■ Drinking and Merrymaking □
After leaving the house, we headed to my regular bar.
To be more precise, it’s a high-end club where you can drink and enjoy some company if things go well. The place caters mostly to VIPs, so their security is incredibly thorough.
In other words, this means you don’t have to worry about what others might think here.
Current time: 6:30 PM.
The perfect hour for drinking.
I looked at Dorothea and Barnett, who were confused by the flashy sign of the shop, and said,
“This is my regular spot.”
Dorothea frowned and replied,
“But this is a club.”
“More accurately, they also serve ‘girls,’ but plenty of people just come here to drink responsibly.”
I knocked on the tightly closed door of the establishment.
A person came out from inside—it was Maria, the madam.
“Oh my, big brother? It’s been such a long time!”
“I’ve been away from the capital because of work.”
Maria didn’t know that I was the heir to the Emerald Tower or that I was Caldlasth, the mage of the Hero Party.
There was no need to reveal my identity while just coming here to drink.
She probably thinks I’m just some rich tycoon or something.
Considering how much money I’ve spent here, it would be enough to buy a decent mansion.
After hearing my answer, Maria smiled and opened the door for us.
Once we stepped inside, despite the flashy exterior, the hall greeted us with a rather calm atmosphere.
It was still quiet since it wasn’t yet time to start business.
Maria followed behind us in her heels and glanced at Dorothea and Barnett before asking me,
“Big brother, should I send the girls to your room?”
“I’m just here to drink tonight.”
As I said this and checked their reactions, Dorothea confidently spoke up,
“Why not? Just call them. I’d like to try some drinks served by pretty sisters.”
“In that case, let’s go with six… No, make it six girls. And add the Dom Pérignon tower.”
As I said this, I handed over the pouch of gold coins I had brought from home, and Maria’s face lit up with joy.
It seems our arrival ensured today’s sales, as she seemed very pleased.
“Leave it to me! I’ll send only the best from our shop!”
“Ah, make sure the appetizers are greasy enough. We’re all here on empty stomachs.”
“I’ll prepare a full-course meal!”
Following Maria’s grand promise, I entered the massive guest room.
Although it can accommodate up to twenty people, it’s common practice to use the space generously.
We sat on the long sofa and waited for a moment when the door opened to the left and right, revealing a champagne tower built in a pyramid shape made of champagne glasses entering the room.
Dorothea and Barnett gasped in awe at the sight.
Heh, it’s too early to be impressed.
Then, six ladies came in with the madam and greeted us.
They shook the champagne bottles they held in their hands, turned the corks skyward, and popped them open.
Pop!
With a cheerful sound, the corks shot out, and the champagne flowed like lava, filling the empty glasses below.
This is the shop’s famous Dom Pérignon tower.
Dorothea and Barnett, who were seeing it for the first time, clapped enthusiastically at the impressive performance.
Madam Maria watched them fondly and then gave me a wink before leaving.
Now that everything was set up, it was my turn to lead the mood.
“Let’s get started?”
I rolled up my sleeves, spun my wrists, and muttered under my breath.
Bang!!
Clatter!
As I slammed my head onto the table, the shock caused a whiskey glass precariously perched atop the champagne glasses to fall into the mix.
Thus, a unique cocktail combining champagne and whiskey, known as a “bomb,” was created.
My drinking tricks didn’t stop there.
“Watch closely.”
I blocked the mouth of the glass with a handkerchief I pulled from my pocket and spun the champagne glass around.
Normally, one might think the alcohol would spill, but thanks to centrifugal force, it stayed inside.
Once the contents were sufficiently mixed, I placed the glass back on the table and added a slice of lemon to the rim as a finishing touch.
“Here you go, for our lovely ladies.”
“Oh my goodness! Big brother, you’re quite the pro!”
The girls giggled happily in their daring outfits.
Watching their delighted expressions, I smiled warmly and began making another bomb.
