[Null POV] Year 0, Day 3-4 (Food discoveries in Borderwatch Village)

  Null and Void stepped back out into the village, the morning sun climbing higher.

  "So where do we start this 'research'?" Void asked, clearly amused.

  "That stall. The one with the bread."

  "You already tried bread."

  "Different bread. Different baker. Need to compare."

  "This is going to be a long day," Spy observed.

  They approached the bakery stall—a cheerful dwarf woman kneading dough behind a counter covered in fresh loaves. The smell was incredible. Yeast and wheat and something sweet.

  "Morning, travelers!" the baker called out. "Fresh bread, just from the oven! Best in Borderwatch!"

  "I'll take one of those," Void said, pointing to a rounded loaf with herbs baked into the crust.

  "Three copper, young master!"

  Void paid, received the bread, and tore off a piece. Ate it. Null focused on their connection, getting that faint impression of his enjoyment but not the taste itself.

  Not good enough.

  She looked at Void. Then at the bread. Then back at Void.

  Made her eyes just slightly wider. More open. Less dead stare, more... hopeful?

  "Mistress, are you... are you making what I think you're making?"

  "What?"

  "That expression. You're doing the kitten eyes. Asking without words."

  She hadn't meant to make that expression. Didn't even realize she was doing it until Void pointed it out. But apparently her face was learning to express things her mind couldn't consciously feel.

  Interesting.

  "I want to try the bread."

  "I just ate an entire breakfast and a tray of food in our room."

  "Please?" She made the eyes slightly wider.

  Through their connection, she felt Void's resistance crumble completely. "I... fine. Great On—" He caught himself. "Mistress needs to conduct research."

  Void turned back to the baker. "Actually, I'll take another. My companion would like to try it."

  The baker's eyes flicked to Null—the silent, dangerous battlemaid—then back to Void. "Your... companion eats?"

  "Apparently."

  "Well! First time for everything!" The baker handed over another loaf, clearly delighted at the extra sale.

  Void tore off a piece and handed it to Null.

  She ate it.

  The bread was warm, soft, with herbs that added complexity to the flavor. Better than the bread from the room. Fresher. The crust had that perfect crunch.

  "This is good."

  "I'm glad you approve."

  "We're doing this for every stall, aren't we?"

  "For science," Null confirmed.

  The baker watched the battlemaid eat with visible surprise. "She likes it! Well, we have sweet rolls too, if she wants—"

  "We'll take two," Void said, resigned to his fate.

  They moved to the next stall. Grilled vegetables. Then another with roasted nuts. Then one selling fruit skewers. Then pastries. Then meat pies.

  At each stall, the same pattern. Void would buy something. Eat a bite. Null would look at him with those slightly-too-wide eyes. He'd cave and buy more.

  The vendors loved it. The mysterious wealthy elf with endless appetite and generous tipping.

  But by the fifth stall, Void was visibly struggling.

  "Mistress, I can't. I'm actually full. Painfully full. If I eat anymore I'm going to be sick."

  "But there are more stalls."

  "I know. But I'm still flesh and blood. There are limits."

  Null looked at the next food stand—something with skewered meats and interesting spices. Then looked at Void with clear disappointment.

  "Please? You don't have to eat it. Just buy it for me. I'll eat it myself."

  "People will see a battlemaid eating food directly without her master. That's... unusual."

  "People already saw me accepting flowers from orphans. I think we're past 'unusual.'"

  Void had no counter to that logic.

  "Fine. But this is the last one for today. We're drawing enough attention as is."

  "Thank you, Gr—Mistress." He caught himself. The slip.

  Void moved quickly toward the meat skewer stand. The honorific that kept almost escaping. Better to keep moving. Not dwell on it.

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  "Three serpent skewers, please."

  The vendor—a young human man with burn scars on his arms—prepared the order. "You've got quite an appetite today, friend!"

  "My companion is... particular about trying local cuisine."

