Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
The horse pulling the wagon swished its tail, as though telling them to take it elsewhere.
"We still have a heap of things to deal with, though. Don't be pouty if I can't entertain you in town."
"I am not unreasonable, like Myuri."
Their daughter Myuri's unreasonable nature suited her, but Lawrence believed that part of her personality came from Holo.
Lawrence looked at her with the same look as before, and she stomped on his foot again. This time, it was stronger.
"Hmph. 'Tis not even all that much. Sell the goods in the back, buy things for the village, and then look for workers."
"Just looking for workers might take a while...And there's still more."
"Hmm?"
She gazed at him doubtfully in response. She was likely checking to see if his head was filled with schemes to turn a quick profit. On their journey over ten years ago, that was often the source of all their biggest, rowdiest adventures.
"The whole town is busy preparing for the festival. It's a custom for Nyohhira to help with the preparations in exchange for the town's money changer association buying all the village's goods at once. So I'll probably be busy with that during the festival."
"Hmm."
Nyohhira was wholly reliant on Svernel for the distribution of their goods, so it was a give-and-take relationship.
"So what will you help with during the festival?"
"I don't know all the details...but I'm sure there are several jobs. I've heard that it's been quite a lively festival these past few years."
"I know that. 'Tis why I wished to see it with you..."
Holo spoke dejectedly. She was craftily letting her adorably true feelings show.
"And this time, there's one more important job."
Holo, who had her lips pursed in boredom, looked up expectantly.
"I have to find out more about the people who might be building a new hot spring town on the other side of the mountain."
That was the most shocking information that spread this winter in Nyohhira.
He knew nothing about the details, but traveling merchants told the village about this rumor.
Though it would be on the other mountainside, most roads in this area led to Svernel, so they would end up fighting over customers. And of course, they would likely get their food, drink, and other necessities from Svernel, so prices would rise accordingly.
He had to confirm whether the rumors were true or not.
"So I'm going to be very busy in town."
As Lawrence declared his intentions, Holo hunched over, resting her chin in her hand and sighing.
"At the very least, don't trip as you run around so much."
"What, you're not going to help? It might spell danger for our bathhouse and Nyohhira itself."
The villagers saw Lawrence as one of their own, since they entrusted him with bringing the coins down to town during this season, and he was so overjoyed, he became overeager. He spoke pointedly, and Holo looked at him with uncertain eyes.
"Well then, shall I discover where they are digging holes for their baths, then cover them up, burying those people with it?"
When Holo spoke, Lawrence flinched. Sitting there was the wolf's avatar, a being that held more power than humans knew.
Holo once again sighed at Lawrence's response and reached out to pinch his beard.
"You, still, cannot, forget, playing, the, merchant, prince, still? Hmm?"
"Ow, stop, ouch, hey—"
She pulled his beard, moving his face side to side.
"Hmph. Whoever they may be, we shall always be ready, making our guests happy as we always do. Should that be enough, they will come. If not, then they will go there. Is that not correct?"
She let go of his beard, and Lawrence looked at her again, rubbing his chin.
The centuries-old wisewolf had appeared.
"Well, that's true..."
"Very well, then."
Her mood completely changed, and she drew close to Lawrence.
"Once the bathhouse empties out, won't you spend more time with me? Our troublesome Myuri has left on her travels, you know."
***
There was a sweet seduction that accompanied her decadent invitation.

Output:
"It's not just our problem. It's the whole village's problem."
He spoke as though confirming it to himself, and Holo cackled, spotting his weak restraint.
"Well, we have no intentions to lay waste to our own territory. We shall find who it is that challenges us. That path will build competition between us."
Holo was worth the help of a hundred people.
Lawrence gently adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and said, "I'm counting on you."
In the three days it took to descend the mountain, the snow began to melt and it became much muddier. Because of that, there were many times when the wagon wheels got stuck and they were unable to move, but passing travelers helped them, and they finally made it to Svernel during an afternoon.
"Hmm...I've become a muddy rat."
Holo sat on the wagon and spoke disdainfully, examining her deerskin boots, thin wool trousers, and the woolen hem around her waist. As though she had anticipated it getting dirty, she stuffed the bushy tail growing from her behind into a special cloth bag like so many grapes.
But Lawrence, standing next to Holo—who much like a princess, tended to mind even the smallest hint of dirt on her clothes—was in a worse state. He had gotten out and pushed the wagon many times as it had floundered in the mud, so he was stained from head to toe, to the point where dried mud fell from his hair in flakes when he shook his head.
"I want to take a bath as soon as I can..."
"I, too, wish to care for my tail."
Lawrence asked himself whether he was doting on Holo a bit too much.
Then, after the soldiers guarding the city walls pitied the pair for their sorry state, they entered the town of Svernel.
There was still some snow here and there in town, and the streets were muddy. Of course, the wheels did not get stuck this time, but there were so many people and mud splashed everywhere, so everyone walking around had mud up to their knees. No one seemed to mind, since it was the time of year when there was no use worrying about it.
Holo watched all this, and her expression suggested she would not dare leave the driver's perch, as she cradled her pride, the beautiful tail stuffed in the bag.
"Okay...For now, we need to go to the money changers' association, but I hope we can get there all right."
It had been several years since he was last here, and the town had quickly developed and was rather different. Business was booming here, and Svernel grew. A new city wall encircled the old one that had protected the town when they first visited over ten years ago. And there were plans to build an even bigger wall. Gaudy mansions lined some paths, and street stalls stood packed together on the large avenues.
Lawrence had some trouble controlling the horse in the crowds, and when they finally reached the money changers' association with uneasy movements, he was covered in sweat. Holo, still on the perch, did not seem to understand why he was so sweaty as she handed him a handkerchief.
He wiped his face and did his best to at least clean off the mud from his clothes. Currency exchange was the center of the economy, and its practitioners held esteemed places in every town. The association building here, too, was an impressive five stories tall. Lawrence cleared his throat and worked up his courage, so as to not be overwhelmed by its presence, then called out through the door.
"Excuse me!"
But there was no answer, and no response even when he knocked on the door. With no other choice, he opened the door and peeked inside, when a humid heat wafted into his face. It was busier inside than the bustling streets outside, and the money changers, who all seemed to have gathered from throughout the town, were clinging to desks stuffed into the hall. They all fixed their attention on the scales, as though taking part in some sort of ritual, and were writing things down. Lawrence recognized that the hard smell was one he had just experienced a scant few days ago—the smell of many coins.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"It's not just our problem. It's the whole village's problem."
He spoke as though confirming it to himself, and Holo cackled, spotting his weak restraint.
"Well, we have no intentions to lay waste to our own territory. We shall find who it is that challenges us. That path will build competition between us."
Holo was worth the help of a hundred people.
Lawrence gently adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and said, "I'm counting on you."
In the three days it took to descend the mountain, the snow began to melt and it became much muddier. Because of that, there were many times when the wagon wheels got stuck and they were unable to move, but passing travelers helped them, and they finally made it to Svernel during an afternoon.
"Hmm...I've become a muddy rat."
Holo sat on the wagon and spoke disdainfully, examining her deerskin boots, thin wool trousers, and the woolen hem around her waist. As though she had anticipated it getting dirty, she stuffed the bushy tail growing from her behind into a special cloth bag like so many grapes.
But Lawrence, standing next to Holo—who much like a princess, tended to mind even the smallest hint of dirt on her clothes—was in a worse state. He had gotten out and pushed the wagon many times as it had floundered in the mud, so he was stained from head to toe, to the point where dried mud fell from his hair in flakes when he shook his head.
"I want to take a bath as soon as I can..."
"I, too, wish to care for my tail."
Lawrence asked himself whether he was doting on Holo a bit too much.
Then, after the soldiers guarding the city walls pitied the pair for their sorry state, they entered the town of Svernel.
There was still some snow here and there in town, and the streets were muddy. Of course, the wheels did not get stuck this time, but there were so many people and mud splashed everywhere, so everyone walking around had mud up to their knees. No one seemed to mind, since it was the time of year when there was no use worrying about it.
Holo watched all this, and her expression suggested she would not dare leave the driver's perch, as she cradled her pride, the beautiful tail stuffed in the bag.
"Okay...For now, we need to go to the money changers' association, but I hope we can get there all right."
It had been several years since he was last here, and the town had quickly developed and was rather different. Business was booming here, and Svernel grew. A new city wall encircled the old one that had protected the town when they first visited over ten years ago. And there were plans to build an even bigger wall. Gaudy mansions lined some paths, and street stalls stood packed together on the large avenues.
Lawrence had some trouble controlling the horse in the crowds, and when they finally reached the money changers' association with uneasy movements, he was covered in sweat. Holo, still on the perch, did not seem to understand why he was so sweaty as she handed him a handkerchief.
He wiped his face and did his best to at least clean off the mud from his clothes. Currency exchange was the center of the economy, and its practitioners held esteemed places in every town. The association building here, too, was an impressive five stories tall. Lawrence cleared his throat and worked up his courage, so as to not be overwhelmed by its presence, then called out through the door.
"Excuse me!"
But there was no answer, and no response even when he knocked on the door. With no other choice, he opened the door and peeked inside, when a humid heat wafted into his face. It was busier inside than the bustling streets outside, and the money changers, who all seemed to have gathered from throughout the town, were clinging to desks stuffed into the hall. They all fixed their attention on the scales, as though taking part in some sort of ritual, and were writing things down. Lawrence recognized that the hard smell was one he had just experienced a scant few days ago—the smell of many coins.

