Day 2

Ta-ling~
Upon the melodic peal reverberating from above the door throughout the impossibly tidy and posh locale, the catgirls in french maid outfits curiously peered out from behind the counter, from under the table and even dangling from the chandelier.

Upon spotting the visitors, the nekos' expressions glowed with excitement as they jumped out from behind their hiding places and towards their guests, scrambling towards them with blinding speed. They landed before the trio, arranging themselves quickly like a plutoon up for inspections. One of them held a silver tray against her chest, while another held a clipboard and pencil.

"Nyaa~!" The catgirls in maid outfits sang out adorably in chorus as the both of them entered, "Welcome, honoured master! Welcome to the Neko Maid Cafe!"
A neko-maid with short red hair bounced into Thomas's space, "Please come with us, master! Enjoy your stay! And if there is anything you want from us..."
"Anything at all...!" A shorter, more slender neko with black hair tied in a ponytail interjected.
"...Then don't hesitate to say! Nyaa~!" A catgirl with long turquoise hair beamed with a wink winked.

Thomas turned his head left and right in a futile attempt to keep up with these charming nekos, "Ah, why thank you ladies! Most kind."
One of the taller, blonde neko maids had managed to slip behind him.
"Right this way, master~! Nyaa~!" She hooked her paw under his arm, leading the bewildered and enchanted old sailor away towards the tables.

No matter where Thomas looked, the decor of the establishment was dominated by the three colours constituting the main theme of the cafe; black, white and hot pink. The hot pink in the flowers hanging from the ceiling, and protruding from white vases in fluffy bouquets, as well as the odd ribbon fastened mainly over soft things, served to colour the cafe the same whimsical charm associated with the catgirls. The sleek black of the tile floor and the wirey furniture, served to imbue a distinct and atmospheric style, as calming as it was smoothly elegant. The shimmering white of the cushions, the pink blossom peppered wallpaper and tablecloth, and the various clawywork and candelabra, was used to contrast and complement either colour, uniting their motifs into a single welcoming landscape.
Even the smallest stool looked like it would be worth half his pension.

Thomas did feel grateful that Ofelia and Simon brought him to such a pleasant cafe, yet he couldn't help but feel out of place. Normally he would find himself either invited to humble household of the friends of his friends or relatives of his friends, or in a shady pub where poor sailors and dockworkers would gather to down their stale and warm ale served from a portly old bartender while barely conscious. But suddenly he found himself in a cafe fit for nobility of the city, being offered service and a table before they even knew he was inside, and the smiles of the waitresses shone with a joy that melted Thomas's face. Soothing violin played ambiently in the background, but Thomas couldn't spot anyone playing violin anywhere. Indeed he could not even determine which direction the music came from. This didn't surprize him though. Ever since he arrived in the Demon Realm, which is replete with magic users, he quickly grew tired of becoming confused the moment he encountered something he did not understand. He kept being curious about it though, how the magecraft works and why. Eventually his onslaught of questions lead Ofelia to start teaching him all about magecraft.

The blonde catgirls removed a chair from in front of table to which she guided them, so that Ofelia could wheel Simon there. Next the succubus seated herself next to him, followed by Thomas sitting next to her.
The red-haired catgirl pushed a large, folded piece of paper into the hands of each guest, who accepted them out of reflex more than anything else. The catgirl hid her paws behind her back as the feline tail of fiery orange behind her swatting erratically back and forth.
"Here you go, Nyaa~! I'll let you have a moment for yourself to make up your minds! If you need me for anything I'm just a ring away!" The catgirl batted the brass bell hanging from the collar around her neck. She winked at them with a glowing smile, turning around to leave them be. Her tail swatted back and forth along the way, yet elegantly evaded anything it passed that could be in its way as if it had a mind of its own it.

The table was adorned with laced tablecloth with flowery patterns embroidered on it. At the center of it, along with a diningbell for service, was a black wickerbasket adorned with a pink ribbon, containing an assortment of neat looking cookies placed on a light blue napkin folded inside.
Thomas buried his face into the menu, so as to hide the fact that he was the closest thing in that establishment which resembled a smudge of filth. Any moment he expected himself dragged out the moment someone realised he so obviously did not belong there.
All this time Thomas felt as if walking on eggshells. He was terrified that his touch alone would forever defile that which was too glorious for his humble presence.

