After that, some time passed, but Zhang Da Ye's life didn't change much.
Every day involved training, lottery draws, and running the tavern. He acquired plenty of tables and chairs from Tom's home, and pots and pans from Artoria's family.
By now, he could swing a sword with some skill, learning through practical experience and improving noticeably.
Since the tavern raised its prices, customer numbers hadn't dropped much. The eight tables were still often fully occupied.
Although alcohol sales slightly declined, profits actually increased.
Occasionally, some people still came asking about Tom's price, but Zhang Da Ye rejected them all.
Some, like Biznes, politely gave up without further discussion.
Others smashed a cup in anger, only to be beaten by Zhang Da Ye before they could act further.
Yes, Zhang Da Ye acted personally. After enduring so many hits over the days, handling a few troublemakers was nothing.
During sparring sessions with Artoria, he noticed his adaptability improved significantly, able to calmly analyze attacks and figure out counters.
Especially with a little "help" from tools, his fighting style became quite unconventional.
For example, if an enemy threw a punch, Zhang Da Ye could quickly grab a frying pan from his inventory to block it, then use the same pan to strike back while the opponent's hand was in pain.
Another example:
"Hey, kid, I don't care about a few lousy drinks. I've eaten in illegal-zone restaurants without asking the price!" a fat man growled, attempting to slap Zhang Da Ye.
A folding stool answered him instead, smashing hard against his face. He screamed and collapsed to the floor.
Cursing, the man tried to rise, but Zhang Da Ye vaulted from behind the bar, stepped on his stomach, and swung the stool repeatedly: "Lousy wine, huh?" "Refusing to pay, huh?" "Want to hit me, huh?"
He continued pounding until the man dared not resist, then stopped.
People in this world were really tough—after such a beating, the man had only bruises, a swollen head, two streams of blood from his nose, and no teeth lost.
And Tom's folding stools were incredibly sturdy and easy to wield.
Zhang Da Ye didn't worry about scaring other patrons. They enjoyed watching the spectacle. Despite cheerful smiles while drinking, these bystanders were often tougher than Zhang Da Ye, some having faced real pirates. Handling a small scuffle like this suited their drinking mood perfectly.
"Got money or not?" Zhang Da Ye felt like a villain demanding payment while standing on the man.
"I-I have!" The fat man, considering himself reasonable, frantically fumbled for his wallet.
"Why do you people always think you can get free stuff even when you have money?" Zhang Da Ye pointed to the bills. Anyone causing trouble got a triple fee as a fine, a small side profit.
After securing the money, Zhang Da Ye prepared to put the stool away—it was too useful to discard.
However, hearing Zhang Da Ye's question, the fat man misinterpreted the motion, thinking another beating was coming, and quickly covered his head: "I-I said it! I said it!"
Zhang Da Ye paused. An unexpected bonus?
He put the stool down, helped the man straighten his collar, lightly brushed off the dirt, and smiled kindly: "Come on, take your time. No rush. Want something to drink?"
"No, no!" The fat man shivered. That smile was even scarier than the beating.
"I was just paid to come here and cause trouble," the man admitted, glancing at the stool and explaining everything.
"I was picking watermelons at the fruit stand when someone told me to follow him for a business discussion. He was tall, wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a mask, hiding his face completely. I could tell he wasn't a good person, but I followed him…"
"Wait, wait… if you could tell he wasn't good, why did you follow him?" Zhang Da Ye was momentarily confused by the sequence of events.
The man blushed slightly: "Well, I'm not exactly a good person either…"
Fair enough—following a shady figure turned out beneficial. "Go on."
"He gave me money to come here and make trouble, claiming this tavern stole his business. He wanted me to make as much chaos as possible."
Such rivalry among taverns? Zhang Da Ye continued: "Aren't you afraid of running into someone fierce?"
The man laughed nervously: "I checked. You've been here a short time, only know a few workers, no real power. And… he paid too much…"
"Oh~ paid too much, huh~" Zhang Da Ye smiled warmly. "Do you know who he is?"
"Can't tell, probably big taverns or restaurants on nearby islands. A small place wouldn't pay so much for one small-time thug."
"Very well, I forgive you." Seeing relief on the man's face, Zhang Da Ye called: "Tom, time to work!"
Tom dashed over, donned a pair of sunglasses, saluted Zhang Da Ye, and dragged the fat man to the door. Under the patrons' eager gaze, he kicked him outside.
The tavern doors swung, the man's screams rang outside, and clinking glasses sounded inside.
Tom wiped his hands and handed the stack of bills he'd retrieved to Zhang Da Ye.
"Wow, really willing to invest," Zhang Da Ye said happily, patting Tom's head. "Since we made a side profit, let's give everyone a 9.9999 discount today!"
The patrons cheered Zhang Da Ye's generosity.
Ignoring the drunkards, Zhang Da Ye returned behind the bar: "I thought someone was plotting against Tom. Turns out it's just rival taverns competing maliciously. But our tavern is small—we shouldn't have to worry too much, right?"
Artoria asked, "If it's rival competition, will incidents like this happen often?"
Zhang Da Ye thought: "Hmm… even without rivals, troublemakers will appear. No need to be afraid, just annoying."
He patted the stack of cash in his pocket. Maybe… not so annoying?
"Anyway, let's treat ourselves tonight!"
Not just for a treat—if five or six more of these people came, he could finally repay Old Bob.
Keep it up, fellow tavern owners!
Stop eating a few bad watermelons… are these melons even ripe?