The losers in daily youth have all become witches

"Didn't you feel it was a bit troublesome just now so you left it at the door instead of bringing it over?"

Li Mo asked.

"That's right~ Ahahahaha..."

The purple-haired drunkard let out a strange laugh.

Kawaraki Momoka: "..."

This isn't good. This drunkard is totally unreliable.

She glanced again at the pink-haired guitarist who was still lying on the tatami, looking up at her cautiously, but crawled down again the moment their eyes made contact. Except for his ahoge, every part of his body was hanging on the ground.

Well, this guy doesn't look trustworthy at all.

So, am I the only serious person at this table? I should find a few opportunities to get out of here...

Momoka Kawahara grabbed the strap of her guitar case and was about to stand up as she made this decision in her heart.

"Waiter, please give me two assorted tempura sets, one Tatsuta fried chicken, one deep-fried squid, one Chikuzen-ni, and do you have beef tendon stew? If you have that, I'll give you one too. Also, chawanmushi and pork miso soup. For the appetizer, I'd like Fukujinzuke."

Li Mo glanced at Hiroi Kikuri and Kawahara Momoka and said, "And edamame, and then two glasses of draft beer and two glasses of juice. It's my treat, you don't have any dietary restrictions, right?"

Momoka Kawahara swallowed her saliva and sat back down on the tatami cushion, which had just left the cushion by a centimeter.

After all, he hadn't made much money from street performances for a while, and the little money he earned from odd jobs was already the limit for maintaining a normal life. Every day he ate either rice balls from convenience stores or discounted bean sprouts from supermarkets. He had no spare money to go to an izakaya for a good meal, let alone draft beer.

"I don't want draft beer, I want soju! Soju!"

Hiroi Kikuri immediately closed the distance between herself and Li Mo and pleaded with him, "The Dassai at this izakaya is very famous!"

"If you want to eat, you have to pay for it yourself."

Li Mo said coldly.

"whispering sound……"

The purple-haired drunk muttered, "Stingy man."

Obviously, this person is also a fellow who is short of money.

For some reason, Kawahara Momoka felt a strong resonance with this—after all, they were all rock musicians, so it seemed normal for them to be so broke that they couldn't even afford to eat...

"Although it feels a little late to ask now, I wonder what your relationship is with Ichiri?"

Li Mo asked the two of them with a pleasant expression.

Kawahara Momoka immediately began to wonder if she could still get a free meal today if she just said she was a stranger. Meanwhile, the purple-haired drunk on the other side happily responded, "I'm optimistic about Goto's potential, so I'm teaching her the essential skills to be a rock band member early on!"

"Is that right?"

Li Mo looked at Goto Ichiri, whose face was filled with an expression of 'I want to go home': "What skills are they specifically?"

It's probably things like 'stay relaxed while playing,' 'don't dwell on it even if you make a small mistake, just keep playing,' 'check your picks before going on stage,' and 'treat the audience like pumpkins,' said Kawahara Momoka.

Having participated in many live performances, she knew very well that so-called tricks were basically unreliable. Once on stage, all she could rely on was her usual practice and her mindset that day. I imagine this professional bassist must be similar...

"Of course it's drinking! Only by drinking can I forget all the anxieties, leaving only happy memories... That's right, I'd like to call it the happiness spiral! If my boyfriend wants, he can learn it too, it's free~"

The purple-haired drunk said smugly.

Looking at Li Mo's expression which gradually turned into a forced smile, Kawahara Momoka began to worry whether she could still have the meal.

Chapter 328: Fragments.

When Momoka Kawahara opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.

She found herself curled up on the off-white bed. The air smelled of high-grade dehumidifier, and the air conditioner hanging on the wall made an almost imperceptible hum, obviously running.

When consciousness seemed to emerge from the alcohol swamp, the sunlight had already cut through the darkness through the gap in the curtains like a letter opener.

Even without the help of sunlight, Kawahara Ki Momoka could see clearly that there were very few furnishings and furniture in this room, and it was the so-called "minimalist" style of decoration.

She sat up from the bed and pulled open the curtains beside the bed. What she saw was completely different from the low and dilapidated walls outside the room she rented. It seemed to be a row of small buildings built by individuals in an upscale community.

"Where is this place?"

Momoka Kawahara's alcohol tolerance was not very good, but perhaps because of this, she did not suffer from a hangover, but her head was still a little dizzy.

