Chapter 239

"Damn brat, messing around like that!"

The drunk who had been harassing Clael and the others plopped down in his seat and let out an alcohol-reeking belch.

It was a four-person seat... but the only one sitting there was the drunk.

The passengers who had originally been there got fed up with the noisy drunk and moved to other seats.

"Every damn one of you mocking me—what the hell did I ever do to deserve this?!"

The drunk shouted alone, while the passengers in the surrounding seats looked fed up and kept their distance.

That drunk had worked for a certain merchant company in the royal capital, but had just been fired.

He had made advances on young female clerks, embezzled sales, skipped work to drink... and once his misdeeds were exposed, he was dismissed.

At the same time he lost his job, his wife disappeared with their child, and the house he had left behind was seized by creditors... the drunk could no longer stay in the royal capital, so he boarded a train to retreat to the countryside.

"Losing my job and wife at this age—what the hell am I supposed to do?! Damn it all, you bastards looking down on me!"

Muttering complaints and resentment, the drunk reached for his booze.

But then he remembered that he had thrown his empty bottle at Clael and twisted his face in frustration.

"Damn it!"

Should I go buy more booze?

No, I have no money.

Maybe I should just take it by force.

He hated everyone. The company that fired him, the wife who ran away, those girls earlier, the man who stepped in... he wanted to destroy everything.

Having lost everything, the man became desperate and was about to commit a crime.

"Huh...?"

But... someone sat in the seat directly across from him.

"Hey, who said you could sit th—hii!?"

"Kumaaa"

Sitting there was a Bear.

Muscular and bulky. A plushie of a Bear with bulging muscles sat wearing a black coat.

"You... what the...?"

"Wan wan"

"Nyaa"

"Shoebill!"

Then, diagonally in front, beside him, and in the aisle, appeared burly men with plushie heads.

A Dog, a Cat, and an oddly gloomy bird with a sharp gaze surrounded the drunk.

"Kumaaa"

"W-What the hell... what is going on...?!"

The drunk, shaken by the impossible situation, looked around, but there was no one nearby he could ask for help.

Fed up with the drunk's ruckus, everyone had moved to distant seats.

"A-Are you perverts?! What are you planning to do to me?!"

"Kumaaa"

"Huh...?"

The Bear shoved something at the drunk. It was a glass made of glass.

As the drunk instinctively took it... the Dog poured alcohol into the glass.

"Wan"

"H-Huh...? You want me to drink this?"

"Nyaa"

"Hii!"

As if saying 'Drink it already', the Cat grabbed the drunk's head.

His thinning hair of the past few years was nearly yanked out, and the drunk hurriedly gulped down the contents of the glass.

"I-I drank it..."

"Wan"

"A-Again...?"

When the glass was empty, the Dog poured more alcohol.

Looking up at the plushie head with frightened eyes... the unreadable eyes glared back intimidatingly.

(W-Why am I being served drinks by these weirdos...?)

The drunk was overwhelmed with confusion and fear.

Suddenly, the earlier events flashed through his mind.

Earlier, the drunk had demanded that an unfamiliar female student pour him a drink.

There had been an unusually beautiful girl, and he couldn't resist approaching her... could that be related to this?

"Wan"

"N-No... I'm fine now. I can't drink anymore...!"

"Wan...?"

In this bizarre situation, the drunk couldn't even taste the booze and desperately tried to refuse.

But the Dog intimidated him, as if to say, "You won't drink my booze?"

The drunk, who had been harassing a young woman under the influence, was now the victim of alcohol harassment by plushies for some reason.

"T-Toilet! I need the toilet!"

The drunk frantically waved both hands.

"Please let me go to the toilet!"

"Shoebill!"

"Hii!"

The sharp-eyed bird standing in the aisle let out a threatening cry... but then stepped aside to clear the way.

"E-Excuse me...!"

Though he had drunk plenty, the drunk now felt sober as he stepped into the aisle.

He then stumbled and ran out of the car.

"W-What the hell... why is this happening to me...?"

All he did was approach a young woman because she was making a fuss—so why had things turned out so bizarrely?

Overwhelmed by confusion, the drunk tried to flee into the next train car.

"Wait."

"Huh...?"

But... once again, the drunk was surrounded.

This time, not by plushies, but by a group clad in white robes.

"We are the Saint's royal guard."

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about that recent commotion."

"And about your attempt to touch the Saint's body—we'll be conducting torture... I mean, interrogation."

"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

Radiating intense bloodlust, the men and women in white robes seized the drunk and dragged him away with hatred in their eyes.

In the end, the drunk was forced to get off at the next station.

From that day on, the drunk completely gave up drinking and started working earnestly at a new job.

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