  The vendor glanced at Null, did a double-take when he realized the battlemaid was the one eating, then decided not to question it. "Well, everyone's got their tastes! Here you go!"

  Void handed the skewers directly to Null this time.

  She ate them one after another, savoring each bite. The spices were different from the morning's serpent meat. Hotter. More complex. Different preparation method.

  Better.

  Around them, villagers were definitely watching now. The young elf and his battlemaid, moving from stall to stall, the maid actually eating the food with visible enjoyment.

  It was strange. But harmless. The wealthy elf who indulged his battlemaid's curiosity. Rich, powerful, and clearly not causing trouble. Just... buying food.

  Lots of food.

  By midday of the first day, word had spread through the entire village. The elf and his food-obsessed battlemaid.

  The rest of day one continued in much the same fashion. More stalls. More tastes. More coins changing hands. By evening, Null had systematically sampled every food vendor in the plaza at least once, and several favorites twice.

  She'd discovered preferences. The honey rolls from the bakery. The spiced serpent from the morning vendor. Those fried dough things with cinnamon sugar. The grilled vegetables with that herb blend she couldn't identify.

  Each taste was a small spark in the emptiness inside her. Not enough to fill the void. But enough to make her want more.

  Day two followed the same pattern, but the merchants had adapted.

  The baker saw them coming and immediately pulled out her specialty items. "Young master! I saved these for you—honey rolls with imported spices! Your companion will love them!"

  The meat vendor had prepared extra skewers with experimental spice combinations. "Try this one—dragon pepper and salt-crystal! New recipe!"

  The fruit seller offered exotic imports. "From the southern coast! Never seen these before? Your maid should taste them!"

  Null tried everything. Systematically. Thoroughly.

  Void's coin purse got steadily lighter, but he didn't complain. They had plenty from the caravan—enough to indulge any whim for months. And watching his Mistress actually experience something positive, something that brought her clear satisfaction despite her emotional suppression...

  Worth every copper.

  "Why does food matter so much to you?" he asked during a break between stalls. "You don't need it for survival. The energy gain is negligible. Why invest so much time in this?"

  Null was quiet for a moment, considering how to explain.

  "Food is the first thing I've felt that seems... human. Since coming to this world, everything's been different. Wrong. My body doesn't work like it should. No sleep. No hunger. No emotions. Just existence and analysis."

  "But food? Taste? That connects to something. I have memories—faint ones, fragmented—of tasting things before. Before the games consumed everything. Before I became whatever I am now. This body was senseless. Just a shell for combat and observation."

  "Food is the first thing I actually feel. Actually experience. Actually enjoy in a way that seems real."

  She looked at the next stall—a vendor selling some kind of fried dough with sugar.

  "So yes. I'm going to try everything. Because it's the only thing that makes me feel like I'm still connected to being... something other than a monster."

  Void felt something twist in his chest through their bond. Not quite pain. Not quite sadness. Just...

  Understanding.

  "Then we'll try everything, Mistress. Every food. Every taste. Whatever you want."

  "Thank you."

  By the end of day two, every food vendor in Borderwatch knew them. The wealthy elf noble who indulged his battlemaid's appetite. Who paid generously, tipped freely, and never complained about prices.

  The village's perception had shifted.

  Yes, the battlemaid was dangerous. Her aura confirmed she'd killed extensively, without remorse. That dark presence that radiated from her core wasn't faked or theatrical.

  But she wasn't psychotic. Wasn't unstable. Wasn't randomly violent like so many battlemaids became.

  The experienced adventurers—the ones who'd survived decades of danger, who'd faced real monsters and learned to read them—they understood.

  Null was like an apex predator. Deadly if provoked. Lethal if her master was threatened. But otherwise? She just existed. Watched. Observed. Ate food with visible enjoyment and asked for more with those incongruous kitten eyes.

  She had boundaries. Clear ones. Her master was the obvious line. Threaten Void, and you died. But short of that?

