Chapter 58: Night at Lyon
Quick question: do you find the characters trivia at the end of the new chapter interesting or annoying? If it's annoying, I won't be doing them again
They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through Lyon like a group of tourists who had absolutely no business knowing how to kill monsters.
Séline and Camille took their jobs as guides very seriously.
They led the group through narrow cobblestone streets, across old bridges over the Rhône and Saône, and through lively squares where musicians were already playing Halloween jazz.
Dominic stopped every so often to take photos.
“Proof we actually leave the dungeon sometimes,” he said.
Janet rolled her eyes.
“You’re documenting it like a rare wildlife sighting.”
“It is rare,” Dominic said.
Meanwhile, Phong and Alex walked a little behind the others.
Phong unwrapped the bánh mì he had bought earlier and broke it in half.
He handed the bigger piece to Alex.
“Try it.”
She eyed it carefully.
“Vietnamese bread propaganda again?”
“Just eat.”
Alex took a bite.
Her expression changed at once.
“…Okay.”
She chewed slowly.
“That’s actually really good.”
Phong smirked.
“Told you.”
Alex wiped a crumb from her lip.
“Still doesn’t beat a proper German bakery.”
Phong shrugged in peace.
“Not arguing.”
The rare ceasefire lasted maybe thirty seconds before Dominic started another debate about pastries and colonial trade routes.
________________________________________
Eventually Camille led them into a quieter part of Lyon.
The streets here were calmer.
Less tourist traffic.
More neighborhood warmth.
She stopped in front of a modest but charming building with a wooden sign above the entrance.
Maison Delacroix – Chambres d’Hôtes
“My family’s place,” Camille said proudly.
It was a small family-run motel.
Flower boxes in the windows.
Soft yellow light inside.
Séline pointed to the building next door.
“And that one is ours.”
Its sign read:
Restaurant Lambert – Cuisine Lyonnaise
The two families had been neighbors for decades.
Business partners too.
Guests staying at the Delacroix motel almost always ate at the Lambert restaurant.
It had become a local habit.
“Customers sleep there,” Séline said, pointing at Camille’s family motel.
“Then they eat here.”
Camille grinned.
“We keep each other alive.”
________________________________________
The restaurant was warm and lively inside.
Wooden tables.
Soft candlelight.
Butter, wine, and herbs in the air.
Séline’s parents welcomed them warmly.
They were used to divers passing through from time to time. Lyon had become a minor hub thanks to the dungeon gate.
Still, the sight of this many costumed foreigners at once clearly amused them.
Dinner came quickly.
The table filled with traditional French dishes.
Pot-au-feu.
Beef bourguignon.
Coq au vin.
Duck confit.
Ratatouille.
Onion soup under thick melted cheese.
The smell alone could make a person forget dungeon monsters existed.
Phong studied his plate thoughtfully.
He had ordered pot-au-feu.
He tasted it carefully.
Rich broth.
Slow-cooked beef.
Root vegetables.
A deep warmth spreading through his chest.
He nodded.
“Very good.”
Alex leaned closer.
“Pho comparison?”
Phong shook his head.
“Not even close.”
Dominic raised a brow.
“I thought some historians say pho came from pot-au-feu.”
Phong snorted.
“That theory is nonsense.”
Everyone looked at him.
He kept eating calmly.
“Pot-au-feu is delicious.”
“But pho is a different dish.”
He tapped the bowl lightly.
“Different spices.”
“Different cooking logic.”
“Different cultural roots.”
Then he shrugged.
“Some Europeans claiming pho came from pot-au-feu is just historical bias wearing a food hat.”
Jake grinned.
“You just called colonial culinary theory racist.”
Phong lifted his glass.
“I called it lazy scholarship.”
Dominic laughed.
“Fair.”
________________________________________
Then the escargot arrived.
Small plates of snails in garlic butter.
Everyone stared at them with caution.
Except Phong.
He picked one up and ate it without hesitation.
Joanne blinked.
