Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Otherworld Bar Owner (2)
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Early March, when the gentle spring breeze began to blow in from the southeast.
A new bar opened in the shopping district near a residential complex that could be called relatively affluent in the 13th district, where most residents were commoners and the poor.
A golden sign hung above the door, and a large window faced the street. The interior was finished with warm wood tones, accented here and there with gold. Newspapers covering Lucas Redan's exploits were plastered all over the walls.
Passing the long bar at the front, the corridor took a sharp turn, leading to a space hidden from prying eyes outside the window.
Walking down the modest corridor and opening the soundproofed door revealed chandeliers and expensive tables everywhere.
A space reserved for so-called VIPs.
"The most important part is over here."
I led the unit members down to the basement liquor storage.
"Remember this: 3-3-5, 6-7-7."
Pulling ordinary beer and wine bottles forward on the display shelf in sequence caused the bottles that had been stuck flat to flip over, activating the mechanism.
With a soft whirr, the shelf rotated silently, revealing a secret door.
"Welcome to the hideout."
"Whoa!"
"Impressive."
"So that's why you went out of your way to hire those tight-lipped laborers?"
Everyone muttered something as they peered inside.
The interior was decorated more plainly than expected. Just in case it was discovered, we could pass it off as a staff break room or something.
Stepping into the small room revealed a sofa, armchairs, and a table. There was a sink on one side and a refrigerator too.
"I don't know how the bar will turn out, but securing a hideout was a success, at least."
Richard tossed out words that could have been a blessing or a curse.
"Why do you think I went through all that trouble? You know this space can't be leaked to anyone."
"Of course."
Next, we headed up to the second floor.
"You've seen this before, right? Erika, this is the room where you'll mainly live. It's not too shabby, is it?"
"It's fine. I like it."
We'd remodeled a space resembling a warehouse on the second floor into a studio with an attached bedroom and bathroom. In Korean terms, it was like a commercial-residential building?
Erika, who had eloped in the name of love, had been crashing at the boarding house for nearly a month.
I'd offered far more than a month's rent and politely begged, but Mrs. Schmidt had refused just like with Oscar, saying this wasn't an inn, and let her stay anyway.
Without asking questions or making a fuss.
Honestly, at this point, I felt bad about it, but every time I apologized or thanked her, she just waved it off with a smile.
Damn that Lucas guy. A total deadbeat, but born with a knack for winning people over.
"Daniel or I might crash here sometimes too."
Compared to the lavishly appointed first floor, the plain walls, simple wardrobe, and iron bunk bed looked pretty sparse.
But Erika seemed satisfied. She'd poured every penny she brought from home into me—or rather, into the bar.
As an unofficial investor and partner, she'd helped with the startup preparations.
Buying up the vacant storefront, meeting suppliers one by one to list requirements, signing contracts with the brewery, picking out fixtures...
My feet had blistered from running around for nearly a month, and just recently I'd even caught a cold.
Not Erika, but me, of course.
The bar would have four staff in total.
Me handling overall operations and customer service; Erika and Daniel on serving and admin support; and Amelie as head chef.
Erika had nothing holding her back after running away from everything. Daniel had quit the newspaper without hesitation after they caved to pressure from the 13th district office and removed his name from the articles.
Even if it was intentional, his distrust of the press had only deepened.
After that, he'd been wrapping up the freelance gigs he'd been scraping together.
And finally, Amelie...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Hey, Amel―."
Slap!
"I told you not to come looking for me!"
Uh, this feels like déjà vu.
"Lucas, are you insane? A hero? So you really wanted to be a hero that badly? All that nonsense you blabbered about every day was serious? What were you thinking fighting kidnappers? You almost died!"
Ah, that was it.
I rubbed my stinging cheek and quietly listened to her scolding. I'd done too much wrong to her.
Wasting days on deadbeat crap, sucking her dry, ignoring her worries and pleas while drowning in booze and smokes, and even at intimate moments, spraying spit while praising the Leader...
All stuff that Lucas jerk had done, not me.
'Wow, she fed and housed a guy like that. A saint, a total saint.'
The more I dug into the memories, the more pathetic stories came up, so I decided to stop.
"Are you even listening?!"
"...Yeah. Sorry, Amelie. I've put you through so much every time."
"What? You."
"You were really worried, huh?"
Amelie made a face like she couldn't believe it.
"You keep doing things that make me worry."
The empty dining hall fell silent as she clammed up.
"Amelie, actually, I came today with a proposal."
"What now?"
"Let's be business partners."
"What?!"
I explained carefully, trying not to ruffle her feathers.
"You're going into the liquor business? Do you even know how tough it is? And why quit being a civil servant?"
"Circumstances at the office made it impossible to stay. But I got severance pay as compensation, so I'm trying to start my own business."
"Then why partner with me specifically? What's your ulterior motive?"
"You know me best, as expected."
I chuckled and looked around her bar. Even after all these years, it was still spotless and cozy.
"Even if I learned by watching, it's no match for real experience. You're a veteran, Amelie. If you picked the top 100,000 bar owners, you'd be in the top ten for sure. Even when I was being a pathetic mess and stressing you out, you never let it show to customers or slacked on management.
If you help me, I can relax. Teach me what I need to know. I'll pay tuition. If you want, we can co-manage. Basically, I'd be the investor, and you'd be the madam."
"...You think I'd accept that?"