Ofelia glanced towards Thomas, giving him a comforting smile, "Thomas... It's all right. When you're with us you've got no reason to worry. You can just relax. Be yourself."
Thomas's eyes peeked from above the menu, blinking confused.
"Who? Me? The what now?" He chuckled, "Ofelia, please... I'm the last person that needs to be reminded of that. Why, I'm the only person I know how to be! And forgive an old sailor his audaciousness, but if I oh so obviously don't belong here, they're free to ask me to leave. Nothing worse than that."
"Are you sure, Thomas? You do look a little stiff there." Ofelia pointed out.
"Well... I suppose..." Thomas cleared his throat, "I did forget to stretch after training.... But since you did bring it up, I suppose I should point out that I'm but a poor retired sailor. Now, if the both of you could be so kind as to treat me just this once I'd be most grateful, but otherwise we probably should take our business elsewhere."
"Thomas..." Ofelia smiles, "You saved our lives. You helped us start anew together. We will never be able to repay you. Not in a hundred years would we let you pay from your own pocket. But of course..."
Ofelia lowered her head as her eyes closed, pressing her open palms together, "I myself am but a humble nun who has dedicated her life to the Fallen God, devoting her time on this world to forwarding Her message of depravity and unapologetic delight of the flesh. Any wealth I may once have had, I have bequethed to her temple when I took my vow, and as such I myself am in no position to offer anything of earthly values."

The eyes of Ofelia and Thomas fell on the crippled young knight. He sighed as an amused smile grew on his face, "...It'll be my treat this time I suppose. Not like I'm gonna go broke any time soon anyway."
"I didn't know you were loaded!" Thomas said, as Simon shrugged with a self-satisfied grin, "Monster slaying really pays that well?"
"I suppose it does," Simon chuckled, "The same people the Order of the Chief God is after are also the ones the nobles seek as their vassals. Anyone who would turn down such opportunities would have to do so for a reason. Besides, each slayer is expected to pay for their own equipment and expenses, so if our wages don't cover that then we won't be able to do our job."
Thomas whistled impressed, "Monster slayers really are the super-stars of adventurers! My, I can't imagine how difficult it must've been to quit just like that!"
Simon's smile melted away, "...I didn't do it for the fame or money, Thomas. I did it so I could be the champion of justice I always wanted to be. To fight for justice and protect the weak. Besides, I took the liberty of acquiring a small retirement fund from the Church before we left."

Ofelia dumped a satchel on the table, out of which spilled an assortment of trinkets and jewelry, forged out of the purest gold and silver.
Looking down at the contents of the bag, Thomas's face drained of all colour, "You... You can't mean that you stole!? From the Church!? Wait, wait! Certainly you do not expect me to accept gifts bought with stolen goods?"
Ofelia raised her index finger before her lips, shushing as her eyes shifted left and right, "Feel free then to pay for the service yourself... But Thomas, you're free to think of our actions how you wish. But first I want you to know this wasn't done out of greed. Each of this is a relic over which prospective monster slayers must swear a sacred oath, dedicating themselves to the Chief God. In other words, the slaying will never end as long as they're in the hands of the Church. We did this to save lives."
Thomas harumphed, "Be that as it may, do you really have to trade them away like common barley?"
"Would you rather they served no purpose at all?" Simon asked, "Thomas, I didn't like stealing from the church. Just like how I didn't like betraying my allies, or break my oath. But I could not stand idly by when I realised the Order stood for everything I did not. Something needs to change. This was the answer I found. We will give these to the Dark Temple in exchange for their bounties. They will come to their best possible use there, and we will be able to use the funds to support ourselves. Now, will you please calm down?"

Thomas looked between the both of them with a scowl of judgementalness, but also contemplation, "...Fine. But on one condition. Can I take a look at them?"
Ofelia couldn't help but laugh, "But of course. Just be careful, will you?"
She pushed the bag over to Thomas, who went over the content with the gleeful smile of a child.

Once bored of the gilded artefacts, Thomas handed the satchel back to Ofelia who put it away. Soon afte they were greeted by their catgirl waitress.
"Have you all decided on what you want to order yet, nyaa~?" The catgirl said as she picked a quill from behind her ear and pointed it towards the notepad in her paw.

Thomas had no idea at all what to order. Every item on the menu was written in a language apparently made specifically to confuse him, and the pictures accompanying them were so alien to him they might as well have come from the other side of the Mist. He had no idea how to even pronounce the names of the desserts, much less divine what he could conceivably enjoy.
For situations just like these he had a trick up his sleeve. He folded the menu, placing it flat on the table as he looked up at the waitress, greeting him with the most adoring smile.
"I'll have what he is having." Thomas said as he gestured towards Simon.

Sometimes he wondered if his shrewdness knew any bounds.