“You’re just… eating that?”
Phong nodded.
“We have snail dishes in Vietnam too.”
Alex tilted her head.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
He explained between bites.
“Usually boiled.”
“Then eaten with dipping sauce.”
“Fish sauce. Ginger. Lemongrass. Chili.”
Jack grimaced a little.
“Snails in fish sauce.”
“Sounds intense.”
Phong shrugged.
“Tastes great.”
No one else touched them.
Dominic slid the plate toward him.
“You can have them.”
“Gladly.”
________________________________________
The others stayed with more familiar dishes.
Dominic destroyed a plate of beef bourguignon.
Janet slowly enjoyed duck confit.
Jake and Jack shared onion soup and argued over whether angels or demons would prefer French wine.
Alex developed an instant fondness for the coq au vin.
“This is dangerously good.”
Camille smiled with pride.
“Family recipe.”
Ratatouille went around the table like comfort food.
Simple.
Perfectly done vegetables.
Then Phong noticed something missing.
“No foie gras?”
Séline shook her head.
“My parents stopped serving it.”
“Too cruel?”
Camille answered quietly.
“Yeah. They think the production method is too cruel.”
Force-feeding ducks and geese for enlarged livers had always been controversial.
Séline’s family had decided years ago it was not worth it.
Phong nodded with quiet respect.
“Makes sense.”
________________________________________
Dinner stretched long into the evening.
Wine.
Dessert.
Stories.
Séline’s parents listened with fascination as the group shared just enough dungeon adventure to be entertaining without revealing too much.
Rico sat proudly on the table.
He had somehow found another energy drink.
Camille’s mother stared at the raccoon.
“…Is that normal?”
Dominic sighed.
“Not even slightly.”
Outside, Lyon glowed with Halloween lights.
Inside the little family restaurant, Camp Stymphalian finally relaxed.
For one night, they were just travelers sharing food on a shared vacation.
No dungeon.
No floor bosses.
No cosmic things watching from the dark.
Just warmth, laughter, and a table full of good food.
Camille had already prepared everything by the time dinner ended.
Before anyone could protest or insist on paying their part, she handed out room keys with a grin.
“Too late,” she said. “Already booked.”
Dominic stared at the keys.
“…You planned this.”
Camille shrugged with fake innocence.
“We knew you were coming.”
Séline leaned in the doorway.
“And Lyon during Halloween is too good to waste by sleeping early.”
She pointed down the street where music was already drifting through the cool autumn air.
“There’s a party nearby.”
Live music.
Street-festival style.
Food stalls.
Wine.
A lot of costumes.
Dominic stood up immediately.
“Say no more.”
Janet sighed.
"Whenever you say that, troubles seem to follow shortly after."
"Hey, we're still alive, aren't we?"
"That's a low bar."
________________________________________
The party filled a small square not far from the restaurant.
Orange lights hung across the street.
A small band played lively jazz mixed with folk music.
People danced over the cobblestones.
Snacks and wine passed freely from hand to hand.
It was loud.
Warm.
Chaotic in the fun way.
Which meant Phong had already found the quietest corner possible.
He stood near the back wall with a cup in hand, watching the scene like a careful wildlife researcher studying an unfamiliar species.
Alex noticed right away.
She slipped away from the others and walked over.
“You’re hiding.”
“I’m observing.”
“You’re hiding.”
Phong gestured toward the dance floor.
“Those people clearly know what they’re doing.”
Alex grabbed his hand.
“Come on.”
Before he could protest, she dragged him into the crowd.
________________________________________
Phong had many strengths.
Farming.
Strategy.
Monster diplomacy.
Dancing was not one of them.
He moved like a man trying to disarm a bomb with his feet.
Careful.
Overthinking every step.
Trying very hard not to step on Alex’s shoes.
Which somehow made him even clumsier.
At one point he nearly lost balance and looked like a flopping manatee trying to swim through air.
Alex burst out laughing.
“You’re overthinking.”