"Yeah, because you worry about me. Aren't you scared I'll tank the business and end up a bum?"
"Ha!"
Amelie snorted in disbelief, her face stiff.
"Get out, Lucas."
It took a full fifteen days to convince Amelie.
Every day, showing blueprints and business registrations, drawing roadmaps, swearing I'd never touch her, emphasizing over and over that this was purely a business proposition based on instinct, boasting we'd make a fortune...
Finally―
"Hey, Amel―."
"Fine."
Amelie surrendered at last.
"I'll help. You seem a bit more reliable now, so I'll trust you."
"Thanks, Amelie."
"I'm not investing a single coin. I'll just teach some basics and handle the kitchen, got it? And drop the delusion that I'm doing this because I still have feelings for you. Please."
"Naturally."
We signed the contract right there, and Amelie became our bar's head chef.
Of course, still wary of me to the end, she didn't abandon her own place. She put one of her waitresses in charge as madam and commuted to our bar.
"Amelie, just so you know, no women coming on to guys. It's not like your place."
"Lucas, how many times have you explained this bar to me?"
"Oh, and no men either. No drugs. You know?"
"Please shut up."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Spring arrived, and the opening ceremony was held.
Not with wreaths or dance teams like in Korea, though.
"Hero Who Rescued Miss Braithner, Lucas Redan, Retires to Open Bar!"
Thanks to promo articles like that, word had already spread, but today was no-general-customers day.
"Sorry. Official opening is tomorrow, so please come back then."
We politely turned away the crowds. Some lingered at a distance, curiously peeking to see what was up.
Five p.m.
Carriages began pulling up one by one to the wide road in front of the spacious storefront.
"It's been too long!"
"Haha, you've risen in the world!"
Handshakes and hugs exchanged in the empty time before the real guests.
"Wow, you've made it big!"
Friends I'd met while playing house-husband gossiped noisily. Mostly trash like Lucas, but they looked dapper on the outside, so the mood was good.
"Clerk Redan—or should I say Boss Redan now? Thanks for the invite. You look much healthier, glad to see it. Heh heh heh!"
My former boss from the office, Walter Schlick, laughed heartily while eyeing me.
He'd floated a promotion offer gauging my reaction, then visibly relaxed when I handed in the diagnosis and resignation.
"Welcome."
But I greeted him with a bright salesman's smile.
I'm a businessman now.
"Thank you for the invitation. Wishing you prosperity."
Richard handed over his invite with his usual mild expression.
"As my lifesaver, it was only right to invite you. Enjoy yourself."
He was introduced as a doctor I'd bonded with during the kidnapping.
"Welcome."
As Erika appeared to greet guests, the already buzzing atmosphere exploded.
I could see them whispering about my relationship with Erika.
'Tasteless.'
Fawning over a celebrity right in front of someone who'd been through hell.
An unexpected guest showed up too.
"...Redan."
A sturdy man in his thirties stepped down from the carriage, awkwardly clutching his uniform cap.
"Lieutenant Schuster! No, Lieutenant now?"
I ran over with a genuine smile and shook his hand.
Dominic Schuster, the enlistment examiner who'd slotted Lucas into civil service.
Without him, I'd have rotted away even worse, so I owed him thanks.
"Man, I was shocked reading the papers. And now an invite to your sudden bar opening."
"I should've visited to thank you sooner. Sorry. This way, please."
The opening party was a blast.
Under the chandeliers casting gorgeous, warm light, everyone drank and ate heartily.
Music flowed from the phonograph as I mingled with acquaintances.
Daniel ferried the dishes Amelie had slaved over. Richard and Erika were steadily handling their roles amid the crowd.
Card games in one corner, elegant dancing in another.
As the party's energy peaked, a flashy carriage pulled up outside.
The moment a well-groomed, portly gentleman stepped down, I spotted his face through the window and twisted my lips.
"Finally here."
Managing his expression but unable to hide his anger, Emmett Braithner strode in.
"Mr. Braithner."
"Redan."
His invite was crumpled in his fist.
Stepping outside to escape the din, Emmett glared at me, breathing heavily.
"Give me back my daughter."
"What do you...?"
"My daughter Erika, playing madam in there! She left just a single letter saying she loves you and vanished. I hesitated to come hunting you down, but you had the gall to send me an invite to your bar opening. Are you mad? Stop tarnishing me and my daughter's honor—send her back!"
"Is that so. But Miss Braithner came to me to repay a debt. Even if you're her father, she's a full adult, a university-educated intellectual. I can't betray her just because you say so."
"Is that what you call words?!"
He bellowed, unable to hold back. I glanced back—guests were peering out the window with interest.
'Good, spread the rumors. Make it a laughable lovers' quarrel.'
"Redan, even if you saved my daughter―."
Suddenly, a ear-piercing wind roar started.
"Ugh!"
My recently healed eardrums ached again.
"Wh-what?"
Emmett looked around in panic, then his eyes widened at the sky.
Against the evening sunset, a massive creature glided elegantly.
"A dragon!"
Guests and nearby shopkeepers poured out, pointing and shouting.
The dragon, its green scales sparkling in the sunset, grew larger.
"Get out of the wayyy!"
The rider yelled, scattering the crowd in panic. The dragon landed lightly on the road in front of the bar.
A familiar young face jumped from the saddle and removed his goggles.
"Congrats on the opening!"
The air force lieutenant from Oscar's factory, Ian Keller, grinned and waved his invite.