The morning sun filtered through the branches above Ryo as he awoke, stretching nguidly on his bedroll. He'd slept surprisingly well considering he was outdoors, his former noble body apparently more resilient than the overworked one he'd left behind in his previous life. A cool breeze rustled the leaves around him, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp earth.

  Ryo sat up, running a hand through his hair as he checked his status.

  [Name: Ryo Balvaine (Former Noble)]

  [Age: 18]

  [Unique Skill: "Slow and Steady" (Passive)]

  [Skills:

  - Brewing: Level 1

  - Cooking: Level 1

  - Negotiation: Level 1

  - Patience: Level 2

  - Combat Awareness: Level 2

  - Physical Reinforcement: Level 2]

  [Current Path: Tavern Master]

  He smiled, noting that his Patience skill had increased overnight. Apparently, sleeping counted as taking things slow. If that was the case, he'd have that skill maxed out in no time.

  Breakfast consisted of more bread and cheese, along with a small apple Anna had snuck into his pack. As he ate, Ryo considered his situation. He had enough gold to buy a modest tavern or possibly build one from scratch, depending on nd prices in Willowbrook. He had zero practical experience running a business or brewing ale or cooking for customers. By all reasonable metrics, this venture should fail spectacurly.

  And yet, he felt oddly confident. The system seemed designed to reward his natural inclinations. If taking things slow was the key to success, then he'd be the slowest, most methodical tavern owner the world had ever seen.

  After packing his bedroll and securing his belongings, Ryo continued down the road toward Willowbrook. According to his memories—or rather, the memories of the body's previous occupant—the vilge was about a day and a half away at a normal pace. Ryo decided to take his time, stopping frequently to admire the scenery or rest in the shade.

  Around midday, he spotted a small stream running parallel to the road. The water looked clear and inviting, so he decided to take a break. Kneeling by the bank, he cupped his hands and drank deeply, enjoying the crisp coldness of the water.

  A notification appeared:

  [Natural Resource Identified: Pure Spring Water]

  [Quality: Excellent]

  [Potential Uses: Brewing, Cooking, Cleaning]

  [Skill "Ingredient Assessment" Acquired - Level 1]

  Ryo raised an eyebrow. "Interesting," he murmured, looking more closely at the stream. He hadn't actively tried to assess the water; he'd just appreciated its taste. Apparently, the system rewarded even passive actions if they aligned with his chosen path.

  Curious to see what else might trigger skill growth, Ryo gathered some nearby berries and wild herbs. He arranged them carefully, then used his small knife to slice them, mixing them with the remaining bread and cheese.

  [Skill "Foraging" Acquired - Level 1]

  [Cooking has increased to Level 2]

  [Food Quality: Uncommon]

  His improvised lunch tasted surprisingly good—far better than it should have given the simple ingredients. The berries had a tart sweetness that complemented the cheese perfectly, and the herbs added a complex, savory note that elevated the entire meal.

  "If this is level two cooking, I wonder what the higher levels are like," Ryo mused, licking the st crumbs from his fingers.

  The rest of the day passed pleasantly as Ryo continued his journey. He encountered a merchant caravan heading in the opposite direction, nodding politely as they passed. One of the merchants, an older man with a thick beard, called out to him.

  "Heading to Willowbrook, young fellow?"

  Ryo nodded. "Yes. Is it much further?"

  "Another half day's walk, give or take," the merchant replied, adjusting his hat. "Nice little pce. My brother runs the general store there—Hendrick's his name. Tell him Marlow sent you, and he might give you a fair price." The man winked conspiratorially.

  "I appreciate the tip," Ryo said. "I'm pnning to open a tavern there, actually."

  The merchant's bushy eyebrows shot up. "A tavern? Well now, that's welcome news! Old Bertram's pce has been closed since he passed st winter. Vilge hasn't been the same without a proper watering hole."

  Ryo perked up at this information. "There's an empty tavern avaible?"

  "Should be, unless someone's cimed it since I was st through. Decent building, right on the vilge square. Might need some work, but the bones are good." Marlow scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Bertram's widow, Elma, would be the one to talk to. Sharp old bird, but fair."

