Chapter 18: Roomtour

~ Precia ~

Dave shows me the house and I follow him. I was right: It's their headquarters indeed. The bottom floor has rooms for everyone to use. To the right, there’s an extended area with two wooden tables and comfortable seats. A set of cards still lies sprawled out on one of them. It looks like this is where they hang out. There’s a shelf with some books and a fireplace. It seems like it hasn’t been used in a few days.

To the left, Dave shows me where they cook. They call it ‘kitchen’. It doesn’t translate well into my language. A smaller fireplace can be run with firewood. Another, larger one is intended to be used with fire magic. Various things lay sprawled around the room. It doesn’t look like they cleaned up after their last meal. But it looks lived in. I wonder what kind of things I’ll get to eat. If they treat me fairly, they’ll probably give me food too…

~ Dave ~

The brat behaves herself while I show her around the living and cooking area that all of us share. While showing her the kitchen, reminding her not to ever touch a thing in here, I reminisce about some of the things Kenneth told me regarding demons’ diets…

*

Earlier, while riding the dragon:

Kenneth was in the middle of his massive rundown on what distinguishes demons from us humans.

“Let’s talk about their diet,” he said. “Demons are omnivores like us, which isn’t all that surprising when you consider we share a common ancestor.”

I felt briefly reminded of how all races came to be hundreds of generations before ours, but Kenneth left me no room to recollect the details.

“However, over time their diets have developed vastly differently from ours,” he continued as if reciting from a book. “Demons primarily eat meat during their meals while supplementing other foods occasionally. Their culinary sense is rudimentary, so most foods they make will taste bland to the human tongue.”

Suits them, I thought while listening on.

“When preparing or ordering meals for our hostage, ensure it always has meat. Their ability to deal with sugars and carbs varies greatly, and intolerances towards certain types of foods are commonplace among demons, similar to how many humans can’t deal with milk as they grow older. Unless she knows what she can’t handle, you’ll just have to observe and pray she can digest it.”

*

Back to the present:

I shudder at the memory. I recall asking Kenneth what that would lead to. He would then remind me of Lance’s birthday party last year when we ordered a cake with lots of cream all over it for the occasion. None of us knew Lance couldn’t handle dairy, and Lance, limited as he is, didn’t know it was dairy. It had been a disaster. Lance wouldn’t move from the bathroom all night. We had to share a bucket for a night - and we were all drunk, mind you!

Fun memories… Anyway.

I make a mental note to have someone buy lots of meat later. The brat shouldn’t eat us into bankruptcy with the funds we earned. Hopefully.

Besides, everyone loves a good roast. We can eat out more often now, too.

I return to the lobby, the brat following me on tip-toes like a duckling following their mother. A wooden stair leads to the upper floors, but, more importantly, two doors lead to rooms further behind. They are the most important places in this house. Frankly, they will be the hardest to explain…

*

Earlier:

Following his lecture on demon eating habits, most of which I couldn’t have ever called civilized, Kenneth began to explain a topic that piqued my attention, for I immediately realized it would be relevant.

“Did you ever think about how demons do their business?” the scientist asked. It must be pretty apparent from my dumbfounded gaze that I hadn’t, for he never waited for my reply. “It’s a fairly interesting topic, don’t give me that look! You see, demons haven’t invented bathrooms yet and if you ever ask one they’ll just tell you it’s ‘restricting’ to shit in a tiny hole when you can just make a big one.”

“What are you getting at?” I deadpanned. “Do they just… designate certain areas and allow demons to take their dump there, all in public?”

Kenneth smiled excitedly, the topic fascinating him far more than it should. “That’s exactly what they do! We were lucky the one in that settlement was on the other side of town.”

“Gross…” I exhaled. It was barbaric, but I expected nothing less from a culture like theirs. “I see… the brat is also a ‘big hole shitter’ then…”

*

Back to the present:

Kenneth would then continue to narrate in detail about various things I couldn’t care less about. I doubt I’d ever need to know what position demons particularly love while doing you-know-what. However, one thing struck me as particularly interesting. I throw an uncertain glance at the brat in her torn dress, awaiting my command.

I already knew demons have more muscle strength than humans. It’s basically common knowledge. However…

Thanks to a mixture of stronger and more flexible muscles, demons have an impressive capacity to store the waste they produce. Even when being conservative with rations, humans need to take a piss at least once a day and go number 2 every so often over a week. However, even though I’ve kept a close eye on our prisoner, I never once saw her relieve herself during those past three days. Coincidence?

She’s been under constant surveillance; we would have noticed…

Therefore, I assume the brat needs the potty sooner rather than later. I usher her into the room to the right first. It’s the room we use to take baths and clean ourselves. Part of the reason our rent is so high is because our guild house has running water, which can be heated using either magic or the warmth of the fireplace on the other side of the wall before dumping it into the tub.

The place would be in high demand today, that’s for sure. We all need a good scrub, the brat included.

“Wateeeer, maik, gleen,” the girl says in another attempt to use my language. The pronunciation is despicable, but at least it confirms that demons know the concept of washing themselves. It would have sucked if I had to explain how to take a bath. After showing her where the soap and towels are, I push her back out.

That’s one concern down; here comes the real challenge. How do I even begin?

I urge her into the other room on the left and quickly close the door behind me. It’s considerably smaller than the washing room and only contains a chair with a hole in it - a toilet. A certain stench permeates the air in the room. For the first time, the kid seems taken aback.

Here goes nothing…