Chapter 143

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 143

Chapter Title: Cocktail

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Not long after Miranda and I started drinking, the tavern owner appeared to apologize.

"Um, sir. I'm sorry, but we're completely out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of alcohol right now..."

"Out of booze at a tavern?"

"Well, today of all days, so many dwarves showed up..."

Glancing around the tavern after hearing the owner out, there were definitely more dwarves than usual. And every one of them had dozens of bottles lined up, chugging away.

"...Yeah, I can see why you'd run out."

In the end, Miranda and I had no choice but to head outside.

"...So, what now? Call it a night?"

"Tch... Still not enough. Got time?"

Miranda, apparently unsatisfied, dragged me around to nearby taverns. But the others were either packed with dwarves or already closed for the night.

Our final choice was...

"Haa... On a day like this, we should've drunk outside."

"We did drink, though."

As we picked out bottles in a shop in the commercial district, Miranda let out a sigh. Still, today was a happy day for her, so I promised to stick it out to the end. That's how we ended up selecting booze together.

'...Huh? This?'

While choosing, some items caught my eye, so I tossed them into our haul too.

"What's with those? Snacks? Ice is nice, but..."

"Just wait."

And so, with the booze Miranda picked, the stuff I chose, and various other ingredients, we headed to her workshop.

The moment we arrived, Miranda popped open a bottle and sighed again.

"Should've reserved ahead... Got so busy making gear, I didn't realize the dwarves would all go out drinking as a group today."

"It's your people's festival, after all."

I still didn't get why just getting their work judged without any other events qualified as a festival... but whatever, it was their culture, so I'd roll with it.

Instead, for the slightly disappointed-looking Miranda, I pulled out something from the earlier shop.

"So, why'd you buy that stuff? Limes and lemons aren't great as snacks. And we have plenty of glasses here—why buy two?"

"Tsk tsk. Just wait. It's my special winner's congratulatory gift."

I brushed off her concerns, set out the strainer and cap—what you'd call a 'shaker'—and lined up the bottles beside it.

"First... something beginner-friendly: how about a margarita?"

Heard of cocktails?

"...Delicious. What is this?"

Miranda eyed the cocktail I poured with suspicion at first, but as I whipped up various ones, her eyes went wide, and she downed glass after glass.

'This is unexpected.'

I was flustered too, making them.

I'd only grabbed the shaker because the booze shop had one—purely for fun during drinks. My experience? Just roughly copying YouTube videos back on Earth. Amateur level, basically...

'No way it levels up.'

Out of nowhere, [Cooking] skill leveled up, letting me mix cocktails with pro-level proficiency.

Of course, I needed recipes, but recalling a few from YouTube back on Earth and approximating got the job done. Miranda, experiencing cocktails for the first time, raved about every one and drank happily.

"How do you do it?"

"So, this big cup is called a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strainer. Putting ice in first or later makes a difference..."

Miranda got hooked on the mixing itself, asked for recipes, and started making her own.

'Cola would be great too.'

But I prefer simple Jack and Coke over these fussy cocktails—smacked my lips in regret.

This world, flooded with Earth's cultures, naturally had cola from some early transmigrator via alchemy. But it was ridiculously expensive, or so I'd heard.

Still, I'd buy some later.

"Never had cocktails before?"

"First time."

That surprised me. They sold shakers, so cocktails existed here. Yet Miranda—a dwarf (half, but still) who seemed dead serious about booze—had never tried one?

'Even on Earth, dwarf tropes are always beer-chuggers. Never imagined one mixing cocktails.'

The taste was great, but she got into making them herself too. Taking the shaker from me, Miranda added ice, booze, lime juice, and shook vigorously.

Of course, she was clumsy at first. The cap wasn't secure, and when she shook—

-Splash!

"Eek!"

"Ugh..."

Drenched in poorly mixed cocktail, a faint booze scent and sticky feel rose from her body.

"Haa... Got the hang of it now."

She tossed off the sticky clothes and gripped the shaker again, focused.