  "Thank you," Ryo said, genuinely grateful for the information. "This saves me a lot of trouble."

  Marlow nodded. "Safe travels, young fellow. Hope to sample your ale next time I'm through!"

  As the caravan continued on its way, Ryo felt a surge of excitement. An existing tavern would be perfect—it would already have the necessary equipment and yout. All he'd need to do was clean it up, restock, and open for business.

  [Skill "Negotiation" has increased to Level 2]

  [Passive Information Gathering successful]

  Night was falling as Ryo decided to make camp for the second time. He found a small clearing not far from the road, set up his bedroll, and built a simple fire. His predecessor's body seemed to know the basics of survival, even if the pampered noble had rarely needed to use these skills.

  As the fmes crackled before him, Ryo pulled out one of the books he'd brought—a treatise on brewing techniques. He hadn't chosen it deliberately; it had simply been one of the few books in his room that seemed potentially useful. Now, he was gd he'd packed it.

  The book detailed various methods for brewing ales, meads, and wines, complete with illustrations of equipment and ingredients. Ryo read slowly, absorbing the information at a comfortable pace.

  [Studying relevant knowledge]

  [Brewing has increased to Level 2]

  He continued reading until his eyes grew heavy. Setting the book aside, Ryo y back on his bedroll, gazing up at the stars through gaps in the treetops. Tomorrow, he would reach Willowbrook and begin his new life in earnest. The thought brought a smile to his face as he drifted off to sleep.

  Morning came with the sound of birdsong and the distant bleating of sheep. Ryo packed up his camp after a light breakfast and continued his journey. The road gradually widened as it approached the vilge, the forests giving way to rolling pastures dotted with livestock and the occasional farmhouse.

  By midday, Ryo could see Willowbrook in the distance—a collection of stone and timber buildings nestled in a gentle valley, with a small river winding through it. Smoke rose from chimneys, and he could make out figures moving about the vilge square.

  As he drew closer, Ryo took in the details of what would hopefully be his new home. The vilge was rger than he'd expected, with perhaps fifty or sixty buildings spread out along the river and up the gentle slopes of the valley. A stone bridge crossed the water at the center of the settlement, connecting the two halves of the vilge. The buildings were a mix of timber-framed structures with thatched roofs and more substantial stone buildings with ste tiles.

  Children pyed in the streets, chasing each other and ughing. Women hung undry to dry or carried baskets of goods from one house to another. Men worked at various crafts outside their homes or talked in small groups. It was exactly the sort of peaceful, idyllic scene Ryo had hoped for.

  He crossed the bridge into the vilge proper, drawing curious gnces from the locals. His clothing, though not especially fine after two days on the road, still marked him as someone of means—a stranger worth noting in a small community.

  The vilge square wasn't hard to find. It sat at the heart of Willowbrook, a broad open space surrounded by the most important buildings—a modest stone structure that was clearly the vilge hall, a slightly rger building with a bell tower that served as both church and school, a two-story establishment with rge dispy windows that must be Hendrick's general store, and directly across from it, a solid-looking building with a faded wooden sign hanging outside.

  Ryo approached the building with the sign. Up close, he could make out the image of a foaming mug and the name "The Drunken Sheep" carved into the wood. The windows were shuttered, and the door was barred, but the structure itself appeared sound.

  "You looking to buy old Bertram's pce?" a voice called out.

  Ryo turned to see an elderly woman watching him from across the square. She sat on a bench outside the general store, a half-finished piece of knitting in her p.

  "If it's for sale," Ryo replied, crossing the square to speak with her.

  The woman squinted up at him, taking his measure with sharp blue eyes that belied her advanced age. "I'm Elma. Bertram was my husband. That was our tavern for forty-three years until his heart gave out st winter."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Ryo said, and meant it. "My name is Ryo. I heard from a merchant named Marlow that the tavern might be avaible."

  "Marlow, eh? That old gossip." Despite her words, Elma's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "Why's a young fellow like you want to run a tavern in Willowbrook? You don't look like a local."

