Liquid Bread
Germany.
The plane.
And even after they landed, the drinking continued without a break. No wonder Sora’s mind was floating somewhere between dream and waking.
“Hoo…”
Ordinarily she never would have drunk like this. But the alcohol had simply been too good.
The wine on the flight—hundreds of thousands of won a bottle—was delicious as a matter of course. The beer, though, cost only around five euros. Its satisfaction rivaled the wine.
It was like eating liquid bread.
She had never known beer could be that kind of drink. Wasn’t it something you just knocked back lightly, like water? It carried a heavy, soup-like weight on the tongue, yet it was so smooth and fragrant that it slid down in greedy gulps.
Swaaaaah—!
That was exactly why she had gotten drunk according to her senior’s design. She knew full well why he had talked her into this trip.
If he’d just said “let’s go to the hotel,” I’d have punched him square in the face.
Ulterior motives. From the day they first met he had been pulling every stunt imaginable; nothing about it was new. Surprisingly, though, he was quiet. A little handsy, sure, but they were actually following a proper travel itinerary.
I think the alcohol’s starting to clear.
Warm shower water sharpened her mind. The layout of a sauna was much the same whether you were in Korea or Germany. The local atmosphere was calm enough that it hardly felt foreign—except that everyone was Western.
In a way it’s even comfortable.
Everyone was tall. Her own build no longer stood out. People paid no special attention to tourists. The tension drained away. Before the rest of the trip began, she wanted to soak the fatigue out of every muscle right here.
Creak—!
Finished with her shower, Sora stepped out. Every sign was in a language she couldn’t read, but saunas were saunas.
They’re all pretty much the same.
She simply followed the flow of people and found what she was looking for. Whiiing~! She dried her hair, then smoothed the lotion she had brought over every inch of her skin until it gleamed.
“Is that body lotion?”
“Yes?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, might I try a little? I’m dying to know how your skin stays so smooth.”
She even made friends with the older women. Language barriers dissolved under body language and goodwill.
It’s just ordinary lotion, but they’re crazy about it.
She had her phone. Google Translate handled the simple exchanges.
“Where are you from?”
“Korea.”
“North or South?”
“South, of course.”
The moment she said Korea they lit up, gushing about how fun Korean dramas were and how German ones were simply unwatchable.
Just being polite, I’m sure.
Complex conversation was impossible, so she lent them cosmetics and received German sweets in return. Still, it was fun. She had visited Europe as a child, but talking with locals like this felt entirely different. Thanks to her senior she was collecting experiences she never would have had alone.
Once the sauna was over and they got back, she had planned to at least give him a handjob—
“Something like that happened?”
“Oh, sounds fun.”
“But more importantly—”
“Yeah?”
“Why the hell are you here?”
They had run into each other a little early. He was already sitting casually in the sauna room. If it had been only her senior she would have slapped him across the face, but—
?????
The aunties she had just been chatting with were there. So were the uncles who looked like they belonged with them. Men and women mixed together. The problem was no longer her cocky senior’s presence.
“What is this?”
“Don’t you know mixed bathing?”
“Isn’t that only a Japanese thing?”
“Japan isn’t the only sexually advanced country.”
So that was the kind of place it was. No wonder she had found it suspicious that he was sticking to a perfectly normal itinerary.
Ugh. Of course.
Men and women were separated only through the showers. Sauna and baths were shared.
“Senior, you’re fine with me showing my body to other men?”
“Are you a pervert? Stop being so conscious of it.”
“You real fucking bastard.”
How was she supposed to ignore it? Men walked around completely uncovered, everything dangling. The women too. She was the only one still wrapped in a towel and blushing, which only made her stand out more.
Namu Amitabha…
This was not Korea. Mixed bathing could be ordinary. Being conscious of it meant losing.
“Even in the West there aren’t any tits that can match yours.”
“Want me to sew that mouth shut?”
She simply sat and enjoyed the sauna. The heat was high and muggy; sweat poured out just from sitting still.
The alcohol’s clearing fast.
Her foggy mind snapped back into focus—and the moment it did, the surroundings started bothering her for an entirely different reason. Looking closer, it wasn’t only middle-aged men. Young couples were there too.
“Lasers are about to shoot out of your eyes.”
“Shut up.”
She was just curious. In the stock market people always compared big green candles to the size of a man’s cock.
White cocks are big. Oh, there’s a black one too. Any horse cocks around?
Now she understood exactly why that culture existed. Seeing it with her own eyes made everything click.
Sauna.
A place you absolutely have to visit at least once when you come to Germany.
You might think, what’s the difference from Korea?
Heaven and earth. Korea is a hundred years behind the sexually advanced countries.
“Why do you like it more than I do?”
“I don’t particularly like it.”
“You fucking love it.”
Because it was mixed bathing. Japanese mixed baths were full of grandmothers; German ones regularly featured young women.
Surprisingly not that much to look at.