Output:
"This isn't the inn! That's the next area over!"
The old man likely knew immediately that he was a traveler from outside the walls when he saw Lawrence's appearance.
"No, I've come from Nyohhira! I've brought goods!"
After Lawrence spoke, the atmosphere suddenly changed.
Everyone looked as though they had seen food for the first time in three days.
"Nyohhira?! He said Nyohhira!"
"The coins! Have you brought the coins?!"
"Where are they? Bring them in now! Do you have bronze jinie pieces? Give us everything you have!"
"Bring silver debau here! No, any silver piece will do! Our exchange might collapse at any moment!"
Just as he was almost swallowed up by the sea of pushy money changers, there came an iron pot's deafening clatter.
"Calm down! We will distribute coins as agreed!"
He heard the voice emanating from the farthest place inside the first-floor hall, a step above everyone else. There was a rotund, elderly money changer, who had a magnificent white beard that reached his chest.
"First, show our guest some hospitality! Our association's reputation depends on this!"
He was likely the president of their organization, and when he spoke, the ghastly money changers hesitantly returned to their places. Instead, a youth who appeared to be the chore boy approached him unsteadily. He was clearly sleep-deprived, and his fingers were coated black from handling too many coins.
He shook his head lightly, and it seemed as though numbers would fall out of his ears.
"C-come this way, please..."
He spoke uncomfortably, as though he had not spoken for a long time or he had talked too much and his voice had gone hoarse, and unsteadily led Lawrence outside. Had his breath not produced white clouds, it would have been easy to think he was dead.
The boy walked alongside the building for a bit, then used his entire weight to open a large, grated door. There, carved out from some building's first floor, was a large passageway that led to a courtyard.
Prompted by his guide, Lawrence brought in his wagon and found himself relieved by the firm sensation the stones provided under his feet. The right-hand side of the passageway connected to the hall where he encountered the busy associates from earlier, and it was evidently built for unloading goods. Since this was a place with lots of snow, it was designed so that they could receive aristocrats or exchange goods without them getting dirty here.
Before long, the door connecting to the hall opened, and out came the elderly money changer who had yelled earlier, with an attendant in tow. The boy called him "president," so he was indeed the money changers' association leader.
"Well then, apologies for earlier. Everyone's been working all day and night, and some are going crazy."
"With the town this busy, that's something I can understand."
Above them, there was an elevated footbridge, and from the dim passage he could clearly see the endless flow of jam-packed people.
No matter how many coins he tossed to them, they would swallow them right up.
"I don't mind how the town grows every year, but we can only handle so much activity. But I'm really glad you came when you did. The coins are gone from the money changer's vault—it's like a bakery without bread."
Of course, I've come aiming exactly for this time, was something he should keep quiet about to maintain their amicable relationship.
"And as with every year, you wouldn't mind if we hold on to goods besides the coins, yes?"
"Yes, I know it's such a busy time for you, but..."
"Ha-ha-ha. In return, we'll have you working hard during the festival! And this year, they've sent quite a young fellow! How reassuring!"
The president patted Lawrence's shoulders as he spoke, his hands sturdy enough to bend a thin coin. On his fingertips lay a money changer's years of experience dealing with various currencies.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"This isn't the inn! That's the next area over!"
The old man likely knew immediately that he was a traveler from outside the walls when he saw Lawrence's appearance.
"No, I've come from Nyohhira! I've brought goods!"
After Lawrence spoke, the atmosphere suddenly changed.
Everyone looked as though they had seen food for the first time in three days.
"Nyohhira?! He said Nyohhira!"
"The coins! Have you brought the coins?!"
"Where are they? Bring them in now! Do you have bronze jinie pieces? Give us everything you have!"
"Bring silver debau here! No, any silver piece will do! Our exchange might collapse at any moment!"
Just as he was almost swallowed up by the sea of pushy money changers, there came an iron pot's deafening clatter.
"Calm down! We will distribute coins as agreed!"
He heard the voice emanating from the farthest place inside the first-floor hall, a step above everyone else. There was a rotund, elderly money changer, who had a magnificent white beard that reached his chest.
"First, show our guest some hospitality! Our association's reputation depends on this!"
He was likely the president of their organization, and when he spoke, the ghastly money changers hesitantly returned to their places. Instead, a youth who appeared to be the chore boy approached him unsteadily. He was clearly sleep-deprived, and his fingers were coated black from handling too many coins.
He shook his head lightly, and it seemed as though numbers would fall out of his ears.
"C-come this way, please..."
He spoke uncomfortably, as though he had not spoken for a long time or he had talked too much and his voice had gone hoarse, and unsteadily led Lawrence outside. Had his breath not produced white clouds, it would have been easy to think he was dead.
The boy walked alongside the building for a bit, then used his entire weight to open a large, grated door. There, carved out from some building's first floor, was a large passageway that led to a courtyard.
Prompted by his guide, Lawrence brought in his wagon and found himself relieved by the firm sensation the stones provided under his feet. The right-hand side of the passageway connected to the hall where he encountered the busy associates from earlier, and it was evidently built for unloading goods. Since this was a place with lots of snow, it was designed so that they could receive aristocrats or exchange goods without them getting dirty here.
Before long, the door connecting to the hall opened, and out came the elderly money changer who had yelled earlier, with an attendant in tow. The boy called him "president," so he was indeed the money changers' association leader.
"Well then, apologies for earlier. Everyone's been working all day and night, and some are going crazy."
"With the town this busy, that's something I can understand."
Above them, there was an elevated footbridge, and from the dim passage he could clearly see the endless flow of jam-packed people.
No matter how many coins he tossed to them, they would swallow them right up.
"I don't mind how the town grows every year, but we can only handle so much activity. But I'm really glad you came when you did. The coins are gone from the money changer's vault—it's like a bakery without bread."
Of course, I've come aiming exactly for this time, was something he should keep quiet about to maintain their amicable relationship.
"And as with every year, you wouldn't mind if we hold on to goods besides the coins, yes?"
"Yes, I know it's such a busy time for you, but..."
"Ha-ha-ha. In return, we'll have you working hard during the festival! And this year, they've sent quite a young fellow! How reassuring!"
The president patted Lawrence's shoulders as he spoke, his hands sturdy enough to bend a thin coin. On his fingertips lay a money changer's years of experience dealing with various currencies.

Output:
The president gave a loud laugh. Lawrence respectfully accepted the gracious offer.
"Tell the boy to picket the horse in the courtyard. We have a room ready for you, so feel free."
Everything had been taken care of. Though for a moment, Lawrence hesitated entering the association building with muddy shoes. Quietly peeking into the hallway, he could see a muddy dog and roaming chickens milling about, so he was relieved. Though the animals likely came in following the heat, they were also after the leftovers that the money changers left behind as they worked. When Holo passed them, the dog crouched in surprise and fluffed up his tail.
Lawrence and Holo were led to a beautiful room on the second floor. The furniture was exquisite, and the association's wealth was ostentatiously on display. Opening the wooden window and scanning the street below, he could see how tightly packed the crowds were and wondered how he managed to weave the wagon through the gaps.
It was busy, it was chaotic, and it was filled with life.
"This is going to be a fun stay," Lawrence murmured and breathed in the town air.
Lawrence received plenty of hot water for a bath, and after washing off the mud, he finally felt revived. His clothes were also muddy, but all he could do was wash his coat and dry it on the stove before he slept. For now, he brushed off what mud he could, and a nostalgic smile grew on his face.
"Is something funny?"
Holo, gazing out the window, had noticed and turned around to face him.
"Well, I remember when I was a fledgling merchant, I brushed off fleas or lice or something like this once."
Holo suddenly made a disgusted face and hid her bushy tail behind her.
"Refrain from coming near me."
"It was a long time ago."
He tried to reassure her, but Holo did not change her doubtful face and looked away in a huff.
Then, she leaned against the window frame and stared outside reproachfully.
As Lawrence thought about what an oddly bad mood she was in, she groaned.
That was when he finally realized...
"If you want to catch a rabbit, you have to stick your hand into the rabbit hole, even if it means crawling on the ground."
She wanted to go shopping among the crowded stalls, but she did not want to get muddy while doing it.
Every day, she combed out her beautiful tail, arranging how the hair lay, and oiled it to a glossy sheen.
She turned to Lawrence slowly, her reddish eyes watering, looking up toward him.
"...You want me to buy things for you? But I just cleaned myself..."
Holo's face suddenly brightened. Lawrence thought himself wretched for being so easily moved by her acting. He shook his head and steeled himself.
"You've been a bit too lazy ever since Myuri left."
The other bathhouse owners lamented that their cute wives transformed once they had children, but Holo did not change much. At best, one could say there were quite a few times where she maintained her dignity as a wolf around Myuri.
But now, even her mending was completely falling apart.
"Even though, when I first met you, you had a maiden's heart and wished to keep our relationship simple..."
His wife spoke, hugging her tail and hiding her mouth, with a sad expression on her face.
Lawrence put his hand to his forehead and covered his eyes, since her move was so effective.
