In the sanctuary's dining hall, only synthetic food remained after the surface was destroyed. Zhuang Xiao disliked the texture of these foods, especially the synthetic meat here, which felt like marinated dry plastic. This discomfort grew stronger, especially after tasting normal meals in her dreams.
Lately, enjoying a hearty lunch in the dreamscape had become her salvation.
But alcohol was a good thing; no matter how the brewers in the sanctuary made it, at least it tasted no different from the real thing.
Merlin had booked a small private room, and a few bottles of alcohol would be quite an expense, even for those like them who held minor positions in the sanctuary.
Duli, also known as Mr. Mediterranean, seemed like an honest person. From the moment he sat down, he kept his head down, his uneasy hands not knowing where to place themselves.
"Come, Mr. Duli, I toast to you."
Once the hot dishes were served, Merlin started the formal toasting.
