READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 266
Even if it’s called adult shopping, it’s just a meal.
But since we came all the way to Japan, shouldn’t we try authentic sushi? So, our dinner was quickly decided to be sushi.
Among them, a conveyor belt sushi place I went to with Siyeon a couple of times.
I wonder how authentic conveyor belt sushi in Japan is…
“XXXXX XXXXXX XX.”
“Hi, hi.”
The friend who’s most active in Japanese communication stepped up, pretending to understand with clumsy Japanese, responding to the clerk’s guidance.
I can’t understand a thing, but surprisingly, are they good at Japanese?
Maybe I wasn’t the only one thinking that, as another friend spoke up after the clerk left.
“What did they say?”
“No idea? I just responded.”
“Crazy girl.”
Turns out, they were just casually replying.
That friend also didn’t understand what was being said.
But when in a group, humans tend to get braver.
Just going with the flow, picking up sushi plates moving on the rail.
“Just eat well and pay properly, right!”
“Yeah, sure-”
Following the friend’s simple conclusion, reaching out to the rail.
After all, what’s so special about a restaurant?
Order, eat, pay.
That’s all there is to it, universally.
Perhaps because Korean tourists frequent the place, even the touchpad on the table supports Korean.
It felt like seeing a new game everyone’s talking about supporting Korean translation.
Besides the sushi going round and round on the rail, a pad to order separately.
Among the menus in the rough Korean translation, there were not just sushi but also tempura and desserts.
Showing off wealth, ordering whatever we wanted without thinking about the price.
[Thank you for your order.]
[Your ordered items will be placed on the order tray and delivered to your table via the automatic conveyor lane.]
[Touching the screen returns you to the menu screen.]
Seeing the tall sushi plate on the pad screen, it seems like it comes separately in such a tall plate.
With one order, the 2000 yen for the free seating easily flew away.
A friend tapping my arm, surprised.
“Hey, it’s over 2000 yen?”
“I brought extra money to spend.”
After all, it’s sushi we came all the way here to try.
Feeling it’s a waste to only spend within the limited budget, I casually mentioned using the extra money I brought, and the friends’ eyes changed.
Like they hadn’t thought of that, the look of followers.
“Should I do that too?”
“Let’s do it, we came all the way to Japan!”
Before we knew it, a consensus formed at the table to add our own pocket money to eat.
I’m fine since I exchanged plenty, but are you guys okay?
Among the low plates going around the rail, a tall plate appeared, presumably someone’s order.
In the poorly translated English, it said ‘seared salmon belly with cheese,’ so the combination of salmon and cheese must be mine.
A whopping 580 yen for two pieces of salmon.
Tapping on the smartphone translator, it translated to ‘grilled salmon belly with cheese.’
Taking a bite of the long salmon with melted cheese.
The flaky salmon meat and gooey cheese.
Thinking 3000 won disappears in one bite, I wondered if it was worth it…
But once it was in my mouth, such complaints melted away like the cheese.
Being in such a place made the meal feel even more delicious.
After the enjoyable meal, it was time to pay.
“How should we pay?”
“Can we take the plates separately and pay individually…?”
Confused, high school girls unfamiliar with paying at a conveyor belt sushi place.
Even worse, all four of us spent over 2000 yen, making pooling money to pay a headache.
Here, we decided to handle it like adults.
“Everyone give 2000 yen.”
At the request for 2000 yen each, the friends hesitated but handed over the bills.
Taking a few more bills from my wallet, heading straight to the counter.
The person at the counter says how much yen, but no words needed, just a cash clash.
Receiving the change with a clink, coolly leaving the store.
“Yay-”
“Wow, Mari’s style is insane.”
The admiration from the three behind me.
Money was always right.
After a satisfying dinner, heading to the promised meeting spot.
Confirming all students were gathered, we huddled together and boarded the bus to the hotel.
The teacher, leaning into the aisle from the front seat, loudly announced to all students on the bus.
“We’re heading to the accommodation now? After that, there’s no schedule, just free time, but since there are other guests, don’t be too noisy.”
“Yes-”
The bland responses from the students full from dinner…
Matching the mood outside the dark window, a rather drowsy yawn was about to escape.
