"Hey, who do you think you are?"
Hearing a sluggish voice of an obviously drunk middle-aged man being directed at him, Zaroth shifted his gaze to the source of the nuisance.
When he walked into the tavern, he decided to ignore the brawl of the drunk people and went past them, but it seems that for some reason one of the two wanted to act like a big shot.
'I am so tired, do I have to bother with this now?' Zaroth thought. For a portion of a second, he wondered if he should avoid trouble and search for another, less busy tavern, but now that he had sat on one of the stools at the bar, he realized that he didn't want to get up on an empty stomach.
'Should I kill him?' The thought crossed his mind without warning. He usually didn't have these kinds of thoughts, but considering the events of the past few days and coupling with the fact that he was tired and hungry, he was running low on patience.