  She was probably safer than half the actual battlemaids they'd encountered over the years. The genuinely unstable ones who'd stab you for looking at them wrong, who'd start fights over imagined insults, who'd kill servants for minor mistakes.

  This one? Keep her fed, show respect, don't threaten the elf, and you were fine.

  By day two afternoon, children were playing near her when she stood at stalls. Not the orphans—they'd apparently been lectured by the guild and were staying away. But other village children, emboldened by her lack of reaction, by the way she just stood there eating pastries with that blank expression.

  Their parents watched nervously at first. Then relaxed when nothing happened. The battlemaid just ignored them, focused on her food, showed no aggression.

  Dangerous, yes. But manageable.

  The adventurer village culture adapted quickly. Weirdos were normal here. As long as you didn't actively murder people, you were acceptable. Rich, powerful, and not causing trouble? Welcomed enthusiastically.

  And the spending helped. Null and Void had poured more coin into the local economy in two days than most visitors did in a month. Every vendor who'd sold to them was singing their praises.

  Good for business. Good for the village. Good for everyone.

  [Torvan POV]

  In his office, Guild Master Torvan read the daily reports with growing bemusement.

  Day 1: Elf and battlemaid toured village. Purchased food from every stall. Battlemaid ate. Extensively. Elf appeared to be indulging her preferences. No incidents. Generous payment.

  Day 2: Pattern continues. Vendors now preparing special items for them. Battlemaid shows clear preferences—returns to favorite stalls multiple times. Has consumed enough food to feed a dozen people. No apparent limit to appetite. Elf continues paying without complaint. Estimates suggest they've spent upward of fifty gold on food alone—more than most adventurers earn in a month of dangerous hunts. No incidents. Locals growing comfortable with their presence.

  Assessment: Eccentric but harmless. Battlemaid is dangerous but controlled. No threat to village unless provoked. Recommend continued observation but reduced concern level.

  Torvan set down the report and shook his head.

  In four hundred years, he'd seen a lot of strange things.

  But a powerful battlemaid with an apparent food addiction and kitten eyes was a new one.

  At least they weren't killing anyone.

  [NULL POV]

  The evening of the second day arrived. The auction was scheduled for tonight—late evening, after most adventurers returned from their hunts.

  Null and Void sat in their room, Null finishing another selection of foods Void had brought up. She'd developed favorites. The honey rolls from the bakery. The spiced serpent from the morning vendor. Those fried dough things with cinnamon sugar.

  "Ready for the auction?" Void asked.

  "Ready to see what's so important they didn't advertise it."

  "It could be nothing. Local goods, common items, standard merchant fare."

  "Or it could be interesting."

  "Either way, it's a public event. Good opportunity to observe more of the culture, see how these people operate when there's competition for resources."

  Void stood, adjusting his outfit to look more presentable. "Shall we, my dear?"

  Null took one last bite of honey roll, stored the rest in her item box for later, and stood.

  "Ready."

  They headed downstairs. The common room was packed—adventurers who'd finished their daily hunts, merchants closing their shops to attend, locals gathering for what was apparently significant entertainment.

  Everyone was heading toward the guild house.

  Null and Void joined the flow of people moving through the plaza. Villagers who'd grown used to them over the past two days nodded respectfully to Void, gave Null her space, showed none of the initial wariness.

  The elf who fed his maid. The strange but harmless pair. Rich, powerful, but not troublesome.

  Acceptable.

  They reached the guild house entrance. Torvan himself was there, greeting attendees.

  His eyes found them in the crowd, and he smiled—professional, welcoming.

  "Young master! Glad you could join us. First auction in Borderwatch?"

  "It is," Void confirmed. "We're curious what merits such an event."

  "Oh, you'll see. Should be quite interesting tonight. Please, come in. There are seats near the front if you'd like."

  "Thank you, Guild Master."

  They entered the guild house, Null's eyes adjusting to the interior lighting.

  Time to see what this world considered valuable enough to auction.