestly, in all her years of living, she had never eaten anything so terrible.
The texture was like unknown paste, with a bitter strange taste mixed in—nothing like what cake should be.

Staring at the remaining cake in her hand, Peleti felt a wave of nausea, like the kind one gets looking at a giant mound of cream after overeating.

Do people actually like this?

She shuddered inwardly.
Her gaze drifted across the crowd—where she spotted a girl happily eating the exact same cake, savoring every bite.

If others were enjoying it that much… was the problem her?

She went to a drink shop next and bought the most basic orange juice.

A weird cake could be chalked up to bad luck.
But she’d had orange juice countless times—there was no way that could go wrong.

Except…

It tasted like nothing.

Only when the sweet-sour juice carried absolutely no flavor did Peleti finally realize—
her sense of taste had malfunctioned.

After all that fuss, she suddenly felt a faint hollowness in her stomach. If she guessed correctly… she was hungry.

Except—

Could someone please tell her what a witch is supposed to eat?!