Broly’s Multiversal Foodie Adventure

In the western frontier of the Empire, the folk customs were simple and straightforward. Just as Broly, Akame, Kurome, and the others left the swampy region, a passing merchant caravan took them in.

Although this caravan chose to ambush them the next night over the bag of pearls, they also provided a lot of food, transportation, and other supplies.

Later, on the way to the border city marked on the map, they encountered two slave-catching teams. Seeing that the caravan was led by a group of children, the slave catchers not only wanted the caravan's goods but also aimed to capture Broly and the others as slaves.

The result was the complete defeat of the slave-catching teams. The slaves they had captured were freed, with those who could return home doing so, while those who couldn't or had no home joined Broly's caravan, becoming part of the team.

As they approached the main road, possibly because they were a caravan, they were attacked by eight different groups of bandits.

Five of these groups attacked without warning, harming the caravan members, which angered Broly. He used energy blasts to obliterate both the bandits and their hiding spots.

The remaining three groups, who only wanted to collect a toll and were somewhat more "civilized," managed to find work as guards for the caravan after some friendly negotiation.

"Spare us, sir! We only turned to banditry because the taxes were too heavy, and we couldn't survive. We've never killed anyone, only taken money. We just want to live. Please, have mercy and spare us this time..."

The process of hiring caravan guards generally went like this. Fortunately, these malnourished bandits knelt quickly, or Broly would have vaporized them on the spot.

Sitting in the carriage, munching on sweet purple thorn fruits, Broly felt that the people of the Empire's western frontier were incredibly hospitable. Even before reaching the first city marked on the map, many had already sent various supplies and manpower.

If only there were such generous people on Planet Vampa, Broly thought. Unfortunately, no such kind souls existed there.

"Whoa!"

The caravan suddenly stopped.

"What's going on? Did more good people come to greet us?"

Broly poked his head out of the carriage to ask.

"No, it's not bandits. We've reached the border checkpoint and are now waiting in line to pass through."

Nahashu explained. He was dressed in tailored clothes that once belonged to the former caravan leader, with a monocle over his right eye and a tanned complexion, giving him the air of a young steward.

He looked at least four or five years older than his actual age.

"No good people, huh..."

Broly was a bit disappointed. Since no good people had come, he retreated back into the carriage to continue eating the fruits.

The border checkpoint inspection wasn't very strict. The reason was that three years ago, the Empire's central government had withheld the military pay for the western frontier's garrison.

To prevent a mutiny, the garrison commander started charging tolls at the border. Nowadays, as long as the toll was paid, the soldiers wouldn't even bother inspecting the cargo.

This situation had turned the border city into a bustling hub. Former smugglers no longer took dangerous private routes but flocked to this city, where lax inspections and sufficient tolls allowed easy passage in and out of the Empire.

"However, this also makes the city's population very diverse. All sorts of people are here—bandits like me, visitors from the West, and even barbarians from the wilderness..."

The bandit leader, who had been subdued by Broly's strength, explained the situation in the border city. Essentially, it was a large marketplace where the Eastern Empire, Western kingdoms, and various barbarian tribes came together to trade goods.

Inside the city, the garrison maintained order, creating a semblance of peace. But outside the city, it was a free-for-all, showcasing the "simple" customs of the western frontier.

Everyone was a merchant, but everyone could also become a bandit. The main factions were divided into three groups: the Western Merchant Guild, composed of Empire merchants; the Foreign Merchant Guild, formed by Western kingdoms to counter the Empire's guild; and finally, the barbarian tribes, seen as uncivilized savages.

Usually, the first two factions clashed but united to suppress the barbarian merchants to obtain cheaper goods.

However, some powerful barbarian tribes weren't to be trifled with. They were the true bandits of the frontier, taking both wealth and lives.

Of course, when others robbed and killed, they often blamed the barbarians. After all, uncivilized savages were capable of anything.

Thus, despite being the weakest group, the barbarians had the worst reputation. Even in this border city, few welcomed barbarian caravans.

"No wonder Chief Riddriel couldn't do business here."

The lack of unity among the barbarian tribes was one reason, but the Empire and Western merchants' concerted efforts to suppress them was another.

"Sir, do you need porters? We have strong laborers at a cheap price."

"No, our caravan has its own porters."

After dismissing the broker who came looking for business, Nahashu returned to the carriage.

"Broly, you all go ahead and eat. I'll handle the caravan's goods."

"Can't you leave it to someone else?"

"I don't trust others with it. I'll stay and keep an eye on things."

The others had joined under duress or halfway through the journey. Who knew if someone might run off with the money? Nahashu felt it was necessary to keep an eye on the wealth for Broly.

"We'll bring you some food."

Some chose to stay and help, but the foodies were an exception.

"If any of you harm them, I'll kill you."

Broly said seriously to the subdued bandits.

"We wouldn't dare."

These people quickly waved their hands. Most had seen Broly unleash energy blasts that vaporized entire groups of bandits who attacked without warning.

The terrifying sight of the landscape being altered had instilled both fear and respect in them. They feared his immense power but also respected him for sparing their lives and giving them a chance to live.

In the bustling border city, Broly wandered the streets, sniffing various scents, and eventually led the group of children into a noodle shop.

The shop was noisy, with the rich aroma of broth made from unknown animal bones and spices wafting through half the street.

"Such a delicious smell! Boss, give us a hundred bowls of noodles!"

"Coming right up! Wait, a hundred bowls? Can a group of kids eat that much?"

"Here's the money. Even if we can't finish, we'll pay."

"Alright, the noodles will be ready soon."

Seeing the money, the shop owner didn't care whether the kids could finish the food or not.

As long as they paid, they could even smash the shop.

Besides noodles, the shop also sold other foods.

It had to be said, grilled meat with spices and without spices were entirely different things.

"Delicious."

Broly wolfed down the food, and the other children were no different. Everyone at the table was satisfied by the delicious meal.

---

But while some children were satisfied, others were not—the street children of the border city.

They stood on street corners and in alleys, casting envious glances at those who could afford to eat in restaurants.

Their eyes were filled with longing, hoping that the customers sitting at the outdoor tables would leave some leftovers.

For these street children, leftovers were one of the few ways to get decent food.

As for the inside of the restaurants, they didn't dare enter. They would be beaten by the staff.

The leftovers inside were fought over by groups of street children.

"Boss, check please!"

As the customer sitting at the outdoor table of a bun shop said this, several pairs of hungry eyes turned toward them. Seeing the leftover bun skins on the plate, the street children couldn't help but swallow their saliva.

But they didn't dare approach, like stray cats afraid of displeasing the person and being hurt.

Children like them could be beaten to death, and the perpetrator might only need to pay a street cleaning fee to the local authorities.

But even among stray cats, there were differences—those who were merely hungry and those who were on the verge of starvation.

"Excuse me, sir, could you give me the leftover bun skins on your plate?"

A girl wrapped in a dirty scarf, with a cute smile, approached the customer preparing to pay. She stood two meters away, cautiously asking.

Her stomach growled. Mein hadn't eaten in two days.