This time, I placed a whiskey glass inside a beer mug, substituted cherry liqueur for whiskey, and poured beer over it.
Though slightly sweet due to the liqueur, this one had a special feature.
“Calling Light.”
A simple level-one magic spell, but nothing beats it for livening up a drinking session.
The crystal beer mug glowed mysteriously in crimson light, creating an otherworldly sunrise cocktail.
“This drink was sent by the gentleman over there.”
I handed the completed drink to Dorothea sitting across from me, pretending to be a bartender.
Not only did it resemble her hair color, but its sunset-like beauty seemed to intoxicate her even further; already tipsy, she grinned and lifted the glass.
“Partarth, not bad for someone in your position?”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“One shot! One shot! One shot! One shot!”
Encouraged by the other ladies, Dorothea quickly downed a large amount of alcohol.
Seeing the girls on either side of her offering snacks, I decided to make a bomb for Barnett next.
It’s a beer cocktail made by mixing ale and black beer.
Though it requires a bit of skill, the method isn’t difficult, so I quickly prepared it.
Barnett took the crystal glass filled with the clearly layered cocktail and examined it curiously.
When I gestured for her to try it, she hesitantly sipped the bomb.
“It just tastes like mixed beer?”
“It’s beer-based.”
As I shrugged, Barnett agreed with a nod and finished her drink.
Drinking together with these two was a first for me, and I was feeling extremely uplifted.
Truthfully, enjoying drinking and merrymaking is a fundamental characteristic of Koreans.
And having fun with people I enjoyed being around like this was something I hadn’t done in a long time.
Wasn’t the last time during the Eastern Front?
Even though my head was spinning after making and drinking many bombs, I picked up a new glass, thinking that must have been it.
At that moment, Dorothea and Barnett, along with the six ladies, raised their champagne glasses filled with Dom Pérignon high above their heads, their faces flushed red.
I boldly declared,
“Let’s eat until we drop today!”
…That was the last thing I remembered.[[#]]When I opened my eyes, I saw a familiar ceiling.
Apparently, after getting completely wasted last night, someone must have carried me home.
“Ugh… My head…”
Dressed only in my boxers, I shuffled zombie-like downstairs in search of water.
Bubble! Bubble! Bubble!
There was already someone in the kitchen, and I immediately recognized who it was.
“Barnett?”
“Ahh, you’re awake already? Just wait a moment. It’ll be ready soon.”
Turning slightly, Barnett was wearing an apron.
For some reason, without her armor and in casual clothes, she exuded a newlywed vibe.
Perhaps prepared for when Dorothea and I woke up, there was already a bottle of water and glasses on the table, which I gratefully drank.
“Phew….”
Finally, the burning thirst subsided, and I asked Barnett, who was swaying her brown ponytail while cooking,
“You’re surprisingly good at cooking?”
She replied without turning around,
“I’m a woman first. I can at least make simple dishes.”
“Well, considering Dorothea, who turns every dish into charcoal, it’s surprising.”
Dorothea had an extreme approach to cooking—she always cooked on high heat.
I tried giving her advice once or twice when we lived together on the Eastern Front, but seeing that she wouldn’t change, I eventually gave up.
Maybe she intentionally burned everything because she disliked cooking, but only the culprit sleeping upstairs knows the truth.
Not long after we started waiting, Barnett brought out a bowl filled with bright red soup.
I looked at her questioningly at the appearance of this mysterious food, and she confidently explained,
“It’s a vegetable stew with tomatoes as the main ingredient. In my hometown, we cook tomato dishes the morning after drinking to cure hangovers.”
Only then did I realize the red broth was tomato-based, allowing me to relax and take a large spoonful.
“Hmm? It’s delicious?”
“Do you think I’d give you something inedible?”
“No, I’m just surprised your cooking skills are better than I thought.”
Indeed, 300 years old.
It seems she wasn’t just bluffing about her age.
As I looked at her admiringly, Barnett shyly patted my back harder, urging me to eat more.
