Austin finished his third beer and was just about ready to order some food when his rental lease on the first beer expired. He waved the server over and ordered a bowl of chili and then found his way to the rest room. As he finished up, he noticed the sounds of a rukus in the bar. He stepped out just as the fight ended. Austin checked his handcomp to see if any of the fighters had any bounties on them but before he was finished, the police showed up and put an end to the possibility of easy money.
He had to wait a little while before his chili came; the staff at the bar had to clean up the mess. It was worth the wait, though. The chili wasn't quite as good as he'd find on Houston but it was close. Austin savored it as if it were the best chili he'd ever eaten. On the runs he'd been doing lately, chili was pretty rare and what chili he did find (usually) was so bland and tasteless he could barely choke it down. It hadn't taken him long to realize that it was better to stick with local dishes. You could usually trust the locals to cook their own food right. The only trick, however, was finding something you actually liked. There was almost always something if you looked. His theory was almost proven wrong in Kusari, though. Just the thought of raw fish was stomach-churning but eventually he began to find dishes he enjoyed. "The trick in Kusari," Austin thought to himself, "is wasabi." Lots and lots of wasabi. With enough wasabi, just about anything could be edible.
The chili and beer left Austin feeling mellow. He decided to wander up to the bar and see if any interesting conversations cropped up.
