The Reincarnated Lizardman Wants a Hamburger

“…Lizardman? Why is a Lizardman in my safe house?”

Berman tensed up, suspecting for a moment that the Lizardman might be a hitman who had arrived at the safe house first to eliminate him.

But then again, if you think about it, there’s no hitman who would greet their target with a ladle in hand.

Moreover, if there were rumors about a Lizardman hitman, he would have heard about it. Lizardmen are quite rare, so if there were a criminal of such a unique race, even he, the godfather of the Capenna Family, would have received information about it.

But even so, it didn’t make sense that someone else had taken up residence in his safe house on the very day he was betrayed by Rufus.

The reason a safe house is called a safe house isn’t because the building is exceptionally effective at defending against external threats or detecting intrusions. After all, even Berman himself was attacked by Rufus’s men while inside the safe house.

The reason a safe house is called a safe house is because the building itself is a hidden refuge that doesn’t attract attention. It could be a house disguised as an ordinary residence in a densely populated area, a mansion with no visible entrance unless you know the secret passage, or a hut hidden in a remote location where no one would think to look.

The most important aspect of a safe house is not being discovered in the first place. Once discovered, its value plummets.

This hut was one of those secret safe houses that ordinary people couldn’t find.

It was simply a matter of artificially manipulating the natural terrain to subtly disorient people’s sense of direction, causing sensory confusion. Unless viewed from a specific angle, the hut was completely hidden by the bushes and trees.

Even a hunter who roamed the forest like it was their backyard wouldn’t be able to find a trace of this hut unless they were exceptionally skilled.

And yet, this Lizardman, dressed like an ordinary adventurer, had found it? A safe house that even skilled hunters would pass by without noticing? And on the very day he was betrayed by Rufus?

If the Lizardman before him was a hitman prepared by Rufus, that would be dangerous. But if he was just a civilian who happened to stumble upon the hut and was staying for the night, he could get caught up in the family’s conflict, which would also be dangerous.

“It’s better if you come inside. The rain is heavy, so it’s best to warm yourself up.”

“Don’t worry. If you’re just an innocent traveler, forget that you met me. Getting involved with me would only put you in danger.”

So Berman remained wary of the Lizardman, prepared for any potential ambush.

“Come inside. I’ll make you some warm soup to help you warm up.”

“S-soup, you say…?”

Despite Berman’s gruff demeanor, the Lizardman didn’t seem to mind and grabbed him.

Perhaps it was because he had just been imagining a warm house from his childhood, where he would eat soup with his family? For a moment, Berman was drawn to the word “soup,” and in that moment, he was led inside the hut by the Lizardman.

“Even though spring is near, it’s still quite cold outside. Standing in the rain is reckless. Come here and warm yourself by the fire.”

“Ah, well, I suppose…”

The Lizardman, who had brought Berman inside, naturally led him to the fireplace as if he were the owner of the house. Berman, despite being the actual owner, followed his lead.

Sitting silently, Berman stared blankly at the burning fireplace.

At this point, Berman decided to let go of his suspicions toward the Lizardman.

When Berman had been shaken by the mention of soup, he had exposed several openings that a regular hitman would have exploited.

But instead of attacking him, the Lizardman had brought him inside the hut and even handed him a dry towel.

Sitting by the fireplace, wiping off the moisture with the towel, Berman felt the tension leave his body, and fatigue quickly set in.

Staring blankly at the burning logs in the fireplace, the fatigue he had been pushing back now overwhelmed him.

A part of him knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, but Berman couldn’t resist the exhaustion.

He was just too tired.

Escaping from the safe house had been physically painful and exhausting, but the betrayal by his most trusted friend weighed even heavier on his mind.

Berman just wanted to rest.

“I must really be getting old…”

At that moment, the Lizardman who had brought him inside handed him something.

“Here. Take it.”

“…What is this?”

“It’s the warm soup I mentioned earlier.”