It was long ago that he was afraid he would grow bored of his relationship with Holo as the months and years passed. As he got older, he felt as though he was growing more susceptible to Holo's wiles. Though his daughter Myuri was cuter, Holo was different and knew all the ways she could push him into submission.
He sighed and gazed out the window, standing next to her.
"So? Which stall do you want me to go to?"
Holo beamed and took Lawrence's arm. She wagged her tail and leaned out the window.
"Mm, there is fried lamprey, and rabbit stew, and a pie shop that uses plenty of pig fat, then, over there—"
He gazed at her from the side as she talked happily and did not bother to listen.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
The president gave a loud laugh. Lawrence respectfully accepted the gracious offer.
"Tell the boy to picket the horse in the courtyard. We have a room ready for you, so feel free."
Everything had been taken care of. Though for a moment, Lawrence hesitated entering the association building with muddy shoes. Quietly peeking into the hallway, he could see a muddy dog and roaming chickens milling about, so he was relieved. Though the animals likely came in following the heat, they were also after the leftovers that the money changers left behind as they worked. When Holo passed them, the dog crouched in surprise and fluffed up his tail.
Lawrence and Holo were led to a beautiful room on the second floor. The furniture was exquisite, and the association's wealth was ostentatiously on display. Opening the wooden window and scanning the street below, he could see how tightly packed the crowds were and wondered how he managed to weave the wagon through the gaps.
It was busy, it was chaotic, and it was filled with life.
"This is going to be a fun stay," Lawrence murmured and breathed in the town air.
Lawrence received plenty of hot water for a bath, and after washing off the mud, he finally felt revived. His clothes were also muddy, but all he could do was wash his coat and dry it on the stove before he slept. For now, he brushed off what mud he could, and a nostalgic smile grew on his face.
"Is something funny?"
Holo, gazing out the window, had noticed and turned around to face him.
"Well, I remember when I was a fledgling merchant, I brushed off fleas or lice or something like this once."
Holo suddenly made a disgusted face and hid her bushy tail behind her.
"Refrain from coming near me."
"It was a long time ago."
He tried to reassure her, but Holo did not change her doubtful face and looked away in a huff.
Then, she leaned against the window frame and stared outside reproachfully.
As Lawrence thought about what an oddly bad mood she was in, she groaned.
That was when he finally realized...
"If you want to catch a rabbit, you have to stick your hand into the rabbit hole, even if it means crawling on the ground."
She wanted to go shopping among the crowded stalls, but she did not want to get muddy while doing it.
Every day, she combed out her beautiful tail, arranging how the hair lay, and oiled it to a glossy sheen.
She turned to Lawrence slowly, her reddish eyes watering, looking up toward him.
"...You want me to buy things for you? But I just cleaned myself..."
Holo's face suddenly brightened. Lawrence thought himself wretched for being so easily moved by her acting. He shook his head and steeled himself.
"You've been a bit too lazy ever since Myuri left."
The other bathhouse owners lamented that their cute wives transformed once they had children, but Holo did not change much. At best, one could say there were quite a few times where she maintained her dignity as a wolf around Myuri.
But now, even her mending was completely falling apart.
"Even though, when I first met you, you had a maiden's heart and wished to keep our relationship simple..."
His wife spoke, hugging her tail and hiding her mouth, with a sad expression on her face.
Lawrence put his hand to his forehead and covered his eyes, since her move was so effective.
It was long ago that he was afraid he would grow bored of his relationship with Holo as the months and years passed. As he got older, he felt as though he was growing more susceptible to Holo's wiles. Though his daughter Myuri was cuter, Holo was different and knew all the ways she could push him into submission.
He sighed and gazed out the window, standing next to her.
"So? Which stall do you want me to go to?"
Holo beamed and took Lawrence's arm. She wagged her tail and leaned out the window.
"Mm, there is fried lamprey, and rabbit stew, and a pie shop that uses plenty of pig fat, then, over there—"
He gazed at her from the side as she talked happily and did not bother to listen.

Output:
"Are you listening?!"
***
Fair words fill not the belly.
Like a trained dog, he looked to the shops that Holo pointed out and noted her orders.
Though Lawrence had many things to do in Svernel, Holo sent him on her errands. He did think it was for the best if she stayed in a good mood.
He exited their room and went down the stairs, taking the chickens that would not give way and guiding them into the hallway's corner. It was when he put his hand on the door of the passageway that led to the courtyard—
"Oh, are you going out?"
From the passage facing the workroom came the white-bearded president. He was wiping his hands with a handkerchief, so he must have been on break.
"Yes, we have not eaten yet, so I was planning on going out to buy something."
It was the courtesy for a traveler to prepare their own food when borrowing a room.
"Oh! In that case, would you like to join me? Let's send the boy to do the shopping."
Accepting offers of hospitality was courtesy as well. It would be much too brazen to order the things that Holo wished for at this point, so he remained silent. The association president seemed rather old, so it would likely end up being food that differed from Holo's preferences. He turned his thoughts to figuring out how he would convince Holo to bear with it, but his fears turned out to be groundless.
"Well then, don't hesitate and help yourselves! I'm sorry it's such a filthy place, though!"
The president led him and Holo into an inner room on the first floor, and it was likely a dining hall or meeting room for the association members most days. The room was filled with cargo, and the goods from Nyohhira were in there, too; this was just a portion of the goods that passed through the town in this season. Of course, the scale was incomparable to Nyohhira.
And atop the table was another mountain—a huge variety of oily foods.
"I'm sure you are tired from traveling during this time of year. And we want you to work hard preparing for the festival! Eat your fill as you please!"
The president's voice was rather loud. He may have been used to raising his voice in the workplace, but he was probably this energetic all the time. At any rate, there was a thick cut of smoked venison that had Holo's eyes sparkling, and she boldly stuck a knife into it and took a bite. Had Lawrence met her at an inn, he would have thought she was a bandit chief.
"Are you all right with ale to drink? We have wine, as well."
Since it was not possible to harvest grapes in cold areas, wine must have been an expensive import. Lawrence's former merchant nature kicked in and he tried to restrain Holo, but she luckily chose the cheaper ale. Of course, she was not being modest. She simply thought that ale was more suited to a table filled with greasy foods. Naturally, it did not seem as though she would restrain herself when it came to food.
"Ba-ha-ha-ha! That's a good way to eat!"
Holo garnished a boiled sausage, which was so stuffed with meat it seemed to be bursting, using plenty of mustard and bit into it. The only ones who would be complimented on their restraint would be the aristocratic ladies. Common folk had fewer standards of evaluation—eat well, drink well, and work well.
"But really, it is an honor as a money changer to sit and feast with you like this, Mr. Lawrence!"
"No, please."
Lawrence began to feel embarrassed, but something confused him.
He was going to finally introduce himself to the president, but instead Lawrence heard his name first.
"I'm sorry, have we met somewhere before?"
He would never forget so easily such a rotund, white-bearded money changer. Then, the association president bit into meat still on the bone and washed it down with ale before laughing.
"What are you talking about?! You are a hero to us money changers—nay, the patron saint of trade! And your wife has not changed a bit since then! I knew right away!"
Holo, who was spreading butter onto the fried lamprey, looked up as though she had been called.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Are you listening?!"
***
Fair words fill not the belly.
Like a trained dog, he looked to the shops that Holo pointed out and noted her orders.
Though Lawrence had many things to do in Svernel, Holo sent him on her errands. He did think it was for the best if she stayed in a good mood.
He exited their room and went down the stairs, taking the chickens that would not give way and guiding them into the hallway's corner. It was when he put his hand on the door of the passageway that led to the courtyard—
"Oh, are you going out?"
From the passage facing the workroom came the white-bearded president. He was wiping his hands with a handkerchief, so he must have been on break.
"Yes, we have not eaten yet, so I was planning on going out to buy something."
It was the courtesy for a traveler to prepare their own food when borrowing a room.
"Oh! In that case, would you like to join me? Let's send the boy to do the shopping."
Accepting offers of hospitality was courtesy as well. It would be much too brazen to order the things that Holo wished for at this point, so he remained silent. The association president seemed rather old, so it would likely end up being food that differed from Holo's preferences. He turned his thoughts to figuring out how he would convince Holo to bear with it, but his fears turned out to be groundless.
"Well then, don't hesitate and help yourselves! I'm sorry it's such a filthy place, though!"
The president led him and Holo into an inner room on the first floor, and it was likely a dining hall or meeting room for the association members most days. The room was filled with cargo, and the goods from Nyohhira were in there, too; this was just a portion of the goods that passed through the town in this season. Of course, the scale was incomparable to Nyohhira.
And atop the table was another mountain—a huge variety of oily foods.
"I'm sure you are tired from traveling during this time of year. And we want you to work hard preparing for the festival! Eat your fill as you please!"
The president's voice was rather loud. He may have been used to raising his voice in the workplace, but he was probably this energetic all the time. At any rate, there was a thick cut of smoked venison that had Holo's eyes sparkling, and she boldly stuck a knife into it and took a bite. Had Lawrence met her at an inn, he would have thought she was a bandit chief.
"Are you all right with ale to drink? We have wine, as well."
Since it was not possible to harvest grapes in cold areas, wine must have been an expensive import. Lawrence's former merchant nature kicked in and he tried to restrain Holo, but she luckily chose the cheaper ale. Of course, she was not being modest. She simply thought that ale was more suited to a table filled with greasy foods. Naturally, it did not seem as though she would restrain herself when it came to food.