“I’m trying not to step on you.”
She leaned close and whispered teasingly,
“You can step on my foot if it helps.”
“With my current stats, it probably wouldn’t even hurt.”
Phong looked horrified.
“That does not make it better.”
Still, little by little, awkwardly, he loosened up.
The music helped.
Alex guiding him helped more.
Eventually his movements started to resemble something vaguely dance-like.
Nearby, Dominic and Janet were dancing with much more confidence.
Jake and Jack had somehow turned their Aziraphale-and-Crowley act into a dramatic ballroom routine that drew cheers from half the square.
Séline, Camille, and Joanne stayed near the edge of the floor, laughing as they talked.
________________________________________
Not everyone at the party was charming.
A small group of men had been watching the women for a while.
They had clearly noticed the costumes.
The attention.
The fact that the girls were foreigners.
And they made the mistake of thinking that meant easy targets.
They walked over with sloppy confidence.
Séline noticed first.
Camille’s smile vanished at once.
Joanne sighed.
One of the men started in broken English.
Heavy accent.
Crude tone.
Catcalls.
Cheap comments thrown at Alex, Séline, Camille, and Joanne.
They carefully avoided Janet.
Dominic’s presence alone made that choice easy.
Phong got judged differently.
Slimmer.
Calmer.
Less obviously dangerous.
A mistake.
Alex’s expression hardened.
Séline rolled her shoulders.
Camille stepped forward slightly.
Joanne cracked her knuckles.
They were about to answer.
But someone else moved first.
A tiny blur shot through the crowd.
Rico.
Caffeinated Rico.
Powered by a stolen energy drink.
He moved like a furry missile.
Before anyone could react—
Zip.
Zip.
Zip.
Three belts loosened in rapid succession.
Three pairs of pants dropped in the middle of the dance floor.
For one perfect moment—
Silence.
Then the whole square exploded with laughter.
The men froze in humiliation.
Rico skidded to a stop like a professional menace.
Then bowed.
The men, now furious, scrambled to yank their pants back up.
“You little—!”
They lunged at the raccoon.
Huge mistake.
Wood creaked.
Branches snapped outward.
The treantling on Rico’s back expanded at once.
Living wooden armor formed around him.
Mana glowed across its surface.
The raccoon straightened dramatically.
Even puffed out his chest.
One of the men swung.
Rico sidestepped.
Another grabbed for him.
The treant armor shoved him back with surprising force.
Within seconds the whole group was stumbling away in shame while the crowd cheered and laughed.
Dominic crossed his arms proudly.
“That’s my raccoon.”
Janet shook her head.
“I refuse to claim him.”
Alex wiped tears from laughing too hard.
Even Séline and Camille were clapping.
Joanne raised her glass.
“To chaos.”
Phong stood near the dance floor watching Rico strut proudly in his wooden armor.
He shook his head slowly, smiling.
“Well.”
“That settles it.”
Dominic glanced over.
“What?”
Phong pointed at the raccoon.
“I’m officially more vulnerable than Rico.”
The raccoon raised both arms like a tiny superhero.
In the background, the band never even stopped playing.
And the party in Lyon carried on like nothing unusual had happened.
Alright. Here're some more trivia, this time it's about Alex:
- Papa Vogel had 2 brothers, both stayed in Germany. Mama Vogel inherited the family house in Italy while her brother (Alex's uncle) inherited the Surstroming factory
- She had a sweet tooth and was actually a pinkaholic until she reached college. Because she got into med school, she decided pink was too bright and dialed it down a little
- She liked Zorro (not the green hair pirate), so she chose rapier as her main weapon and wore a vigilante identity for 1 year after the dungeon appeared
- She's 1m73 about 5 feet 8 inches
- She had a weird fear of the dark, as in she was fine with darkness so long as she's awake. So Phong sleeping with night light never disturbed her
- She wrote a fanfic about barbie becoming magical girls (like Sailor Moon), but had never shared that with anyone else