'Why strip.'

She still had underclothes on, but it was basically underwear. And without even wiping her wet body, she clung to the cocktails. I averted my eyes. Too stimulating...

'...Gotta hold back. Don't wanna fall into <Heat> status again.'

"Try it alone for a bit. Gotta hit the bathroom."

"Okay."

Staying like this felt like it'd lead to another lust-fueled screw-up, so I left shaker-clinging Miranda and relieved myself in the bathroom.

'This pops up too.'

Maybe because 'Mark of Intoxication' prevented resistance, letting it build up? Message says poison—alcohol—is expelled with semen. Used right, couldn't I synthesize poisons with grown [Dragon Poison Art] and shoot them out?

'No way, it actually works.'

'Body toxins are just alcohol, right? Synthesizing in-body makes it a cocktail, no?'

Silly thoughts aside, returning to Miranda, she'd churned and chugged a massive amount in the interim—dead drunk.

"Mmm... wher ya...?"

"...How much did you drink?"

How many glasses in that short time?

Tsking at her capacity, Miranda sniffed, tilted her head at me.

"What? You drank alone?"

"Huh? No, just bathroom."

"Nah... smells like booze..."

Sniffing more, her gaze shifted to my hand and crotch. Knowing what that meant, I scrambled an excuse.

"...Booze splashed on me earlier. That's it."

"...Hmmm..."

"Think we've drunk all the stuff we bought..."

Seeing her enjoy it made me happy too—we used every ingredient. Now Miranda's face was smooshed on the table, still clutching her glass.

"...One more..."

"Out of ingredients?"

As I tidied up, eyes unfocused Miranda sniffed, then pointed somewhere.

"Booze... there..."

"........."

No, that's not booze. Why keep targeting there despite my excuse? Saying it smells like booze... Ah.

'Because of [Lust Absorption] earlier—alcohol in the semen?'

Her eyes, licking lips and eyeing my crotch, looked risky... seductive. She knows and teases, right?

'Fuck. Hard again.'

Just jerked off in the bathroom, but worsening Miranda stripped "hot," spilling cocktails en route—torture to watch.

"...Ah... glass..."

'No sense of timing.'

Unlike fidgeting me, cocktail-obsessed Miranda irked me oddly. I'd drunk some too—head fuzzy, throbbing.

Watching her...

Jerking off was pointless.

Now what? Honestly, [Sensory Block] on touch and groping her, or carrying her to bed, knocking her out, and going for it—all easy.

......Getting way too skilled. Too natural now.

'...Ah, right.'

Pondering, my eyes caught Miranda still clutching the shaker, hunting booze.

'......Might work?'

If not, oh well.

Miranda vaguely realized her head was going haywire.

Making and drinking these cocktails—they were sweeter and tastier than usual booze, so she guzzled tons thoughtlessly. Yet she got drunk faster than normal.

Still, this 'cocktail' Ian taught her? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Loved it. Wanted more later. She could still gauge her state enough for just one more...

"Here, Miranda."

As she drunkenly started closing her eyes, Ian handed her something, saying take it.

Cold metal feel from her hand. Firm, smooth—like the shaker she'd been shaking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moments ago.

"Miranda. I tossed in the leftover ingredients just right—this is the last one. You shake it yourself."

Head spinning, his voice reached her. Instinctual booze craving made her slowly shake her hand.

-Shhake. Shhhake...

Sound of ice and booze in the shaker. But drunk, it felt distant.

-...Slurp... Slurp... Plap... Plap..♥

Flesh slapping sounded closer instead...

"Yes. Good."

I looked down satisfied at Miranda shaking—not the shaker, but my dick gripped in her hand—up and down. Meanwhile, my own hand busily shook the real thing.

-Shake. Shake.

I was the one shaker-shaking. She'd gotten my dick instead. And...

Transferred my hand's sensations to Miranda. Blocked hers.

'This way, she'll think she's touching the shaker.'

Shall we brew a special cocktail?