"Ba-ha-ha-ha! That's a good way to eat!"
Holo garnished a boiled sausage, which was so stuffed with meat it seemed to be bursting, using plenty of mustard and bit into it. The only ones who would be complimented on their restraint would be the aristocratic ladies. Common folk had fewer standards of evaluation—eat well, drink well, and work well.
"But really, it is an honor as a money changer to sit and feast with you like this, Mr. Lawrence!"
"No, please."
Lawrence began to feel embarrassed, but something confused him.
He was going to finally introduce himself to the president, but instead Lawrence heard his name first.
"I'm sorry, have we met somewhere before?"
He would never forget so easily such a rotund, white-bearded money changer. Then, the association president bit into meat still on the bone and washed it down with ale before laughing.
"What are you talking about?! You are a hero to us money changers—nay, the patron saint of trade! And your wife has not changed a bit since then! I knew right away!"
Holo, who was spreading butter onto the fried lamprey, looked up as though she had been called.

Output:
Holo, not too interested, bit into the fried lamprey, then drank her ale to wash down the hot oil.
But Lawrence felt proud when he heard what the president said.
That was the last big adventure he and Holo undertook together.
"Anyhow, without your accomplishments, the Debau Company would have decayed and become a boring company right about now, and the silver debau that brightened the entire northern region may never have been born. And there is no way this town would have grown as big as it did."
At the time, Lawrence and his companions found themselves caught up in a giant plot. Since the convenience of transportation in this region was virtually nonexistent, centralized power had not been established, so there was a grandiose plan to unify the region by establishing a standardized currency. The ones who had dreamed up such an outrageous thing were called the Debau Company.
But it was the way of the world in that wherever there was a plan, there would always be someone trying to foil it, and the Debau Company very nearly had to give up and start over. The one who saved them from that fate was Lawrence, and the one who supported him, Holo. That was why it was possible to claim that had they not been there, the silver debau—currently the most reliable silver piece in the region, a coin engraved with a design of the sun—would not exist.
But after starting their bathhouse in Nyohhira, the birth of their daughter Myuri, and the bustle of daily life, Lawrence had completely forgotten. A long time ago, he might have held his chest high in overflowing pride, but now he reacted with only a small smile and washed down the memory with some ale.
"That was all the will of God. And only possible due to the ties we had with many people."
They did nothing more than play a small part. At that time, they were, at any rate, just a lonely wolf that had been left behind by the passage of time who forgot her way home and a simple traveling merchant.
"And the silver debau is in circulation all thanks to the Debau Company's fiscal management."
"Heh-heh. Those who act modestly are the most frightening. Though the Debau Company is rather frightening, too. They're very strict in managing us."
There were endless kinds of currency in a merchant's purse. Like a power struggle between two countries, the strong determined what coins people used the most. At the worst, the Debau Company controlled business in the northern region by putting the silver debau into circulation. In order to do that, they were thoroughly overseeing its circulation by maintaining its exchange rate and melting down other silver coins.
"The Debau Company now is less like a company and more like a nation of merchants, and the markets are their territory. Silver is stronger than the sword. They treat their vaults as if they were armories."
The world of money and power was one filled with plots.
Long ago, Lawrence thought he could disrupt such a world, but he looked back on his naiveté with a laugh.
"I'm still proud to think that I was involved with such a powerful company as Debau as a humble peddler, even if it was just a little bit."
"What! Being where you need to be when you need to be is a merchant's true skill. Ah no, you own a bathhouse now."
The president laughed and poured ale into Lawrence's mug.
"It seems where you needed to be was Nyohhira."
The president, who had a long relationship with the people of Nyohhira, knew what it meant for them to bring their coins and goods at this time of year.
He cracked the smile of a genial old man and nodded over and over.
"Though it's all and well to settle into the place you belong."
As Lawrence recalled the breadth of business negotiations, the president broached the critical topic.
"I've heard a rumor that there are several who wish to somehow jeopardize that place."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Holo, not too interested, bit into the fried lamprey, then drank her ale to wash down the hot oil.
But Lawrence felt proud when he heard what the president said.
That was the last big adventure he and Holo undertook together.
"Anyhow, without your accomplishments, the Debau Company would have decayed and become a boring company right about now, and the silver debau that brightened the entire northern region may never have been born. And there is no way this town would have grown as big as it did."
At the time, Lawrence and his companions found themselves caught up in a giant plot. Since the convenience of transportation in this region was virtually nonexistent, centralized power had not been established, so there was a grandiose plan to unify the region by establishing a standardized currency. The ones who had dreamed up such an outrageous thing were called the Debau Company.
But it was the way of the world in that wherever there was a plan, there would always be someone trying to foil it, and the Debau Company very nearly had to give up and start over. The one who saved them from that fate was Lawrence, and the one who supported him, Holo. That was why it was possible to claim that had they not been there, the silver debau—currently the most reliable silver piece in the region, a coin engraved with a design of the sun—would not exist.
But after starting their bathhouse in Nyohhira, the birth of their daughter Myuri, and the bustle of daily life, Lawrence had completely forgotten. A long time ago, he might have held his chest high in overflowing pride, but now he reacted with only a small smile and washed down the memory with some ale.
"That was all the will of God. And only possible due to the ties we had with many people."
They did nothing more than play a small part. At that time, they were, at any rate, just a lonely wolf that had been left behind by the passage of time who forgot her way home and a simple traveling merchant.
"And the silver debau is in circulation all thanks to the Debau Company's fiscal management."
"Heh-heh. Those who act modestly are the most frightening. Though the Debau Company is rather frightening, too. They're very strict in managing us."
There were endless kinds of currency in a merchant's purse. Like a power struggle between two countries, the strong determined what coins people used the most. At the worst, the Debau Company controlled business in the northern region by putting the silver debau into circulation. In order to do that, they were thoroughly overseeing its circulation by maintaining its exchange rate and melting down other silver coins.
"The Debau Company now is less like a company and more like a nation of merchants, and the markets are their territory. Silver is stronger than the sword. They treat their vaults as if they were armories."
The world of money and power was one filled with plots.
Long ago, Lawrence thought he could disrupt such a world, but he looked back on his naiveté with a laugh.
"I'm still proud to think that I was involved with such a powerful company as Debau as a humble peddler, even if it was just a little bit."
"What! Being where you need to be when you need to be is a merchant's true skill. Ah no, you own a bathhouse now."
The president laughed and poured ale into Lawrence's mug.
"It seems where you needed to be was Nyohhira."
The president, who had a long relationship with the people of Nyohhira, knew what it meant for them to bring their coins and goods at this time of year.
He cracked the smile of a genial old man and nodded over and over.
"Though it's all and well to settle into the place you belong."
As Lawrence recalled the breadth of business negotiations, the president broached the critical topic.
"I've heard a rumor that there are several who wish to somehow jeopardize that place."

Output:
"We've also been talking about nothing but lately."
The president leaned back in his chair and sighed as he stroked his beard. In that moment of silence, the only sound was the crunch, crunch of Holo tearing into lamb meat, still on the bone.
"Should we gain another hot spring village, at any rate, trade would grow exponentially, you know."
Lawrence might have been imagining the unpleasant expression on the other man's face.
It was the expression of a merchant who was honest in his profits and who single-mindedly moved forward.
Lawrence felt nostalgic, as though he had met an old friend for the first time in a long time.
"Wouldn't that be like trying to thread two strings through the eye of one needle?"
The association looked busy with its current state of affairs. The president nodded in agreement as he skewered some fried garlic with a knife.
"Of course, I imagine this is not a pleasant situation for Nyohhira's inhabitants."
He pried out a clove of garlic and extended one on his knife in offering, but Lawrence declined.
Instead, Holo took it and ate it with the venison. Lawrence was a bit exasperated, since whenever he ate garlic, she would become angry with him for the smell.
"Who are they? To dig the baths, you need a certain level of preparation. And beyond the mountains...I've heard it's on the other mountain face, to the west of Nyohhira, but I think that far out, there are no smaller communities or anything of the sort."
"Yes, however, there is an old road that travels from Svernel in that direction."
The president sprinkled some salt onto the garlic cloves and simply threw them into his mouth. Though they were in such an exquisite association building, it was refreshing for Lawrence to see him act unaffected.
"It's been several decades now...Back when the Church and its teachings had not taken root at all in this area. At the time zealous monks came, and their blood boiled because they were all but surrounded by enemies. With frightening enthusiasm, they carved open a road and built a stone monastery deep in the mountains. This was back when the northlands and the southern Church were truly at war. But no one bothered them, as though they sensed a sort of courage from them. I think many people in this town, including myself, converted to follow Church ways out of acknowledgment for their passion."
There certainly were things like that. That was true conviction.
"But before we knew it, the war, too, became a shell of what it used to be, and it became like an annual vacation, and the monks also grew old before going off somewhere. Well, this is a difficult land to live in without passion."
"So, the newcomers are at the ruins of the monastery?"
"It would seem so. The road hasn't been used in a long while, so it needs to be cleared again, but I don't know if that will be easier than building a new one. Also, there's word that the building still stands. What's more, they have a special permission for that whole area."
Hearing those words, Lawrence gulped.