As the teacher said, after that, there was no set schedule, just free time at the hotel.
Rooms were shared, two per room.
The assignment was mercilessly tied to the class president and vice-president, not the friends we usually hang out with.
“Tra la la, tra la la la-♪”
“Oh, not bad?”
Even the studious class president was quite high-spirited today.
The background music you’d expect when opening a vacation home on a TV show.
Such background music carefully laid out by Seong-a, opening the accommodation room.
One bathroom, one room serving as both bedroom and living room.
Two beds taking up half the room, a cramped space but…
The unfamiliar night scene through thin curtains, neatly spread blankets promising a comfortable rest.
Perhaps soaked in the travel atmosphere the hotel provided, it didn’t matter.
After checking out the room, gathering with the friends to enjoy free time, heading to the convenience store.
Some friends messing around in others’ rooms, saying they’ll vlog, being annoying.
“What are you even filming?”
“We’re going to the convenience store, wanna come?”
Friend of a friend, and that friend’s friend.
The convenience store trip planned for four turned into a crowd of eight, heading down the night road to the store.
The number 7, quite familiar from Korean convenience stores.
A parking lot right in front of the store entrance, a scene often seen in manga-style drawings.
Entering the brightly lit convenience store from the dark street.
“Irrasshaimase-”
The part-timer’s warm, native-accented welcome.
So that’s not just for the 7 entrance barrier.
Passing by the indifferent part-timer, the friends rush to the dessert corner.
No surprise, girls looking for sweet stuff first.
Stepping away from the sweet-smelling crowd, I first check out the bread, cup noodles, and the refrigerated section.
True to the sushi country’s reputation, the inari sushi placed with the lunch boxes was impressive.
Also, sandwiches bulging as if about to burst their packaging.
Not exaggerating… eating two would probably fill you up quite a bit.
Wish Korean convenience stores were like this.
Filling the basket with various cup noodles, snacks, and bread.
“Manga pudding, manga pudding.”
A pudding shaped like a trapezoidal cylinder, straight out of a manga.
A thin layer of black caramel on top, with a thick yellow cream layer below.
Manga characters eat this so deliciously, raising expectations.
Then, there are products with characters that seem completely unrelated.
A drink label with a young girl character holding a magic wand.
“What’s this?”
“Ah! That’s that person’s character, a Japanese magical girl.”
“Ah, right… Pink, was it?”
“Ooh, majamaja.”
Conversations progressing without my participation.
Japanese magical girl, Pink.
Mention of someone remembered from the Arctic, peeking into someone else’s basket to check out the drink label.
The voluminous pink twin tails were quite similar, but with so many characters of that design in Japan, it was hard to tell.
‘Looks similar… or maybe not.’
Perhaps, the character design must differ slightly from the real thing.
Having seen the real thing before the character, my head tilted in confusion.
On the topic of magical girls that came up, the gathered friends continued the conversation.
“But isn’t this person over 30?”
“Yeah, hasn’t she retired yet?”
“Ah- I wish I could be a magical girl too.”
“Crazy, no.”
“If you became a magical girl, you’d probably lose to a monster right away.”
From Pink’s age to the vague hope of becoming a magical girl.
Honestly, it’s not an easy job, but ordinary students wouldn’t know the hardships of magical girls.
Surely, they couldn’t imagine one was right beside them.
Finishing the convenience store shopping and returning to the accommodation, a wild convenience store dessert mukbang with 6-8 people in a 2-person room.
Sharing without caring whose is whose, eating small portions alone.
After the calorie-worrying late-night snack, the noisy mafia game of high school girls began.
“Night has fallen… Mafia, please raise your heads.”
The role I took, not wanting to participate directly, was the moderator.
Why not play the game directly?
Because knowing everything and assigning roles is the most fun.
Watching the designated mafia act smug during the day as a citizen, and at night, smirking while deciding who to kill, is enjoyable.
Thus, the mafia successfully assassinated.
Placing a hand on the shoulder of the friend assassinated last night, calmly announcing the death.
“You’re dead.”
“Ah, damn it, I told you to protect me! What’s the doctor doing!”
“Hyeji, cut cut!”
The first day of the school trip was spent in such a noisy manner.