Chapter 75: The King of Wine
After the grapes started producing, we'd tried making wine several times. Everyone managed to brew something decent enough, but nothing that was outright delicious.
Fortunately, one of the Gapyeong locals used to run a brewery, and after acquiring the Brewing skill, he'd leveled it up by churning out massive quantities of alcohol. Thanks to that, the orcs practically worshipped him as a god. They went absolutely nuts for it. The makgeolli, clear rice wine, and soju made from our gate's ingredients were out-of-this-world good—even I, who hardly ever drinks, had to admit it.
Once he hit level 9, he shifted his focus to wine. Mr. Choi figured it'd make him a fortune. You can't really rake in big money from makgeolli, clear wine, or soju, after all. But wine? If it gets the nod from sommeliers, that's a whole different story. The incredible flavor, plus the effect of breaking down body fat. The same effect carried over when turned into wine, too—but only at level 9 quality. To me, that was plenty marketable, but Mr. Choi wasn't satisfied.
And now, he'd finally maxed out his Brewing skill and unveiled his masterpiece wine.
By the time I arrived at Mr. Choi's brewery, the villagers were already there in droves—especially the hardcore drinkers, who wouldn't miss this for the world.
"Lord!" Mr. Choi called out to me.
"Yeah, I heard the wine was ready?"
"Was just waitin' on you, m'lord. Told 'em I wouldn't serve till you had the first taste, but these lushes were raisin' hell."
The elders treat me like a grandson, but they've fully embraced my identity as lord. So they dote on me like family while still respecting me as the territory's top authority. Holding off on the reveal until I sampled it was a perfect example.
"Better taste it quick before they chew me out."
"You got it." Mr. Choi poured a splash into a wine glass. He looked more like the type to pour makgeolli, but the man was a brewing artisan through and through.
I swirled the glass like I'd seen on TV, took a whiff, gave it a few expert twirls—for reasons I couldn't quite explain—and then took a small sip.
Flash.
No joke, it was so good my eyes practically popped open.
"Whoa, this..."
◈ Wine fermented from red grapes grown on the island.
◈ A brew by a brewer at the pinnacle of his craft—its taste and aroma worthy of the title King of Wines.
◈ Continuous consumption accumulates mana in the body.
"The gate's calling it the King of Wine. And it says continuous consumption builds up mana in the body... Guess we'll have to see what that means."
Humans inherently have mana in their bodies—though it's called by many names, and very few can sense it, let alone see it. The ki of ancient lore? That's mana too. So what did it mean for this wine to accumulate it? And how much? Hard to say. But if the system dubbed it the King of Wine, the taste was a done deal.
"Whoa, this is insanely good."
"Délicieux."
"Crazy bastards, speak proper Korean when you're sober—now you're slurrin' in dialect like some Gyeonggi hicks."
That was the trio known as the Drunkard Brothers—Gapyeong natives who only broke out the dialect after a few drinks. Utterly hilarious guys, though. They never overdid it, either; that was their ironclad rule. Everyone loved them for it. Even my dad joined in, and soon they had a full-blown drinking party going.
Wine wasn't meant to be chugged like that, but whatever—who cared? If my people were happy, that was enough.
Then someone put the brakes on: Seon-woo's dad.
"Hold up! Let's set some aside to sell first."
"Don't you worry, boss. That whole row of barrels over there? All wine. Sell those off. Just make sure they fetch a good price."
"Choi, relax. I'll get top dollar for ya."
Listening to them, I chimed in. "Better to sell through my company boss. That'd be the way to go."
"Eh? Why bother?"
"Figure it'll go for at least a million won a bottle."
Mr. Choi's jaw dropped. "Th-this stuff's worth that much?"
"King of Wine, right? I hear Romanée-Conti goes for over ten million a pop. A king? At least a million. Once word gets out, probably more."
"Then leave it to you, m'lord."
"Sure, but save half for our villagers. No rush to flood the market."
"Told ya not to fret. That's all wine in there."
Rough count: fifty oak barrels at least. Our gate specialized in mass production. Hooray for that.
The orcs specializing in glassworking. I sketched a design for them and asked them to replicate it exactly—after demonstrating one myself. What I made was a bottle shaped like an upside-down cluster of grapes. My plan: make this the signature for Siho Territory wine. The bottle itself a luxury item.