"Don't tell me they're planning to colonize?"
In order to prevent rising discontent of those unable to find work after a town or village grew too overpopulated, the nobility would occasionally migrate people to a distant territory. If these were colonists dispatched by noble decree, it would become quite troublesome.
"No...It shouldn't be something on such a large scale. According to rumor, there aren't even ten people."
"Where are they from?"
"I've heard they used to be meager mercenaries in the south. As you know, it is quite a remote area, so they likely got their permission through some sort of connection. And see, since the war ended, mercenaries have also lost their jobs, and their lords might have thought this better than letting mercenaries roam around their land without jobs...That was likely part of the plan. A vagrant lifestyle probably did not suit those soldiers either, so they will likely wash their hands of the ruffian life here."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"We've also been talking about nothing but lately."
The president leaned back in his chair and sighed as he stroked his beard. In that moment of silence, the only sound was the crunch, crunch of Holo tearing into lamb meat, still on the bone.
"Should we gain another hot spring village, at any rate, trade would grow exponentially, you know."
Lawrence might have been imagining the unpleasant expression on the other man's face.
It was the expression of a merchant who was honest in his profits and who single-mindedly moved forward.
Lawrence felt nostalgic, as though he had met an old friend for the first time in a long time.
"Wouldn't that be like trying to thread two strings through the eye of one needle?"
The association looked busy with its current state of affairs. The president nodded in agreement as he skewered some fried garlic with a knife.
"Of course, I imagine this is not a pleasant situation for Nyohhira's inhabitants."
He pried out a clove of garlic and extended one on his knife in offering, but Lawrence declined.
Instead, Holo took it and ate it with the venison. Lawrence was a bit exasperated, since whenever he ate garlic, she would become angry with him for the smell.
"Who are they? To dig the baths, you need a certain level of preparation. And beyond the mountains...I've heard it's on the other mountain face, to the west of Nyohhira, but I think that far out, there are no smaller communities or anything of the sort."
"Yes, however, there is an old road that travels from Svernel in that direction."
The president sprinkled some salt onto the garlic cloves and simply threw them into his mouth. Though they were in such an exquisite association building, it was refreshing for Lawrence to see him act unaffected.
"It's been several decades now...Back when the Church and its teachings had not taken root at all in this area. At the time zealous monks came, and their blood boiled because they were all but surrounded by enemies. With frightening enthusiasm, they carved open a road and built a stone monastery deep in the mountains. This was back when the northlands and the southern Church were truly at war. But no one bothered them, as though they sensed a sort of courage from them. I think many people in this town, including myself, converted to follow Church ways out of acknowledgment for their passion."
There certainly were things like that. That was true conviction.
"But before we knew it, the war, too, became a shell of what it used to be, and it became like an annual vacation, and the monks also grew old before going off somewhere. Well, this is a difficult land to live in without passion."
"So, the newcomers are at the ruins of the monastery?"
"It would seem so. The road hasn't been used in a long while, so it needs to be cleared again, but I don't know if that will be easier than building a new one. Also, there's word that the building still stands. What's more, they have a special permission for that whole area."
Hearing those words, Lawrence gulped.
"Don't tell me they're planning to colonize?"
In order to prevent rising discontent of those unable to find work after a town or village grew too overpopulated, the nobility would occasionally migrate people to a distant territory. If these were colonists dispatched by noble decree, it would become quite troublesome.
"No...It shouldn't be something on such a large scale. According to rumor, there aren't even ten people."
"Where are they from?"
"I've heard they used to be meager mercenaries in the south. As you know, it is quite a remote area, so they likely got their permission through some sort of connection. And see, since the war ended, mercenaries have also lost their jobs, and their lords might have thought this better than letting mercenaries roam around their land without jobs...That was likely part of the plan. A vagrant lifestyle probably did not suit those soldiers either, so they will likely wash their hands of the ruffian life here."

Output:
If that was the case, then he would be thankful. It was extremely difficult to find new springs, even in Nyohhira. All of the noteworthy places were used up, and it was thanks to Holo's wolf powers that he was able to open a bathhouse at all.
"We also thought so. But..."
The president put down his knife and gulped down his mug of ale.
"...They've got good heads on their shoulders."
Good heads.
And the president even looked a bit bitter.
"They're preparing ahead."
"Ahead?"
"Basically, they're assuming that they will strike water and have already come to buy the supplies needed for a hot spring village. So they've already made inroads with the lumber trade, the butcher's, the baker's association, the ale brewer's association, and the winery association."
Lawrence was at a loss for words, and the president's expression grew grimmer and grimmer.
"Every association will fight with us over seats in the city council. These newcomers seem to be aware, somehow, even of private affairs."
In exchange for handling materials, something was done under the table. Associations took bribes and bought places on the city council using that money. That was likely it.
Putting guesses aside, Lawrence did not think their conversation was truly reaching that point yet.
This meant that they were not up against southern ruffians who came simply because they had a rough idea. They would not come, risking everything on whether or not they would find spring water. They at least had enough sense to make sure they were properly laying down the necessary groundwork.
"They haven't come to us yet, so they probably don't need help with currency."
Rather, it was the money changers that relied on the coins that the hot spring towns saved up.
But as Lawrence groaned, the president slammed his thick arms, which could knock down a bull, onto the table and stood up.
"This means that our interests and your...no, Nyohhira's interests, are one and the same. If those with power in the council go against us, then we would lose face. At the same time, if we can stay above our competitors like we always have, we can continue to ensure the division of limited supplies will suit Nyohhira's circumstances. I believe we should cooperate."
It had been a while since he had talked about exposed interests that coincided.
Lawrence, aware of his own importance, slowly reached out to his ale and drank slowly. He kicked awake his sleeping mind and lit it ablaze, since the president should have been proposing that he wanted money in exchange for protecting their supplies.
"Of course, it is as you say."
But if that were the case, then it would be more effective to go directly to the lumber and meat associations in order to compete with the newcomers. Or it was possible that the president was using the fact newcomers had appeared as part of a show by the president.
At any rate, it was something that involved quite a bit of money.
If Lawrence acted carelessly, it would affect his colleagues in Nyohhira for decades to come.
"But I must discuss this with the other villagers."
"Hmm? I suppose you should, but Mr. Lawrence, I am asking you now."
It was difficult to tell if his reddened cheeks were from excitement or the alcohol.
As Lawrence hesitated, the president suddenly looked as though he had realized something.
"Mr. Lawrence, don't tell me you...?"
Lawrence panicked when he thought that perhaps the president had made a big misunderstanding. He likely thought that Nyohhira had already betrayed the money changers and run to the lumber and butcher associations.
"No, this is the first I've heard of this. That's all I ask you to believe."
"Oh, I see, well, I suppose so...I, too, would be flustered if I suddenly heard all of this at once, but we can't lose to those guys."
It was a fight for standing in a crowded town. Especially since business was booming now, seats in the council were like thrones. Even so, it would be unbearable to be treated as pawns in a political arena.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
If that was the case, then he would be thankful. It was extremely difficult to find new springs, even in Nyohhira. All of the noteworthy places were used up, and it was thanks to Holo's wolf powers that he was able to open a bathhouse at all.
"We also thought so. But..."
The president put down his knife and gulped down his mug of ale.
"...They've got good heads on their shoulders."
Good heads.
And the president even looked a bit bitter.
"They're preparing ahead."
"Ahead?"
"Basically, they're assuming that they will strike water and have already come to buy the supplies needed for a hot spring village. So they've already made inroads with the lumber trade, the butcher's, the baker's association, the ale brewer's association, and the winery association."
Lawrence was at a loss for words, and the president's expression grew grimmer and grimmer.
"Every association will fight with us over seats in the city council. These newcomers seem to be aware, somehow, even of private affairs."
In exchange for handling materials, something was done under the table. Associations took bribes and bought places on the city council using that money. That was likely it.
Putting guesses aside, Lawrence did not think their conversation was truly reaching that point yet.
This meant that they were not up against southern ruffians who came simply because they had a rough idea. They would not come, risking everything on whether or not they would find spring water. They at least had enough sense to make sure they were properly laying down the necessary groundwork.
"They haven't come to us yet, so they probably don't need help with currency."
Rather, it was the money changers that relied on the coins that the hot spring towns saved up.
But as Lawrence groaned, the president slammed his thick arms, which could knock down a bull, onto the table and stood up.
"This means that our interests and your...no, Nyohhira's interests, are one and the same. If those with power in the council go against us, then we would lose face. At the same time, if we can stay above our competitors like we always have, we can continue to ensure the division of limited supplies will suit Nyohhira's circumstances. I believe we should cooperate."
It had been a while since he had talked about exposed interests that coincided.
Lawrence, aware of his own importance, slowly reached out to his ale and drank slowly. He kicked awake his sleeping mind and lit it ablaze, since the president should have been proposing that he wanted money in exchange for protecting their supplies.
"Of course, it is as you say."
But if that were the case, then it would be more effective to go directly to the lumber and meat associations in order to compete with the newcomers. Or it was possible that the president was using the fact newcomers had appeared as part of a show by the president.
At any rate, it was something that involved quite a bit of money.
If Lawrence acted carelessly, it would affect his colleagues in Nyohhira for decades to come.
"But I must discuss this with the other villagers."
"Hmm? I suppose you should, but Mr. Lawrence, I am asking you now."