Berman, who had been staring blankly at the bowl of soup handed to him by the Lizardman, silently accepted it and began to eat.

Clatter

The contents of the soup were ordinary.

It was a simple soup made with vegetables and herbs from the nearby forest, along with finely shredded meat from a one-horned rabbit, a common game animal.

All the ingredients were easily obtainable from the surrounding area, making it a soup that travelers passing through would find satisfying, and one that ordinary families in Omerta would commonly eat.

While it had more solid ingredients than what you’d find in a typical household soup, aside from the quantity of those ingredients, it was a fairly ordinary Omerta-style soup.

The Lizardman apologized for the unimpressive cooking, but Berman actually found the humble soup quite appealing.

Berman, feeling a sense of nostalgia from his childhood, slowly took a spoonful and tasted it.

Slurp

The moment he sipped the soup, he was hit with the strong, unique aroma of Omerta green onions, which only grew in the vicinity.

Next came the flavor of the rabbit meat. Rabbit meat is lean, so the broth didn’t have a strong meaty flavor or greasiness, but that allowed the taste of the lean meat to shine through.

Then came the soft, fluffy texture of the potatoes and the tender, well-cooked rabbit meat.

The potatoes, having been heated for a sufficient amount of time, mashed easily under the pressure of the spoon, while the rabbit meat, for some reason, remained soft and moist without becoming dry.

“It’s warm. Simple and humble. But it feels more satisfying and delicious than any delicacy I’ve ever eaten. Is it because I’ve been bleeding and my body has gone cold? Or is it because I was just reminiscing about my childhood?”

Of course, it was neither.

The secret to the flavor was the generous amount of spices and sweeteners that Kurt had poured in without hesitation.

In this world, you can make low-quality dishes with the finest ingredients, but you can’t make high-quality dishes with low-quality ingredients.

Thus, the secret to the soup’s flavor was Kurt’s bold decision-making and overindulgence.

But Berman, unaware of this, thought the taste was delicious because it reminded him of the fantasy flavor he had dreamed of as a child.

As a child, abandoned by his gambling-addicted parents and wandering the streets, what he had longed for most wasn’t the greasy chunks of meat that the wealthy ate or the desserts enjoyed by nobles, but a simple bowl of warm soup that ordinary families ate.

A small house with the lights on before returning home. A warm fireplace and the unique aroma of Omerta-style soup. After the meal, enjoying freshly made sweet apple pie while laughing and sharing stories of the day with family.

For some, this would be an ordinary daily routine, but for Berman, an orphan abandoned by his parents, it was a day he could never have.

Berman had desperately wanted a family.

The thoughts that had driven him to cry out in despair before reaching the safe house continued to linger in his mind.

At that moment, Berman remembered.

“Ah. That’s right. That’s why I created the family.”

Slurp

The reason he had created the family.

“The Capenna Family wasn’t just a group of powerless orphans trying to survive.”

Slurp

“It was a precious family where we could share soup, sometimes eat apple pie, and laugh and chatter about trivial things. Yes. I already had a family. And I’ve had them for a very long time.”

Back then, even though they wore rags and shared a single bowl of soup among many, they were all happy and had dreams.

“John, who said his dream was to marry the woman from the bakery and run the shop, always made apple pie for us on days when he had the time. Benny, who wanted to become a bookstore owner, learn to read, and read fairy tales to everyone. Rufus, who boasted about making a lot of money so no one would go hungry… And me…”

With each spoonful, memories of his childhood friends surfaced one by one.

Some had died in accidents, others due to the schemes of rival organizations, leaving only Rufus and him as the last founding members. But he remembered the dreams they had all shared.

“And I wanted to create a street in Omerta where criminals didn’t exist, where children wouldn’t be abandoned by their parents due to debt, where everyone in the family could live in peace…!”

As Berman continued to eat the soup, spoonful by spoonful, he gradually picked up the pace. Before long, he had completely emptied the bowl of soup Kurt had given him.

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