  "I'm not," Ryo admitted. "I was... looking for a change. Somewhere quieter, where I could take life at my own pace."

  Elma studied him for a long moment, then nodded as if he'd passed some test. "The tavern needs someone young with a strong back. It's been closed too long. Vilge isn't the same without a pce for folks to gather and share news."

  "How much are you asking for it?" Ryo inquired, trying to keep his voice casual despite his excitement.

  "Seventy gold coins for the building, the fixtures, and everything inside," Elma said without hesitation. "It's worth more, but I'd rather see it open again than collect dust."

  Ryo considered the price. It was less than he'd expected to pay, leaving him with thirty gold coins for supplies and initial operating costs. "Could I see inside before deciding?"

  "Sensible," Elma approved. She set her knitting aside and stood with the aid of a wooden cane. "Come along, then."

  They crossed the square together, drawing even more curious looks from the vilgers. Elma moved slowly but purposefully, and Ryo matched his pace to hers without compint. At the tavern door, she produced a rge iron key from a pocket in her apron and unlocked the heavy padlock securing the bar across the entrance.

  "Mind the dust," she warned as she pushed the door open. "Nobody's been in here properly since the funeral."

  The interior was dim with the shutters closed, but enough light filtered through the cracks to reveal a spacious common room. A long wooden bar stretched along one wall, with shelves behind it for bottles and mugs. Tables and benches were arranged throughout the space, some pushed against the walls, others clustered in the center. A massive stone firepce dominated the far wall, rge enough to roast a whole pig.

  Dust covered everything, and cobwebs stretched between the rafters, but Ryo could see the potential immediately. The wooden floor was solid underfoot, the tables were sturdy, and the bar itself was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, polished smooth by decades of use.

  "Kitchen's through there," Elma said, pointing to a doorway behind the bar. "Living quarters upstairs—three bedrooms and a sitting room. Celr below for storage and aging. The brewing shed's out back."

  Ryo wandered through the space, running his fingers along the bar, inspecting the firepce, testing the stairs that led to the upper floor. Everything was well-built and in good repair, if desperately in need of cleaning.

  [Property Assessment Complete]

  [Value: Excellent]

  [Condition: Good (Requires Cleaning)]

  [Potential: High]

  "What do you think?" Elma asked as Ryo completed his inspection.

  "I'll take it," Ryo said without hesitation. "Seventy gold coins, as you said."

  Elma's weathered face broke into a genuine smile. "Just like that? No haggling?"

  Ryo shrugged. "The price is fair, and it's exactly what I'm looking for."

  "Well now," Elma said, sounding pleased. "That's refreshing. Most folks these days would try to talk me down to sixty or less."

  "If you'd prefer I haggle..." Ryo offered with a small smile.

  Elma chuckled. "Cheeky boy. No, seventy is fair. But I'll throw in a favor—I'll send my grandsons over to help you clean the pce up. Those boys need something to do besides chasing girls and getting into mischief."

  "I appreciate that," Ryo said, reaching into his pack for the pouch of gold coins. He counted out seventy and handed them to Elma.

  [Negotiation has increased to Level 3]

  [Property Acquired: The Drunken Sheep Tavern]

  [New Skill Tree Unlocked: Tavern Management]

  Elma weighed the pouch in her hand, then tucked it securely into her apron. "The deed's at my house. I'll bring it by tomorrow morning." She handed him the key. "This pce was Bertram's pride and joy. Treat it well."

  "I will," Ryo promised.

  After Elma left, Ryo stood alone in the dusty common room of his new tavern. His tavern. The thought was both exhirating and terrifying. He had no experience running a business or managing a tavern. He'd never brewed ale commercially or cooked for paying customers. And yet, here he was, owner of The Drunken Sheep.

  He walked slowly around the room, taking in every detail. The bar had seen decades of use, its surface worn smooth by countless mugs and elbows. The tables and benches were solid oak, built to withstand rowdy patrons and spilled drinks. The firepce could easily heat the entire common room in winter, with a heavy iron pot hook for preparing stews and soups.