It was difficult to tell if his reddened cheeks were from excitement or the alcohol.
As Lawrence hesitated, the president suddenly looked as though he had realized something.
"Mr. Lawrence, don't tell me you...?"
Lawrence panicked when he thought that perhaps the president had made a big misunderstanding. He likely thought that Nyohhira had already betrayed the money changers and run to the lumber and butcher associations.
"No, this is the first I've heard of this. That's all I ask you to believe."
"Oh, I see, well, I suppose so...I, too, would be flustered if I suddenly heard all of this at once, but we can't lose to those guys."
It was a fight for standing in a crowded town. Especially since business was booming now, seats in the council were like thrones. Even so, it would be unbearable to be treated as pawns in a political arena.

Output:
"Or could it be that? Mr. Lawrence, have you taken a special oath of nonviolence?"
The president had asked another question so suddenly, Lawrence felt if he took it too lightly, he would be instantly led around by the nose.
But it was too crazy.
"What? Non...violence?"
The other man might have been asking Lawrence to get rid of eyesores. It was not as though there were no such incidents in the world of trade—though he knew this, he felt his back grow sweaty.
Assassination.
Until just a few years ago, this place had been influenced by a war that spanned several decades. Kill or be killed might have been considered normal.
He gulped out of nervousness, and the president continued, staring at the table.
"Faith is precious. I cannot deny that. But as long as we choose to live, we cannot escape every single loss of life. May I ask you to avert your gaze, just this once?"
His gaze slowly made its way to Lawrence.
"You seem to take good care of yourself, and it doesn't seem that your gut would get in the way."
If a townsperson committed the deed, they would be exposed easily. But if it was someone from the mountains, the president likely thought that they could simply disappear into the mountains. And digging a bath was similar to mining, and mining obviously came with accidents. Just as Holo said jokingly, they could go to the place where the newcomers were digging and bury them in dirt. And the bathhouse coordinator in Nyohhira said the same—if it were back in the old days, they would be ready to cross the mountain with clubs in hand...
Surrounded by the steam that smelled of sulfur, perhaps Lawrence could not clearly see outside the world.
Indeed—the world was a place this cruel and heartless.
He remembered that keeping a clean conscience was a tremendous luxury.
"But I—"
"I know, I know. It's a bit different than the help every year that my association and the village of Nyohhira have agreed on.
It is not just "a bit."
Lawrence wanted to yell that.
"Our money changer association is, as I'm sure you know, filled with those who sit to work. Besides the money changers, the other members of this association are all craftsmen who do metalwork, carve pillars and walls. And they're a bit too...old to run around chasing game."
Lawrence then recalled the president's exclamation from earlier about how happy he was the village had sent someone young this time—only now it had taken on a new, dark meaning. His choice of saying "game" was like a reminder that it happened regularly.
"But do not worry. We are used to these sorts of situations. Mr. Lawrence, I want you to catch our game and bring them back."
Catch, kill, scatter, and bury. The flow of things was already determined.
The president gulped down his ale and spoke.
"I realize that your job is the most difficult. But...to beat them, this is our only choice. And I've heard that you used to live on the road as a merchant. I'm sure you've experienced this once or twice?"
He had certainly heard of those kinds of tradesmen. For example, the kind that stuck close to wars and conflicts. They went around pillaging towns with soldiers and dealt with those who attempted to protect their assets by swallowing gold and jewels.
He had seen and heard about them a few times when he was a traveling merchant. Stories about people who offered to travel together on dangerous roads when they were really the pawns of bandits.
But Lawrence thought himself different. Even if he could not say with pride before God that he was a perfectly honest merchant, he never crossed any moral boundaries the patron saint of trade would refuse to forgive. And it went without saying that he was a father now. There was no way he would be able to hug his beloved daughter when she came home if his hands were covered in blood. He could not. He would not.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Or could it be that? Mr. Lawrence, have you taken a special oath of nonviolence?"
The president had asked another question so suddenly, Lawrence felt if he took it too lightly, he would be instantly led around by the nose.
But it was too crazy.
"What? Non...violence?"
The other man might have been asking Lawrence to get rid of eyesores. It was not as though there were no such incidents in the world of trade—though he knew this, he felt his back grow sweaty.
Assassination.
Until just a few years ago, this place had been influenced by a war that spanned several decades. Kill or be killed might have been considered normal.
He gulped out of nervousness, and the president continued, staring at the table.
"Faith is precious. I cannot deny that. But as long as we choose to live, we cannot escape every single loss of life. May I ask you to avert your gaze, just this once?"
His gaze slowly made its way to Lawrence.
"You seem to take good care of yourself, and it doesn't seem that your gut would get in the way."
If a townsperson committed the deed, they would be exposed easily. But if it was someone from the mountains, the president likely thought that they could simply disappear into the mountains. And digging a bath was similar to mining, and mining obviously came with accidents. Just as Holo said jokingly, they could go to the place where the newcomers were digging and bury them in dirt. And the bathhouse coordinator in Nyohhira said the same—if it were back in the old days, they would be ready to cross the mountain with clubs in hand...
Surrounded by the steam that smelled of sulfur, perhaps Lawrence could not clearly see outside the world.
Indeed—the world was a place this cruel and heartless.
He remembered that keeping a clean conscience was a tremendous luxury.
"But I—"
"I know, I know. It's a bit different than the help every year that my association and the village of Nyohhira have agreed on.
It is not just "a bit."
Lawrence wanted to yell that.
"Our money changer association is, as I'm sure you know, filled with those who sit to work. Besides the money changers, the other members of this association are all craftsmen who do metalwork, carve pillars and walls. And they're a bit too...old to run around chasing game."
Lawrence then recalled the president's exclamation from earlier about how happy he was the village had sent someone young this time—only now it had taken on a new, dark meaning. His choice of saying "game" was like a reminder that it happened regularly.
"But do not worry. We are used to these sorts of situations. Mr. Lawrence, I want you to catch our game and bring them back."
Catch, kill, scatter, and bury. The flow of things was already determined.
The president gulped down his ale and spoke.
"I realize that your job is the most difficult. But...to beat them, this is our only choice. And I've heard that you used to live on the road as a merchant. I'm sure you've experienced this once or twice?"
He had certainly heard of those kinds of tradesmen. For example, the kind that stuck close to wars and conflicts. They went around pillaging towns with soldiers and dealt with those who attempted to protect their assets by swallowing gold and jewels.
He had seen and heard about them a few times when he was a traveling merchant. Stories about people who offered to travel together on dangerous roads when they were really the pawns of bandits.
But Lawrence thought himself different. Even if he could not say with pride before God that he was a perfectly honest merchant, he never crossed any moral boundaries the patron saint of trade would refuse to forgive. And it went without saying that he was a father now. There was no way he would be able to hug his beloved daughter when she came home if his hands were covered in blood. He could not. He would not.

Output:
But when he realized the alternative, a chill ran up his spine. Could this be why he was finally being regarded as a member of the village after ten-odd years? It was easy to keep dirty work a secret if they could not leave after being rooted there for such a long time.
If that were the case, then he could imagine what would happen if he refused.
Lawrence's eyes darkened.
Such things did happen.
"Mr. Lawrence?"
The association president called his name, and Lawrence snapped back to reality.
But nevertheless, he could not find his words.
Lawrence looked miserably at Holo, who sat beside him.
"Well."
As he gazed at her, she spoke pitilessly.
"Do you have a reason to reject?"
His vision wavered. But when he thought of the village—right. When he thought of living in the village, that was right. That was the place they called their home, something they would not find again. When he weighed that on the scales, it was almost like putting the devil on the other side.
"And I am with you."
When she smiled at him, he decided with his gut. He could go anywhere, as long as Holo was by his side.
He cleared his dry throat and placed his hand on the gates to hell.
As long as Holo was with him, he could get through it.
"You are breaking out in quite the sweat."
"No, I'm all right."
It was then he wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Once before when you took several head-butts in retaliation to the stomach, were you this scared? You took quite the magnificent tumble, though...," Holo remarked.
"...Huh?"
Head-butts? Retaliation?
He then heard a snorting noise of air escaping. When he looked to see the source, the president burst into laughter across the table and hurriedly covered his laugh with his hand.
"Not to mention that should it be a bad hit, something may break."
"Oh, God."
The president murmured with a serious expression and stirred in his chair.
"But your game, too, will be disorganized, so I don't think you need to worry about that."
"Oh? I have heard they are quite the violent ones."
"That is not something I can say as someone who has asked you to do this. But I can guarantee that it will be exciting. Well...I believe you are prepared to take one or two hits..."
What are they talking about?
As Lawrence sat, baffled, Holo split a piece of bread in two and began to munch on it.
"And say the name. Or perhaps, he will hear the name and tremble with fear."
"Oh, I see!"
The president stroked his long, white beard and nodded as though he understood.
"Oh, Mr. Lawrence, I know the name is ominous and it seems fraught with danger, but I don't think it will be that bad."
He spoke cheerfully to Lawrence, who no longer had the strength to ask any more questions.
"It's called the Festival of the Dead, but it's not as gruesome as you imagine. I can't really explain the way and scope of the festival better than this. If you watch, I'm sure you'll understand."
"'Twill be the most exciting. I've heard they serve the meat of the butchered game, as well."
