Orichalcum (8) - The Beer Festival Hustle
We clomped along. We left the witch’s mansion in high spirits. The method had been a bit strange, but we had secured passage on a ship. One less thing to worry about.
“Now it’s really just sightseeing!” We shouted as we returned to Cudseus. Past lunchtime, the streets had grown crowded. The thick reek of sweat made Veronica clamp a hand over her mouth. Our bicorn girl, hwaiting!
“Let’s take a quieter path. We still have two whole days. No need to rush.” Franc took Veronica’s hand, her voice soft and reassuring.
Dana, who had been poking at the wallet tucked inside her coat like she feared pickpockets, let out a sigh. “Might as well. Even for a trade city, there are way too many people.”
“It’s because the Bijo-fest is coming up soon,” a dwarf pedestrian cut in out of nowhere.
The dwarf was so short and stocky I almost thought he was invisible. He was even shorter than Franc, so he had to be pure-blooded.
“Bijo-what now?”
“Bijo-fest. The beer festival.”
“Oh! Is it already that time of year?” Franc’s eyes sparkled. The dwarf nodded with solemn dignity.
As expected from a race of drunkards, they seemed to achieve perfect unity through beer alone.
“Indeed. That’s why I came all the way from Nidavellir. This festival is the perfect chance to taste beers from all over the world, isn’t it?”
“I’ve only heard stories… But it is autumn, right after harvest season.”
“Exactly. Brewmasters from every corner of the globe bring their beer to be judged in Germania, the homeland of beer. There are already over a hundred varieties!”
The dwarf rattled on like an otaku who had just met a fellow nerd after transferring schools. He stroked his chin after shouting in Britannian.
“Krr! I’m already salivating. That black-haired young lady looks like a half. Not interested in the Bijo-fest?”
“No! I am! It’s just… well…”
Franc, who had answered cheerfully, glanced at my face. What the hell. Usually the husband is the one who wants something and has to beg his wife for permission. Why is it the complete opposite in our family?
Still, if Franc wanted it, I couldn’t exactly say no. I exchanged glances with Dana and nodded. Damn it, her eyes were sparkling too. These booze-loving wives of mine. I’d have to keep a close watch.
“Let’s look around. If we finish our work before the festival starts—”
“Really?!” She looked like a puppy that had just heard a snack bag rip open. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t have a tail.
“But if you get drunk, it’s over. If your tongue starts slurring, I’m dragging you home.”
“Ugh. I-I’ll try to hold back.”
“Ahaha♡! Sis, come on. You can’t just will away a buzz.”
“Larilura’s right. Franc, drink in moderation,” Dana said, sounding like a doctor delivering test results.
Even though Dana’s liver probably broke down alcohol twice as fast as anyone else’s, her warning carried zero weight.
“……Ah.”
We kept walking, diligently planning out the final stretch of our trip, when Veronica suddenly stopped in front of a stall selling cat mascots. Naturally, the rest of our party stopped too.
It seemed that even in this world, tourists buying souvenirs was common sense.
“Let’s check it out!”
“Ah, um. Sure.”
The ever-bright Larilura skipped ahead to the stall. It was a tiny painted doll shaped like a cat statue, roughly the size of a large stamp.
Welcome! This is Cudseus’s famous cat statue of Lady Freya! Take a look!
The stall owner rubbed her hands together as she spoke. Veronica, who loved cats, was about to ignore the sales pitch until she heard the name Freya. She blinked.
Lady Freya’s cat?
Oh, you don’t know Lady Freya? She’s the goddess of beauty from Germania myth, as lovely as you, miss! Her chariot is pulled by cats. There’s a legend about it here in Cudseus too!
The woman launched into a long-winded folk tale while explaining the statue’s value.
Veronica listened with perked ears, as if intrigued, then cleared her throat.
“…Ahem. I have no interest in the admiration of the opposite sex, but safe travels does sound appealing. How much?”
“Normally eight coppers each, but I’ll be generous! To cheer on a lovely young lady’s romance, I’ll let it go for seven!”
“I-I never said anything about romance! Eight coppers, was it? Wait right there.”
Fuck. Seven coppers? I had been listening quietly, but when Veronica reached for her wallet I nearly jumped out of my skin and stopped her.
“Wait a second. These statues are eight coppers each?”
“That’s why I knocked one off for you, didn’t I?”
Look at this auntie’s greedy little eyes. She glared at me like I was the problem, exactly like those vicious old ladies back home who sold foraged herbs and ginkgo nuts at the village market.
“Young man, is money really an issue when buying a souvenir? You’re purchasing the memory of having visited this place.”
When my reaction turned sour, the stall auntie began spitting out every excuse in the book.