She first checked her body and found that she was still wearing yesterday's clothes. Although the clothes smelled slightly of alcohol, there was nothing strange about it.

Then, the fragmented memories of last night gradually emerged from the depths of my brain.

I remember that I finally had that sumptuous dinner in the izakaya, and my boyfriend was very generous and poured drinks for her and the woman named Kikuri several times (of course, only draft beer).

Then as I drank, I started to lose my memory.

If that's the case, could this be the boyfriend's home?

What's strange is that I'm obviously quite cautious and usually behave myself when attending banquets. I wouldn't get drunk in front of strangers of the opposite sex, but for some reason last night I let my guard down and drank until I lost my memory.

Could it be that the guitarist lady really has the ability to confuse people like the legendary Siren?

No, if I think about it carefully, apart from the fact that there was a purple-haired guy who kept chattering away, guzzling draft beer and constantly urging me to drink, the main reason I drank too much was because my boyfriend gave me a strange feeling, as if he had some kind of magical power that made it difficult to resist his words...

Am I a person who is obsessed with younger men?

Kawahara Momoka muttered to herself, no, considering that he already has a girlfriend, there's a slight possibility that she's a husband-obsessed person...

"Oh, you're awake already?"

Suddenly, she heard a familiar male voice at the dinner table last night, which made Kawahara Momoka shudder.

She blurted out subconsciously: "No, that's not the case, I have a normal sexual orientation——"

"Eh, the conversation doesn't make any sense at all,"

As the boyfriend walked into the room, he murmured to himself in confusion: "Is he still drunk?"

"No, I'm fully awake."

Kawahara Momoka immediately said, "It's better to say he's very sober! A bit too sober!"

As she spoke, her eyes had already swept across the minimalist room and found her guitar case in the corner.

Very good, as long as I take that, I can run away at any time...

"Now that you're awake, come out and have breakfast."

My boyfriend opened the door and pointed outside: "But I'm a Chinese breakfast person, and there aren't many ingredients at home, so today I only have white porridge and some side dishes. I don't know if you can get used to it."

"Well, I don't need to..."

Momoka Kawahara was about to refuse, but her stomach started to growl, as if her stomach and liver were jointly condemning her for not eating a bowl of steaming hot rice porridge the morning after she had blacked out.

So she could only sigh in resignation and asked in a self-deprecating manner, "Is there any miso soup? Clam miso soup would be even better."

"You and that guy Hiroi really look alike..."

My boyfriend sighed.

"what?"

Kawahara Momoka immediately thought of the purple-haired drunkard from yesterday. If that guy hadn't been chattering beside her and urging her to drink, she wouldn't be in this dilemma now. Now that he said she looked like that guy, she felt a little angry: "How are we similar?"

"The first thing I want when I wake up is clam miso soup."

My boyfriend answered honestly: "That guy drank three times more than you, and later ordered a bottle of Demon Slayer, but he woke up earlier than you today."

"I actually have the same taste as that person, guh, kill me..."

Although she muttered some strange words like a princess knight, Kawahara Ki Momoka still quickly walked out of the room with her guitar.

But after she walked out of the room, she was stunned.

If the room can be described as minimalist, the living room outside is completely empty with no decoration except for a layer of wall paint. There is only an old sofa piled against the wall, which inexplicably looks like a ruin.

There are a little more things in the kitchen. There is a small solid wood table near the kitchen that makes people think of a kotatsu without a quilt. It probably serves as a dining table.

At this time, the purple-haired drunk named Hiroi Kikuri was curled up behind a low table, looking restless. Seeing Momoka and her boyfriend Jun appear, she immediately cried, "Um... can you give me back my wine? If I continue to be without wine, I feel like I'm going to become a loser, crushed by the anxiety of the future..."

"It doesn't matter. Realistically speaking, you already are. It doesn't matter whether you drink or not."

My boyfriend refused with a smile, but the cold words made the tearful Hiroi Kikuri tremble.

"...Is this guy like this?"

Kawahara Kimoka asked in surprise.

In her impression, the other person should be the type who is quite casual and careless in what he says and does.

"This is her true face. What you saw yesterday was just her appearance after drinking to build up her courage."

My boyfriend explained: "Last night, this guy was drunk, even worse than you, so he just left her on the sofa. Fortunately, she didn't vomit, otherwise it would be quite troublesome."

"Is it really okay for me to sleep in your room? Where are you sleeping yourself, boyfriend?"