"Exactly. That's why we do it, actually. The point is to enjoy preparing for the Revitalization Festival of the Patron Saint, which happens after the Festival of the Dead. Too many people that gather in town around this time. The workers at the butchers can't meet the need for tallow, to make candles with, and the demand for meat we use in the ceremony all by themselves. We needed to do something to address these issues, and that's how it all started. And everything will get quite complicated after obtaining the political power to monopolize these important preparations."
"When I heard about it, I was most impressed with how well it was performed. And the rules of the festival are rather nice and clear-cut."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
But when he realized the alternative, a chill ran up his spine. Could this be why he was finally being regarded as a member of the village after ten-odd years? It was easy to keep dirty work a secret if they could not leave after being rooted there for such a long time.
If that were the case, then he could imagine what would happen if he refused.
Lawrence's eyes darkened.
Such things did happen.
"Mr. Lawrence?"
The association president called his name, and Lawrence snapped back to reality.
But nevertheless, he could not find his words.
Lawrence looked miserably at Holo, who sat beside him.
"Well."
As he gazed at her, she spoke pitilessly.
"Do you have a reason to reject?"
His vision wavered. But when he thought of the village—right. When he thought of living in the village, that was right. That was the place they called their home, something they would not find again. When he weighed that on the scales, it was almost like putting the devil on the other side.
"And I am with you."
When she smiled at him, he decided with his gut. He could go anywhere, as long as Holo was by his side.
He cleared his dry throat and placed his hand on the gates to hell.
As long as Holo was with him, he could get through it.
"You are breaking out in quite the sweat."
"No, I'm all right."
It was then he wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Once before when you took several head-butts in retaliation to the stomach, were you this scared? You took quite the magnificent tumble, though...," Holo remarked.
"...Huh?"
Head-butts? Retaliation?
He then heard a snorting noise of air escaping. When he looked to see the source, the president burst into laughter across the table and hurriedly covered his laugh with his hand.
"Not to mention that should it be a bad hit, something may break."
"Oh, God."
The president murmured with a serious expression and stirred in his chair.
"But your game, too, will be disorganized, so I don't think you need to worry about that."
"Oh? I have heard they are quite the violent ones."
"That is not something I can say as someone who has asked you to do this. But I can guarantee that it will be exciting. Well...I believe you are prepared to take one or two hits..."
What are they talking about?
As Lawrence sat, baffled, Holo split a piece of bread in two and began to munch on it.
"And say the name. Or perhaps, he will hear the name and tremble with fear."
"Oh, I see!"
The president stroked his long, white beard and nodded as though he understood.
"Oh, Mr. Lawrence, I know the name is ominous and it seems fraught with danger, but I don't think it will be that bad."
He spoke cheerfully to Lawrence, who no longer had the strength to ask any more questions.
"It's called the Festival of the Dead, but it's not as gruesome as you imagine. I can't really explain the way and scope of the festival better than this. If you watch, I'm sure you'll understand."
"'Twill be the most exciting. I've heard they serve the meat of the butchered game, as well."
"Exactly. That's why we do it, actually. The point is to enjoy preparing for the Revitalization Festival of the Patron Saint, which happens after the Festival of the Dead. Too many people that gather in town around this time. The workers at the butchers can't meet the need for tallow, to make candles with, and the demand for meat we use in the ceremony all by themselves. We needed to do something to address these issues, and that's how it all started. And everything will get quite complicated after obtaining the political power to monopolize these important preparations."
"When I heard about it, I was most impressed with how well it was performed. And the rules of the festival are rather nice and clear-cut."

Output:
He tightened his hand into a fist and seemed genuinely excited.
Lawrence did not know much about the festivals in this town. He had only heard that his work was to help out. He faintly recalled Holo asking him on the way here what sort of work he would be doing. She loved lively events and had undoubtedly asked one of their guests at the bathhouse about every little detail so she was probably well informed.
"Up until now, I, though unworthy, have held the stick, but I can't win against old age...Having said that, the only ones who can participate in the festival are the ones who have a connection to this land. All the notable young people have already been reserved. That is why at this rate, we'll lose to the other associations who've brought in mercenaries with permits, appearing suddenly like shooting stars. Please consider treating this year as an exception, and accept this job!"
Lawrence, his eyes drained of energy, asked in response:
"And what is it exactly?"
The president spoke.
"To capture sheep and pigs. We will handle the disposal. Yours is the most dangerous job, but please!"
He placed his hands on the table and bowed his head. The ones intruding in on the lumber and meat associations were mercenaries from the south. They were no doubt physically strong.
Lawrence gazed off, staring at the texture of the wooden ceiling, and nodded.
"I accept."
"Ohh! You have my thanks!"
The president looked up, then took Lawrence's hand and shook it vigorously. He would leave things as they were, but Lawrence had been thinking of something else entirely up until now.
He had to somehow hide the foolish misunderstanding.
But the sharp-sighted, mischievous Holo was not one to simply allow his odd behavior a pass. When they returned to the room after eating, she immediately bit into him. He did not try to resist. Like a pet pig that appeared timidly before his hatchet-wielding master, he confessed with blank eyes.
No poet alive could describe how much Holo had rolled about in laughter.
Starting the day after, Lawrence set out inside town with a wooden mallet in hand. It was not something meant for just a bit of timberwork. Including the handle, it was about the same size as Holo. This was a tool meant for hammering in the railing that kept the round fence in the town square together for the Festival of the Dead.
It was simple but backbreaking work, so it was apparently divided between the town's craftsmen associations. So it was obvious with one look at the square which association was working properly. Among them, the money changers' association was not making much progress by any standard. They were quite busy and elderly men who sat down for work every day, so they all had bad backs. That was why every year, they relied on representatives from Nyohhira to do it for them.
Lawrence borrowed just one boy from the association and got to work. Propping up a stake the size of his thigh, there was no way he would be able to hammer it in alone. Though Holo would probably be able to hold it up, she refused. Likely because no matter how carefully she held the stake, she would end up covered in mud.
So in the end, as Lawrence spent the day hammering away, Holo stayed in their room at the association building, preening herself in luxury.
"...I really think I need to have a talk with you about what the word cooperation means."
"There is work that is suitable for a weakling like me."
Holo assured her husband as she elegantly blew on the white hairs at the tip of her tail.
Lawrence did not have the energy to get mad at her and washed himself in the bath the association had prepared for him.
Tired, he sat on the bed and began to dry his hair, but Holo took the handkerchief instead and dried it for him.
"Don't think that this is me forgiving you," Lawrence reminded her, and she spitefully rubbed his face, too.
"More importantly, have you spotted the fools who are trying to intrude on our territory?"


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
He tightened his hand into a fist and seemed genuinely excited.
Lawrence did not know much about the festivals in this town. He had only heard that his work was to help out. He faintly recalled Holo asking him on the way here what sort of work he would be doing. She loved lively events and had undoubtedly asked one of their guests at the bathhouse about every little detail so she was probably well informed.
"Up until now, I, though unworthy, have held the stick, but I can't win against old age...Having said that, the only ones who can participate in the festival are the ones who have a connection to this land. All the notable young people have already been reserved. That is why at this rate, we'll lose to the other associations who've brought in mercenaries with permits, appearing suddenly like shooting stars. Please consider treating this year as an exception, and accept this job!"
Lawrence, his eyes drained of energy, asked in response:
"And what is it exactly?"
The president spoke.
"To capture sheep and pigs. We will handle the disposal. Yours is the most dangerous job, but please!"
He placed his hands on the table and bowed his head. The ones intruding in on the lumber and meat associations were mercenaries from the south. They were no doubt physically strong.
Lawrence gazed off, staring at the texture of the wooden ceiling, and nodded.
"I accept."
"Ohh! You have my thanks!"
The president looked up, then took Lawrence's hand and shook it vigorously. He would leave things as they were, but Lawrence had been thinking of something else entirely up until now.
He had to somehow hide the foolish misunderstanding.
But the sharp-sighted, mischievous Holo was not one to simply allow his odd behavior a pass. When they returned to the room after eating, she immediately bit into him. He did not try to resist. Like a pet pig that appeared timidly before his hatchet-wielding master, he confessed with blank eyes.
No poet alive could describe how much Holo had rolled about in laughter.
Starting the day after, Lawrence set out inside town with a wooden mallet in hand. It was not something meant for just a bit of timberwork. Including the handle, it was about the same size as Holo. This was a tool meant for hammering in the railing that kept the round fence in the town square together for the Festival of the Dead.
It was simple but backbreaking work, so it was apparently divided between the town's craftsmen associations. So it was obvious with one look at the square which association was working properly. Among them, the money changers' association was not making much progress by any standard. They were quite busy and elderly men who sat down for work every day, so they all had bad backs. That was why every year, they relied on representatives from Nyohhira to do it for them.
Lawrence borrowed just one boy from the association and got to work. Propping up a stake the size of his thigh, there was no way he would be able to hammer it in alone. Though Holo would probably be able to hold it up, she refused. Likely because no matter how carefully she held the stake, she would end up covered in mud.
So in the end, as Lawrence spent the day hammering away, Holo stayed in their room at the association building, preening herself in luxury.
"...I really think I need to have a talk with you about what the word cooperation means."
"There is work that is suitable for a weakling like me."
