Cocktails for the Vampire Boss
After wrapping up the sandwich business, I headed to the bar Morgana had mentioned.
"This place is off-limits to imps and dogs, you know?"
"I've come to serve the witch her drink."
"...Come in."
Imps seem to have a pretty bad reputation as a species.
For starters, they're known for being money-grubbing, and there's even a saying that they'll stab you in the back before calling you family—trust level is rock bottom.
And above all, it's because they look like incubi.
...Now that I think about it, incubi get treated worse than imps even though they don't do anything wrong.
Talk about unfair. The biggest reason imps get discriminated against is because they resemble incubi? That's ridiculous.
"The boss is in the back."
Even as an imp, if you're connected to the boss, you get treated with respect. I was led to a prepared room and entered, removing my fedora.
"Oh? An imp who actually keeps his promises. I was planning to hunt you down and rip off that tail if you ran."
"Haha... just kidding."
The room was thick with cigarette smoke that greeted me as I entered. Amid the haze sat the mafia boss I'd seen before, Morgana Bloodveil.
Her eyes glintedly through the white smoke, sending chills down my spine. Ugh... this woman could stuff me in a drum and toss me into the ocean with a single word.
"Sit down first. Let's hear that info you brought me."
With that, Morgana slid a glass filled to the brim with cocktail toward me.
...Does she not realize this much booze would be fatal for my size?
"I put a lot of sincerity into it, so don't hold back—drink up."
"Yessir..."
An offer I couldn't refuse.
"Well... it's minor info, but I found out Rasca Slovenia's hobby."
"A hobby? Interesting."
"Yes, Rasca's hobby is taking naps!"
I knew it too—absolutely jack shit intel. If this didn't satisfy her and she flipped out, how should I react?
"You, despite appearances..."
"Eek!"
"...turned out to be a capable informant?"
Huh? What was that?
"Naps, huh. I figured werewolves sleep a lot by nature, but I didn't know it was her hobby. Fascinating info. We could exploit that weakness."
"Ahaha..."
"Really good stuff. Bring more like this from now on. I'll pay handsomely."
Morgana reached into her suit's front pocket—aka the space on those massive tits—and pulled out a stack of bills, placing them on the table.
Holy shit, how much is this?
As my eyes bulged, Morgana smirked leisurely.
"Typical imp—goes crazy at the sight of money."
"Thank you!"
I'm not an imp, but more money is always better. That's my ironclad rule.
I pocketed the bills carefully and downed the whiskey Morgana poured in one go.
"Grrrh..."
The buzz hit hard. But contrary to her words, it was shitty booze.
I know next to nothing about liquor, but I could tell this was bottom-shelf crap.
Rough burn going down, with a nauseating industrial alcohol aftertaste creeping up. And that charcoal bitterness spreading everywhere! She fed this to me? I was in a good mood a minute ago, but now I'm pissed.
"Good stuff, right? We made it ourselves."
America during Prohibition was mafia paradise, they say. Seeing them proudly peddle this crap, it sure feels like one.
I want to gargle with soju.
As the foul taste spread in my mouth, Morgana's expression cooled.
"What's with that look? Don't tell me my booze tastes bad."
"N-No!"
"Even a cheap palate should recognize this as good. Or is it so subpar you'd hesitate to call it trash?"
Subpar is your booze!
For some reason, her pride in liquor was sky-high.
"Sorry! But this booze is..."
"This booze is?"
"I-It seems a bit lacking."
I decided on a direct approach. People like her blow up more if you beat around the bush.
"If you're gonna criticize, you better suggest improvements too. Tell me how to make this booze better."
Hmm. Ways to salvage this bottom-shelf bourbon? Trash bin or... use as cocktail base.
Come to think of it, does this world even have cocktails?
None!
So none.
"I know a way to make this fine booze even tastier. If you give me orange juice and lemon..."
"You know what happens if you mess with a vampire's booze? I could rip into your neck till it flops."
What a terrifying threat. And knowing she could actually do it made my body shrink instinctively.
"You... that scared face is kinda cute. Your pale neck would show my bite marks nice and clear."
"Eep."
How do you handle a woman like this?
"Th-This isn't mocking the booze—it's to make it tastier."
"Tastier? Ha!"
"C-Can't I?"
"Fine, I'll give you a shot. Everyone deserves a chance, right?"
How did it come to this? Why am I serving cocktails to a vampire?
Got no choice but to do it.
To survive. For real.
Good thing I know a bit about making cocktails.
Life really throws curveballs where random skills save your ass.
Anyway, why did she flip out over her booze sucking?
Vampires revere liquor like a religion. It's the second-most consumed liquid after blood.
Just as mixing anything into blood taints its purity, adding anything that ruins a booze's flavor enrages vampires!
...Talk about quick response. What's with the lag fix? Needs an update or something.
"Let's get started then."
The first-ever life-on-the-line cocktail making. No confidence. Especially not in satisfying her.
Morgana saw her booze as a work of art.
Even if it was just moonshine, she'd poured every effort into making sure it didn't get called cheap.
You know how much money I sank into making this?
Bribes to dodge raids, facilities—it cost a fortune.
The result was this "moons hine," a "perfect" corn-based whiskey that dared not be insulted.
Morgana glared at the little imp with her red eyes, thinking.
If it tastes even a little off, I'll strip him naked and humiliate him.
Of course, she wouldn't kill him. Killing over booze blasphemy was absurd.
She just wanted to give Asmodeus some mental trauma.
"It's done."
Morgana scowled. The cocktail ingredients were insane.
"What a joke of a drink. Orange juice, lemon... even egg? You made garbage. If you're insulting my tongue, prepare yourself."
The drink Asmodeus made was the Libertine, a staple from his old world alongside the Manhattan—bitter yet sweet, bourbon-based.
The faint orange scent as she lifted the glass pissed her off a bit, and she vowed to punish him physically.
"...Hm?"
But as it slid down her throat, those thoughts vanished.
Overwhelming sweetness that enhanced the booze's flavor... the egg white added perfect aroma, boosting satisfaction.
All vampires loved noble airs. Morgana was no exception.
This impure booze...
True liquor should only have water, ingredients, and yeast—nothing else.
Orange and egg white? Utter blasphemy, impure filth.
"How's the taste?"
"...Hmph."
Morgana had drained the glass before she knew it, exhaling deeply as she glared with red eyes.
"Your drink isn't bad, but it's lacking in too many ways. Not saying it's awful—just needs feedback."
Her next words made Asmodeus's heart sink.
"Come here after closing and make booze from now on."
My work hours just got longer out of nowhere.