The sauna room was dim. No one was striking sexy poses, so it wasn’t especially arousing. Only Sora, who was deeply interested in cock size, had sparkling eyes. He hadn’t expected her to enjoy it so openly.
“Senior, you bragged about your cock size but it’s nothing special.”
“Hey, Western cocks don’t get any bigger even when they’re hard.”
“Nyeeh-nyeeh~.”
Good thing they had come. If they had skipped the sauna he would have heard snide remarks later.
“Where are you two from? Japan? China?”
The uncle beside them struck up a conversation. Sora, conscience pricking, jumped.
Smaller than mine.
In that case it was fine to keep the curious neighborhood uncle company.
“We’re from Korea. Do you know kimchi?”
“Kimchi?”
“It’s like spicy sauerkraut.”
“Oh~!”
Sauerkraut was Germany’s kimchi—shredded cabbage salted and fermented. It really did share a lot with kimchi, which was why it suited German palates so well.
“I’d love to try spicy sauerkraut sometime!”
“I brought some. Want a taste?”
“That would be wonderful! Then I’ll invite you both to our house.”
Pride in traditional food. No country’s people lacked it. Honestly, he still thought kimchi was better.
Scientifically speaking, it’s far tastier.
Kimchi was the only fermented food in which plant-based and animal-based fermentation happened at the same time. Its umami was twice that of danmuji, paocai, or sauerkraut.
“What is he saying?”
“Excuse me—is this young lady your girlfriend?”
“This is my sex friend, Sora. Hey, say hello.”
“G-Guten Tag?”
He translated for Sora, who spoke no German. The couple looked a little surprised but nodded and accepted it.
Germans have a reputation for being uptight.
Yet, as mixed bathing showed, their sexual culture was quite open. At least they weren’t Confucian prudes like Koreans.
They left the sauna. True to the German habit of keeping promises, they really were invited home.
“Senior, how exactly did you introduce me?”
“Why?”
“The uncle and auntie keep looking at me weird…”
“Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
It was a solid two-story house. A little worn, but the years had settled into it with a heavy, antique dignity.
This level means they’re doing pretty well in Germany.
Middle class or better. A house like this might even have the thing he had been hoping for.
Glug-glug-glug~!
They opened with beer. The host clearly had a good eye; it was nothing ordinary.
“Wow… the color is pitch black.”
“Young lady, first time with a stout?”
“This kid has never done anything for the first time.”
Imperial stout. Literally, a thick black beer. Not merely dark—ink-black.
Still, Steam Brew is easy to drink. 7.5 percent ABV and only 23 IBU.
Anything over 8 percent was the usual rule. Bitterness measured by IBU often climbed past 50.
“Khh~! This is bitter.”
“But good, right?”
“Yes! Strong coffee flavor and roasted bean aroma.”
If regular black beer was an americano, this was espresso.
The serious ones don’t lose to espresso at all.
It tasted like carefully brewed coffee. Watching Sora enjoy it so thoroughly, the host couple looked thoroughly pleased.
“The kimchi is delicious too!”
“It would go great with Schweinshaxe…”
“Actually, in Korea we eat it with jokbal as well.”
Schweinshaxe—roasted pork knuckle. The skin was shatteringly crisp, a completely different pleasure from jokbal.
Honestly I like this better than jokbal.
A piece of kimchi on top cut the richness and made every bite slide down easily. The couple copied them. Homemade kimchi could be hit-or-miss, but convenience-store kimchi was mild enough that foreigners accepted it without trouble.
“How did you end up in Germany?”
“If you’re coming to Europe there are plenty of other countries, right?”
“I like beer. If I’m going to drink beer, it has to be Germany, doesn’t it?”
“Oh~!”
“This friend knows a thing or two.”
A little national-pride flattery and they were fast friends. He had successfully won the couple over.
Truth is, German beer has already started its decline.
Weihenstephan was excellent. Steam Brew was a solid brewery too. Beyond them the world was full of daring breweries. Even so, Germany was still a country worth visiting. He hadn’t chosen it as their first destination for nothing.
“Senior, at this level I’ve finally learned the taste of beer, right?”
“Just because your asshole’s open, that make you a sex master?”
“I’m confident I can squeeze every drop out of yours.”
Sora, drunk again, grinned slyly. The world of alcohol was nowhere near that simple.
It’s not that you don’t know the taste. You have to drink more. That isn’t what this is about.
It was deep—literally. Deep enough that ordinary people never even learned it existed. This might be a chance to glimpse a fragment of it.
“Thank you so much for the wonderful hospitality.”
“The kimchi was delicious too.”
“Better than sauerkraut, I think?”
“But there’s something I’ve always wanted to try just once…”
Korea was a country whose traditional liquor lineage had been severed. In the Joseon era it had been different.
Every household used to have at least one family recipe.
In other countries those traditions sometimes survived. Germany was one of them.
“Do you happen to have any lambic?”
“Lambic?”
“A Korean who knows lambic?”
The prototype of beer. Germany’s true traditional liquor.