“Memory?” Veronica tilted her head at the cat statue. She probably found the human custom of leaving visible mementos strange, but right now that wasn’t the fucking issue. This woman’s eyes had gone bloodshot trying to rip us off.
“I only make a living for one season. You look like you’ve got plenty of money. Do you really have to squeeze us common folk like rats?”
“No, why are you charging us extra for our own memories?”
“If you don’t like it, don’t buy it. What can I do? I’m not forcing you. A man can be frugal in front of his girlfriend, can’t he?”
“Shut the fuck up and take my money!! Five for thirty-five coppers, cash on the barrel!!”
“Calm the hell down, you crazy husband.”
My machismo thoroughly provoked, I opened my wallet only for Dana to yank my collar.
Fuck! That auntie just called me a broke-ass cheapskate!!
Dana held back my shouting and stepped forward instead.
“Seven coppers each seems a bit high, doesn’t it? Half price at four coppers feels fair.”
“This young lady is going straight for half off. Does it pain you to see your husband spend money on her?”
“Hey, Nord!! Open the damn wallet!! I’ll pay you back with my body if I have to!!”
“Our Dana has lost her mind. Why are you getting one-shot by the provocation?”
Don’t say you’ll pay with your body, you crazy woman. I get that you’re too embarrassed to say you’ll repay me with love, but that wording sounds terrible to outsiders.
I calmed the rationality-deprived Dana and we temporarily retreated. Damn it, this neighborhood vendor-looking auntie must have dumped every skill point into her silver tongue. Our married PhD couple had both caught fire with shopping lust. Larilura couldn’t follow the Germania haggling so she was out. Now the only one we could trust was Franc.
—Pitter-patter. As if sensing my thoughts, Franc dashed to the stall.
“Ma’am. This cat statue isn’t made of Zenbril wood, is it?”
“Uh, um?”
Franc had spotted something with her sharp eye and pointed it out. The auntie, who had been ignoring all our logic, showed panic for the first time. Had she been hit on a sore spot?
Before the woman could make an excuse, Franc pointed at the tag on the stall.
“According to the product label you wrote, if it were Zenbril wood I could understand five or six coppers. But the wood these cats are carved from looks like cheap miscellaneous timber, doesn’t it?”
“D-do you have proof? You can’t just say that without evidence!”
“Shall I call the guards? You do know that falsifying product information is a serious crime under Germania law, right? Also, as you can see, I’m a dwarf.”
“Ugh……”
There seemed to be some insider circumstances we didn’t know about. The auntie slammed the table.
“Tch. I’m done, done! I’ll give them for three coppers each, but don’t go spreading this around!”
“How about two?”
“……Tsk! Just take them!!”
The merchant whose origin labeling had been exposed quickly dumped the goods at one-third the original price. Was tourist-trap price gouging real? A miracle that turned eight coppers into three. The rage virus inside me grew majestic. If I weren’t the head of the household I wouldn’t have held back. Selling carvings that cost less than two coppers for ten! This wasn’t the Noryangjin fish market; if you didn’t know any better you’d get screwed.
“Look at these cat faces. They look so damn cheap.”
“That’s part of the charm, I think.”
“As long as they’re cute, right?”
And so our trio of suckers squatted together and shared the bitter cup of defeat. Larilura, who couldn’t cross the language barrier, suffered a default loss. Fuck, look at that shitty cat’s smug face. It looked so punchable I wanted to flick its forehead.
“Doesn’t it look like our husband?”
No it doesn’t, you lab ghost.
“Ah, excuse me, guard? That stall auntie is committing fraud with her product materials.”
“Pardon? False product information?”
While she was at it, Franc thoroughly finished the job. The guard called a colleague with appraisal skills, verified everything in three minutes, and dragged the auntie away.
“Aaaagh!! Everyone, look! The guards are arresting an innocent person!!”
“Be quiet and come along. You are under on-site arrest for product information fraud.”
“I didn’t make those!! I just received delivery!!”
“Anyone can tell they’re from the Sculptor’s Guild. Your crime is falsifying the product tag.”
“You can treat citizens like this?! Your salary comes from our taxes!!”
“So does the food you’ll eat in prison.”
Kicking and screaming, the con artist was dragged off and her stall shut down. The way they handled things around here was damn clean.
“……The human world is complicated.”
Veronica watched the con-artist auntie receive her dose of justice as if observing some curious natural phenomenon. She stroked the cat statue, then gave Franc a polite bow.
“Thank you, Franc. I will cherish it.”
“Hehe, it’s nothing. It’d be awful to remember getting ripped off every time you look at the souvenir.”
Franc smiled and touched her own hair.
“Next let’s stop by a fabric shop. I think I need to buy new ties for my hair.”