Kawahara Momoka couldn't help but ask curiously: "Is he sleeping with his girlfriend?"

"If it's Yili, my house has a curfew and I won't stay here overnight."

My boyfriend replied: "As for you, what are you still talking about now?"

"what?"

Kawahara Momoka looked at Li Mo in surprise, feeling that something was wrong with what he had just said.

"Don't you remember?"

My boyfriend replied as a matter of course: "You said you would sell yourself to me yesterday."

“…Hah—?!”

"Oh, by the way, don't call me boyfriend-kun anymore. It can easily lead to misunderstandings."

The young man admired her gaffe with a smile and said happily, "My name is Asakura Takuma, you can call me boss."

Chapter 329 Chinese Breakfast.

There are always similar lines in the sad movies that Momoka Kawahara has seen: Even if you buy my body, you can't get my soul.

But Ling never expected that one day this line would be related to herself.

"Oh my, this is such a forbidden thing. Is this something I can watch without paying?"

Hiroi Kikuri held her face in her hands and said shyly.

"Just a moment of carelessness,"

Li Mo looked at the other person with a blush on his face and couldn't help but smack his lips and said: "Where did you get the wine from..."

"kitchen."

"Isn't that cooking wine?! As long as there's alcohol in it, you really don't care what you drink!"

"...Asakura-kun, you know, in order to survive, humans have to drink even the bitterest tears from below when necessary."

"Is alcohol essential to your survival?! What are you talking about with bitter tears? It's just a [beep]! Don't say such disgusting things while eating!"

Having said that, because Neon usually uses mirin or something like that instead of cooking wine to remove the fishy flavor, it’s hard to buy authentic cooking wine outside of Chinatown. Li Mo’s cooking wine is basically replaced with rice wine. Theoretically, it’s not unbearable to drink, but people like Hiroi Kikuri who usually only drink beer and sake will definitely not be able to get used to it…

"Rather than that, could you please explain my situation first?"

Momoka Kawahara didn't know if it was the aftereffects of yesterday's alcohol or she simply couldn't stand the two noisy people in front of her. She rubbed her temples and spoke through gritted teeth.

"That's true. But instead of talking about it, let's talk about it while eating. It's rare for me to cook, and it won't taste good if it gets cold."

Li Mo greeted.

After having the support of the house-elves, he almost never cooked again (although his cooking skills were only average before), and he felt a sense of accomplishment when he cooked occasionally.

The white porcelain bowl was filled with rice porridge that had just been removed from the heat and was still bubbling in the pot a few minutes ago. The thick rice soup had a soft glow, and a few grains of rice cores were still steaming.

The porridge was served with some pickled vegetables, including Chinese pickled mustard greens bought from the supermarket - the radish was chopped as thin as hair, mixed with red chili oil and had an amber color, and was crispy with a slightly spicy taste of homely flavor - as well as Japanese fukujinzuke and dried radish. In addition, Li Mo also found some pickled garlic that had not yet expired from the corner of the refrigerator. Unfortunately, the fermented bean curd and olive paste at home had been eaten up, and the nearby convenience stores did not have such products and could not restock them, which made Li Mo feel quite regretful.

There were a few tea eggs on a plate on the side, with the eggshells cracked into thin cracks like ice cracks. Li Mo naturally did not have the American time to wait for the eggshells to crack naturally. Now the cracks on the eggshells were all knocked out by him with a spoon. But even so, as long as they were marinated for enough time, the egg whites would be soaked in the sauce color after peeling, and the outer circle of the egg yolk would be wrapped in a layer of sandy and glutinous golden edges. The dense taste when biting into the core was fascinating.

The most eye-catching thing is the fried anchovies piled up like a small mountain on the oil-absorbing paper on the plate. The anchovies, as big as willow leaves, are wrapped in batter and fried until crispy. Because of their size, even the fish bones are braised to be crispy and fragrant. Sprinkled with sporadic green onions and pepper salt, the fragrant aroma rises with the hot air. You can feel the salty and fresh taste just by smelling it, which makes you salivate.

Even Momoka Kawahara and Kikuri Hiroi, who were not used to Chinese breakfast, had their stomachs full and seemed quite satisfied with their breakfast.

At the dinner table, Li Mo also briefly explained to Kawahara Momoka what happened yesterday.

"In short, in order to punish the bad woman who corrupted the village, I plan to have an unlimited fight with her—"