  Ryo moved behind the bar, examining the storage shelves and the trapdoor that presumably led to the celr. A row of dusty mugs hung from hooks, and several barrels—likely empty—were stacked against the wall.

  The kitchen beyond the bar was small but functional, with a stone oven, a rge worktable, and various pots and utensils hanging from ceiling hooks. A pump in the corner provided fresh water directly from a well—a luxury that would have been envied in his previous world.

  Upstairs, Ryo found the living quarters just as Elma had described—three modest bedrooms and a comfortable sitting room with its own small firepce. The rgest bedroom featured a sturdy four-poster bed with a straw mattress that would need repcing, but otherwise seemed perfectly serviceable. The other two rooms were smaller, perhaps intended for children or guests.

  Back downstairs, Ryo found the door that led to the brewing shed in the rear courtyard. The small stone building housed rge vats for brewing, a mash tun for preparing grains, and various tools of the brewer's trade. Everything was coated in dust but appeared to be in working order.

  [Brewing Equipment Assessment Complete]

  [Condition: Good (Requires Cleaning)]

  [Capacity: 100 gallons per batch]

  [Brewing has increased to Level 3]

  Ryo returned to the common room and sat at one of the tables, considering his next steps. He needed to clean the pce thoroughly before he could open for business. He needed supplies—food, drink, fresh bedding, cleaning materials. He needed to learn how to actually run a tavern.

  But for the first time in either of his lives, Ryo didn't feel anxious about the challenges ahead. The system rewarded taking things slowly, and that's exactly what he intended to do. He would clean one room at a time, learn one skill at a time, make progress day by day without rushing.

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Ryo opened it to find two young men, perhaps sixteen and eighteen, standing outside.

  "Grandmother sent us," the older one said. "Said you bought the tavern and needed help cleaning it up."

  "I'm Tomas," the younger one added. "This is my brother, Galen. Bertram and Elma are—were—our grandparents."

  "Ryo," he introduced himself. "And yes, I could definitely use some help with the cleaning."

  The brothers exchanged gnces. "Grandmother said you'd pay us," Galen ventured.

  "Of course," Ryo agreed. "How about two copper coins each per day, plus meals while you're working?"

  Their eyes widened. It was apparently a generous offer.

  "Deal," Galen said quickly, before Ryo could reconsider. "We can start right now."

  "Perfect," Ryo said, stepping aside to let them enter. "Let's start with opening these shutters and getting some fresh air in here."

  As the brothers busied themselves with the windows, Ryo found himself smiling. He had a tavern. He had help. He had a new life stretching out before him, free from the crushing deadlines and expectations that had defined his previous existence.

  [Quest Completed: Acquire Tavern]

  [Reward: Tavern Management Skill Tree Unlocked]

  [New Quest: Open for Business]

  [Objective: Clean and prepare the tavern, secure supplies, and serve your first customers]

  [Reward: Tavern Reputation System Unlocked]

  "Hey, Ryo," Tomas called from across the room. "The whole vilge is talking about you already. Everyone's excited to have the tavern open again."

  "Everyone except Morris at the Prancing Pony," Galen added with a snort. "He's been the only drink in town since Grandpa died. Charging double for watered-down ale, the greedy bastard."

  Ryo raised an eyebrow. "There's another tavern in Willowbrook?"

  "If you can call it that," Tomas said scornfully. "It's more of an inn with a small taproom. On the north side of the vilge, mostly for travelers passing through. Morris has always been jealous of Grandpa's business."

  "Interesting," Ryo murmured. Competition could be a problem, but it could also be an opportunity. If this Morris was overcharging for poor quality, then providing a better product at a fair price would quickly win over the locals.

  As the brothers continued opening shutters and discussing which tasks to tackle first, Ryo walked back behind the bar, running his hand along the worn wood surface. He could picture it already—mugs of ale sliding across the polished top, ptes of hot food being passed to hungry patrons, the room filled with ughter and conversation.

  For the first time in either of his lives, Ryo felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  "Let's get to work," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "We've got a tavern to bring back to life."