“Germania fabrics☆! Sounds fun! Let’s go!”
—Hop!
With Larilura’s approval as well, no one objected. At the fabric shop we visited right away, Franc picked out several hair ties.
“Franc. Come here. I’ll tie it for you.”
“Okay!”
Franc looked ridiculously happy even though it was nothing special. I gathered her hair—which always felt wonderfully soft no matter when I touched it—and tied it with a ribbon. The rich texture enchanted even me. Franc covered her mouth with her hair and laughed.
“Nord. How does it look? Does it suit me?”
“Why even ask? Of course it’s pretty. Our Franc is insanely cute.”
I pulled her into my arms. No matter how many times I hugged her, the fluffy softness made me never want to let go.
“But don’t be too cute. If other guys start staring I’ll get annoyed.”
“Hehehe.”
Maybe because this world hadn’t developed cheesy compliments yet, Franc was overjoyed even by my pathetic engineering-major praise. I grinned like an idiot too. So that’s why couples in the world say cringy things.
“Senior, senior! How do I look♡?”
At that moment Larilura took off her straw hat and styled her hair in twin tails. It suited her bright personality surprisingly well… except they were pink twin tails.
“……Hey, Larilura. Say ‘shit—’ for me.”
“Shit—!”
“Yeah. It does suit you, but never mind. Forget it.”
“Tch—”
Larilura undid the hairstyle while preserving the rhyme. I was chuckling when someone awkwardly tugged my clothes from behind. I turned around to see Dana attempting the twin-tail challenge.
“………………Wow.”
“Wow my ass.”
Dana had somehow forced her short hair into twin tails. Her usually cool face muscles were twitching wildly; she clearly knew the style didn’t suit her. I pondered my answer as carefully as a stomach-ulcer patient choosing his first meal after six months in the hospital.
“……Big sis. Would you prefer the honest review or the flattery?”
“……Thanks for the consideration, you son of a bitch.”
Dana quickly undid the twin tails. Why the hell doesn’t this world have cameras? I should have taken a picture and preserved it for generations.
Honestly, twin-tail Dana could be considered daughter-tier material.
It was practically obscene. The way she blushed and tried to look pretty while hoping I’d like it! My wife’s blind love and lack of sense made my dick almost spit fire for the first time in a while.
“Give me this one, this one, and that one too.”
While I was controlling my corpus cavernosum, Veronica was also buying ribbons. The shop owner here had a conscience, so we didn’t need to haggle.
“Are you tying your hair too, Veronica?”
“Yes. I tie it in a ponytail when doing research. Besides, our clan often attaches strings or ornaments to our horns.”
A bicorn custom, huh. Different races really did have unexpected traits. Tying something to a horn was easy enough to imagine.
“……Did you just think I would look like a horse with its tail tied if I bound my hair?”
“How the fuck did you know that?”
Where had my poker face gone? My wives could read every thought anyway, so getting caught by Larilura or Veronica felt strangely refreshing.
When I showed admiration, Veronica narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Your pupils cloud over when you have rude thoughts. If I watch you long enough I can tell everything.”
“Then why the hell do you stare at my face so intently?”
“………………It seems we’ve bought everything we need. Shall we go?”
Answer me, you wench. Veronica fled while upholding her right to remain silent even though we weren’t on Earth. In the end I never got an answer, but I could more or less guess why, so I let it slide.
Because what we were about to do was that important.
Swimsuits… There is only swimsuits…
A beach trip on a southern island with my peerless beautiful brides! There was no way I could miss the chance to see my wives in swimsuits!
“Husband, you go home now. This is girls-only from here.”
“Huh?”
I had been planning to follow Franc and Dana into the swimsuit shop to watch their sexy fashion show, but the moment swimsuits were mentioned Dana drew the line.
“Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?”
“Throwing a tantrum won’t work. Go back. Just sit at home sucking your thumb until we reach the island.”
“But whyyy!! I don’t care even if noona’s tits are small!!”
“You fucking bastard, you’ve been crossing the line all day?!”
I got beaten by an enraged Dana, but every man has a dream he cannot abandon even if his wife hits him with a back-smash.
When I glared in protest, Dana clicked her tongue.
“Ah, fine. If you want to waste your time, follow us.”
Waste of time? How could looking at my wives in swimsuits possibly be a waste of time! I firmly agreed with Dana’s words and followed them all the way to the store.
We apologize. Our store does not allow male customers.
I got cut off at the entrance. No males allowed! Fuck, in Britannia you could let a macho man with a Kaiser mustache into a women’s underwear guild shop!
“Why? Why not? Why is it forbidden? Why?”
“It’s the law, so no matter how much you complain…”
This country really is a barbaric nation. No rebuttal accepted.