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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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We left the house and headed to my usual haunt.
To be precise, it was a high-end brothel where you could drink and, if the mood struck, have sex. It catered to a VIP clientele, so the security was top-notch.
In other words, we could drink here without having to worry about prying eyes.
It was 6:30 PM.
The perfect time for a drink.
I said to Dorothea and Vanessa, who were staring at the gaudy sign,
“This is my favorite spot.”
Dorothea frowned.
“This is a brothel.”
“Technically, they also sell women. Plenty of people come here just to drink.”
I knocked on the heavy wooden door.
A woman emerged.
It was Maria, the madam.
“Oh, honey? Long time no see.”
“I was out of town on business.”
Maria didn’t know I was Kaldrash, the heir to the Emerald Tower and the mage of the Hero’s party.
There was no need to reveal my identity while out drinking.
She probably thought I was just a wealthy nouveau riche.
I had spent enough money here to buy a decent mansion.
Maria smiled and opened the door.
The interior, in contrast to the flashy exterior, was surprisingly subdued.
It was still early, so the place was quiet.
Maria, her high heels clicking on the floor, glanced at Dorothea and Vanessa and asked,
“Honey, should I get the girls ready?”
“We’re just here for a drink today.”
I glanced at the two, and Dorothea said confidently,
“Why not? Let’s have some beautiful women pour us our drinks.”
“Then, three… no, six of them. And a Dom Perignon tower.”
I said, handing her a pouch of gold coins I had brought from the house. Maria’s face lit up.
A customer who would cover the day’s earnings on opening night was a welcome sight.
“Leave it to me! I’ll bring you our best girls!”
“Ah, and something greasy for snacks. We’re all on an empty stomach.”
“I’ll prepare a full course meal for you!”
I followed Maria into a large private room.
It could accommodate up to twenty people, but it was a rule to be generous with space in such places.
We sat on the long sofa, and a moment later, the doors opened, and a champagne tower, a pyramid of champagne glasses, was brought in.
Dorothea and Vanessa gasped in awe.
Heh, it’s too early to be impressed.
Six beautiful women, following Maria, greeted us.
They shook the champagne bottles and then pointed them towards the ceiling.
Pop!
The corks flew, and the champagne, flowing like lava, cascaded down the tower, filling the empty glasses.
This was the establishment’s specialty, the Dom Perignon tower.
Dorothea and Vanessa, who had never seen one before, applauded.
Maria watched them with a pleased expression, then winked at me and left.
The stage was set. It was my turn to lead the atmosphere.
“Let’s begin.”
I rolled up my sleeves and cracked my knuckles.
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“Here we go!”
Bam!
Clink!
I slammed my head on the table, and the whiskey glass, precariously balanced on the champagne glass, fell in.
The champagne and whiskey mixed, creating a unique cocktail.
My party tricks didn’t end there.
“Watch this.”
I covered the glass with a handkerchief and spun it around.
While it looked like the drink would spill, the centrifugal force kept it in.
Once it was sufficiently mixed, I placed it on the table and garnished it with a lemon wedge.
“Here, this is for you, beautiful.”
“Oh my! You’re such a player!”
The scantily clad women giggled.
I smiled, pleased, and began to make another cocktail.
This time, I placed a whiskey glass inside a beer mug, poured in cherry liqueur instead of whiskey, and then filled it with beer.
It was a sweet cocktail, but it had a special feature.
“Calling Light.”
A simple first-tier spell, but it was perfect for livening up a party.
The crystal beer mug began to glow, emitting a mysterious crimson light.
This was the other-world version of a sunrise.
“A drink from the gentleman over there.”
I slid the finished drink to Dorothea, pretending to be a bartender.
The color, resembling her hair, and the beautiful sunset-like hue seemed to please her. Dorothea, already tipsy, grinned and raised the glass.
“Not bad, Patrasche.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
Encouraged by the other women, Dorothea downed the large drink in one go.
“Ahhh…!”
As the women beside her offered her some snacks, I began to make a cocktail for Vanessa.
It was a beer cocktail, a mix of stout and ale.
It was a bit tricky to make, but I managed it quickly.
The ale settled at the bottom, and the stout floated on top, creating a distinct two-toned drink. Vanessa looked at it with curiosity.
I gestured for her to drink it, and she, with a skeptical expression, took a sip.
“It just tastes like mixed beer.”
“Because it is.”
I shrugged, and Vanessa, as if accepting my answer, finished the drink.
This was the first time I had drunk with the two of them like this, and I was in high spirits.
Enjoying a drink and a good time was a fundamental part of being Korean.
And it had been a long time since I had been able to relax and have fun with people I enjoyed being with.
Was the last time on the Eastern Front?
My head was a bit fuzzy from all the cocktails, but I was pretty sure it was. I raised another glass.
Dorothea, Vanessa, and the six other women, their faces flushed, raised their champagne glasses.
I shouted,
“Let’s drink until we drop!”
…That was the last thing I remembered.
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I woke up to a familiar ceiling.
I must have gotten blackout drunk last night, and someone had brought me home.
“Ugh… water…”
Wearing only my boxers, I stumbled downstairs like a zombie, searching for water.
Bubble, bubble, bubble!
Someone was already in the kitchen. I quickly recognized who it was.
“Vanessa?”
“Ah, you’re awake. Wait a moment. It’s almost ready.”
Vanessa, who had turned to look at me, was wearing an apron.
In her casual clothes, instead of her armor, she looked like a newlywed wife.
There was a pitcher of water and a glass on the table, likely prepared for Dorothea and me. I gratefully drank the water.
“Ahh…”
The burning thirst in my throat finally subsided. I asked Vanessa, who was cooking, her brown ponytail swaying,
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
Vanessa, her back still to me, replied,
“I’m a woman. I know how to cook a simple meal.”
“Well, Dorothea is the strange one, turning every dish into a lump of charcoal.”
Dorothea had a rather… extreme approach to cooking.
She insisted on cooking everything on high heat.
I had tried to give her some advice on the Eastern Front, but she was a lost cause.
Perhaps she was doing it on purpose, to avoid cooking. Only she, who was probably passed out upstairs, knew the truth.
A few moments later, Vanessa served me a bowl of red soup.
I looked at her, and she, with a confident expression, said,
“It’s a vegetable stew, with tomatoes as the main ingredient. In my hometown, we used to eat tomato dishes to cure hangovers.”
I was relieved to know that the red color came from tomatoes and took a large spoonful.
“Huh? This is good.”
“Did you think I would give you something inedible?”
“No, I was just surprised by how good it is.”
As expected of a 300-year-old.
She wasn’t just old for nothing.
As I looked at her with newfound respect, Vanessa, to hide her embarrassment, patted me on the back and told me to eat up.
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