Ten bottles complete, plus wooden crates crafted by the carpenters. All handmade, start to finish. I took them out of the gate.
Lately, Hoya had taken to following me everywhere—some new whim, I guess. So off we went to the company, Hoya in tow.
With an appointment already set, I headed straight to the boss's office. A few employees spotted me on the way up, eyeing me with envy. Word was out: I was a gate owner, and everything I'd sold came from my gate. No point hiding it anymore, so I brushed it off.
They all hit me with the usual "Come visit sometime!"—the corporate equivalent of "Let's grab a bite sometime."
Exchanging greetings, I entered the office. The boss and the manager welcomed me.
"Come on in. What's this new treasure you've brought?"
The manager's eyes sparkled. The boss was playing it cool, but clearly eager.
"First off, a gift for you two." I set two bottles of Siho wine in front of them.
"Fancy packaging already?" the boss noted.
Of course. Boxes made from our island's fragrant cedarwood. I'd worried the scent might clash with the wine, but it didn't—in fact, the subtle aroma enhanced it perfectly. That's why cedar.
"Boxes from our gate. But the real star's inside, right?"
The boss nodded and carefully lifted out a bottle. Helena had refined the final design, elevating it far beyond my original sketch into true luxury.
"Whoa, the color's insane. Wine this time?" The manager's eyes went wide.
"Yep. Not just any wine. The King of Wine itself."
"You know wine ain't easy to make, right?" the boss asked.
"Obviously. But when a max-level Brewing skill makes it? That's another story."
Gates could generate skills. A maxed Brewing? Worth trusting.
"Too good to waste on tasting. Open yours."
"Bro, that the thanks I get for handing you the company?"
The manager's jab made the boss grunt, but he uncorked it anyway. Their eyes bulged.
Both were wine enthusiasts from wealthy families—they'd tasted plenty of high-end stuff. That's why I'd brought it to them.
"Here goes." They poured into glasses, inhaled the aroma, sipped.
Their eyes widened impossibly further.
"Remember that Romanée-Conti last year?"
"How could I forget? But this... honestly, it's better."
"Yeah. Thought 'King of Wine' was just hype from Choi here, but no."
The boss eyed me. "Choi."
"Yes?"
"How much stock we talkin'?"
"I'll control supply. Rarity's key..."
"Too much, and it loses value. But first run, say a hundred bottles?"
"Easy."
"Price?"
I pondered. "Minimum ten million a bottle."
"Ten mil... Solid choice."
I'd said one million. He jumped it tenfold.
"Trusting us with this?"
"Yeah. Selling it myself would be a headache."
"Wouldn't dream of it. I'll make it happen."
"Got a few more bottles here—share with close contacts. This one's for actor Park Sung-hwan."
"Ah, Sung-hwan's been bugging me to set up a meet."
"Eh, do we need to?"
"Good to let people show gratitude. Kid's thriving again thanks to you."
Park Sung-hwan was on fire these days. Mastering action roles had reclaimed his spot.
"Fine, let's meet then."
"He's got a party tonight—perfect. I'll call ahead. Lots of actresses, too."
"Uh, sure."
My deadpan response drew a look. "You don't..."
"No! I like women! Love 'em, really."
Lately, I'd heard that joke too damn much. Borderline neurosis.
"Plus, you'll meet the only celebrity gate owner there."
"That actress with the Jeju Gate?"
"Yep. Buddies with Sung-hwan."
Now I was curious. Party it was.
"What should I even wear?"
"Don't sweat it—I'll hook you up. Hoya coming too?"
Hoya shot me a look.
Nyaa!Obviously.
"Says yes. My bodyguard."
"They allow pets, so no issue."
"Cool. I'll grab some wine to bring."
"Even better. Free promo."
And so, party-bound. With the boss's help, I got suited up, hair done. They tried styling Hoya too—ambitiously—but gave up. Hoya wasn't having it.
I rode the boss's prepped car to Park Sung-hwan's villa, tonight's venue. Stepping out with Hoya, I spotted a massive dog growling from across the way.
Hoya, perched on my shoulder, eyed it with utter disdain.
"Yeppe! No!"
Yeppe. That hulking beast was named Yeppe. Questionable sanity on the owner.
Then a woman straight out of a painting—stunning—bowed apologetically. "Sorry. She's not usually like this with strangers."
Interesting. This polite beauty owned the Jeju Gate.