Holo assured her husband as she elegantly blew on the white hairs at the tip of her tail.
Lawrence did not have the energy to get mad at her and washed himself in the bath the association had prepared for him.
Tired, he sat on the bed and began to dry his hair, but Holo took the handkerchief instead and dried it for him.
"Don't think that this is me forgiving you," Lawrence reminded her, and she spitefully rubbed his face, too.
"More importantly, have you spotted the fools who are trying to intrude on our territory?"

Output:
"No, I asked around, too, but apparently, they already finished with their work and are gone. For now they've left town, and they are probably digging holes for the baths."
The members of other associations were surprised at how fast those newcomers worked. When Lawrence himself examined the stakes they had hammered, he shuddered. It was set in deep and perfectly straight and did not budge in the slightest. Would he be able to beat them at hunting pigs and sheep? He was beginning to have honest doubts.
"Well, 'twill turn out all right."
When Lawrence told her his thoughts during the day, Holo would not seriously listen to him. She put her cheek to his back, wrapped her arms around his waist, and wagged her tail. She was likely so obviously wanting attention because her usual conversation partner Hanna was not here, and she had spent the entire day alone in the room.
Usually, he would be pleased, but now his mind was filled with other things.
"I can't be as relaxed as you right now."
If they did not do well, then the money changers' association would lose seats in the city council, and they would lose their right to dictate the flow of goods in town. If they lost their standing, then they would no longer be able to give Nyohhira special treatment. Should that happen, Nyohhira's supply procurement would be suddenly hindered...Which might not happen, but it would not be a good thing for the village regardless.
If it came to that, he did not know how he would be able to face the rest of the villagers when they returned home.
"But worrying will not grow muscle in your arms. Still, I doubt you could refuse, then. Even if...'twere assassination?"
Holo said it herself and then laughed. She would be playing with that particular foolish misunderstanding for a while.
"That's...well, true..."
"Then, 'tis decided, aye?"
She released the arms around him and slipped in front of him.
"Food?"
"And drink."
They could not fight on empty stomachs.
Though he had just come back in, the stalls outside would close if they dallied. Mustering up the energy, Lawrence stood up, and Holo held her overcoat.
He was certain that Holo would make him go shopping on his own, but it seemed she was coming with him.
"...You always surprise me with how good you are at pushing and pulling."
On careful examination, he thought that was something normal, but Holo was amazing to think that, for some reason, he meant it as a compliment.
Putting on a fox muffler, which she never wore because it was a bit much for the village, Holo smiled purposefully.
Then, like a cute young girl, she tilted her head as if she was clueless.
This sort of life continued for several days, and they watched the town prepare for the festival.
Two days after Lawrence first used the wooden mallet, he found himself plagued in his body and heart by terrible muscle pain, and he did his best to continue helping as much as he could. While, of course, there was the construction of the round fence for catching pigs and sheep in the Festival of the Dead, he was also running about to help make the giant straw statue for the Revitalization Festival of the Patron Saint, which came afterward. He quite literally dashed to the different districts of Svernel, collecting the straw as he pulled his cart along.
Every town had a similar kind of festival because there was all sorts of trash, such as damaged straw beddings or chair stuffing, after expending things over a long winter. And of course, he would assist pulling out this straw. In addition, he collected stockpiled fodder that had gone bad after rats took up residence inside it as well as packaging material that large companies had long kept.
After he gathered it all, he pushed through the crowd and headed to the square to tie it all together.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"No, I asked around, too, but apparently, they already finished with their work and are gone. For now they've left town, and they are probably digging holes for the baths."
The members of other associations were surprised at how fast those newcomers worked. When Lawrence himself examined the stakes they had hammered, he shuddered. It was set in deep and perfectly straight and did not budge in the slightest. Would he be able to beat them at hunting pigs and sheep? He was beginning to have honest doubts.
"Well, 'twill turn out all right."
When Lawrence told her his thoughts during the day, Holo would not seriously listen to him. She put her cheek to his back, wrapped her arms around his waist, and wagged her tail. She was likely so obviously wanting attention because her usual conversation partner Hanna was not here, and she had spent the entire day alone in the room.
Usually, he would be pleased, but now his mind was filled with other things.
"I can't be as relaxed as you right now."
If they did not do well, then the money changers' association would lose seats in the city council, and they would lose their right to dictate the flow of goods in town. If they lost their standing, then they would no longer be able to give Nyohhira special treatment. Should that happen, Nyohhira's supply procurement would be suddenly hindered...Which might not happen, but it would not be a good thing for the village regardless.
If it came to that, he did not know how he would be able to face the rest of the villagers when they returned home.
"But worrying will not grow muscle in your arms. Still, I doubt you could refuse, then. Even if...'twere assassination?"
Holo said it herself and then laughed. She would be playing with that particular foolish misunderstanding for a while.
"That's...well, true..."
"Then, 'tis decided, aye?"
She released the arms around him and slipped in front of him.
"Food?"
"And drink."
They could not fight on empty stomachs.
Though he had just come back in, the stalls outside would close if they dallied. Mustering up the energy, Lawrence stood up, and Holo held her overcoat.
He was certain that Holo would make him go shopping on his own, but it seemed she was coming with him.
"...You always surprise me with how good you are at pushing and pulling."
On careful examination, he thought that was something normal, but Holo was amazing to think that, for some reason, he meant it as a compliment.
Putting on a fox muffler, which she never wore because it was a bit much for the village, Holo smiled purposefully.
Then, like a cute young girl, she tilted her head as if she was clueless.
This sort of life continued for several days, and they watched the town prepare for the festival.
Two days after Lawrence first used the wooden mallet, he found himself plagued in his body and heart by terrible muscle pain, and he did his best to continue helping as much as he could. While, of course, there was the construction of the round fence for catching pigs and sheep in the Festival of the Dead, he was also running about to help make the giant straw statue for the Revitalization Festival of the Patron Saint, which came afterward. He quite literally dashed to the different districts of Svernel, collecting the straw as he pulled his cart along.
Every town had a similar kind of festival because there was all sorts of trash, such as damaged straw beddings or chair stuffing, after expending things over a long winter. And of course, he would assist pulling out this straw. In addition, he collected stockpiled fodder that had gone bad after rats took up residence inside it as well as packaging material that large companies had long kept.
After he gathered it all, he pushed through the crowd and headed to the square to tie it all together.

Output:
He had done these sorts of things when he traveled as a merchant, so it was nostalgic for him as well as fun. When Lawrence returned to their room at the money changers' association building, his exhaustion was so acute that as he ate with Holo, he began falling asleep.
But it was a very good tired feeling, and Holo happily took care of him.
"Can't you be at least half this helpful on a normal basis?" he asked, but she made a rather foul expression.
"I am Holo the Wisewolf. I will move when the situation calls for it."
She seemed to imply that Lawrence should offer her tribute more frequently, though this particular outing had already cut quite deeply into their savings.
And he had another mountain that he really had to climb.
As the pain racking his body subsided, the incredibly tall statue of the patron saint in the town square was finished.
Svernel was an ironic town—just as the war to establish the Church's teachings in the heathen lands had ended, the southern religion suddenly spread and grew popular. Most people likely found the Church appealing on an emotional level since before. But because the war had still technically been undertaken, albeit only as a shadow of the conflict it once was, people still minded how their neighbors would react if they converted to the enemy's religion at the time.
But listening to the stories of the townspeople he was working with, most of the people who converted to the teachings of the Church were not especially moved by them. They did so mostly because they had heard there were many festivals every year if they adhered to the Church's calendar. If they were to pray to a God that they were not entirely certain existed, then life was more enjoyable.
When he told Holo this, who long ago was offered supplication in return for a good wheat harvest in a village, she reacted with an indescribably bitter smile.
All that being said, the townspeople's passion for the festival was real. It was plain to see this peculiar enthusiasm at the spring festival, the first day of which coincided with the Festival of the Dead.
"Leave the disposal to us! If you like, we'll do it with the sharpened edges of bronze coins that have been shaven down too much!"
The president of the money changers' association howled, holding a large hatchet he had polished just for the occasion today.
The ones accompanying him were all money changers at least a decade or two older than Lawrence. All the younger money changers lay facedown on their desks, asleep after several consecutive days and nights of work. Most of the older money changers' excitement was likely due to sleep deprivation.
But Lawrence admired what looked like the sturdiness of elders that had seen war's hardships, and the president grinned.
"We don't have many years left in us. We will work as hard as we can, knowing we won't be able to come to the festival after a few more years."
There was a saying—"live today as though tomorrow is your last." He looked at them the way Holo peered into something flashing and radiant. He knew that due to Holo's longevity, everything passed before her eyes in an instant. When they all left the association building like an old bandit gang, with the president in front and everyone with their own hatchet in hand, Lawrence spoke to Holo.
"I don't have much longer to live from your perspective, do I?"
Holo opened her eyes, and her expression hardened.
"I'll work as hard as physically possible. So try to smile as much as you can for me?"
Not for a routine where yesterday and today blended together, but for a special day that they could look back on and talk about fondly, where this happened and that happened.
Once he thought about it, Holo probably had her own reasons for suddenly leaving Nyohhira and accompanying him on this errand. Even in that ever-unchanging mountain village, Col left and Myuri followed after him. She might have sensed the approaching feeling of what would come next more strongly than Lawrence had.