Chapter 81
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Drinking Contest (2)
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The shop didn't have many open seats, and since Miranda had suggested we sit together, I ended up taking the spot next to her. I had no real reason to turn down the chance to drink with a beauty like Miranda.
"Come on, have a drink first!"
"Uh, shouldn't we order first..."
"We start by drinking first!"
We'd barely sat down when Miranda handed me a massive mug of beer before we could even place our orders. Out of respect for her gesture, I downed it in one go. The crisp carbonation hit my throat, followed by the fragrant barley aroma, and a subtle warmth spread through my body.
As I drank, Miranda matched me, draining her own mug just as smoothly from the seat beside me. Half-dwarf or not, she really was a dwarf at heart, huh? I'd heard that dwarves loved their booze and could hold it thanks to their sturdy builds, but damn, she threw it back with gusto.
"Phew... Huh? Why are you staring like that?"
"No reason. Just feeling that you're a dwarf through and through, even if you're only half. You handle it like a pro."
"Yeah, well, dwarves have dulled senses, right? Makes it hard to get drunk, so you have to drink a ton to really feel it."
That was the reason? I'd always thought they were just a race obsessed with alcohol, but there was more to it.
"Speaking of which, didn't you say you have the Poison Resistance skill? Does that mean you don't get drunk at all?"
"Pretty much."
She'd learned about my Poison Resistance when I commissioned that troll-heart sword, so she knew. Sure enough, ever since acquiring it, no amount of booze hit me like it used to. I'd get a nice buzz, but nothing like the heavy intoxication from before.
"Can't have that! Here, try this on."
With that, Miranda slammed her mug down and handed me some kind of magic tool. What was this?
"A masterpiece from a great dwarf. Made by one who chose alchemy over blacksmithing, it lets you get drunk by bypassing resistances and such. Every dwarf owns one."
"......"
They called this great? Well, whatever—worked for me. It'd been ages since I'd felt properly buzzed.
I pinned on the brooch-shaped magic tool and took another swig of beer from the mug she passed me. This time, unlike before, my head started to swim pleasantly, the buzz kicking in strong. This world's beer had a higher proof than Earth's anyway.
"You're handling it well."
"What can I say? I'm pretty good with booze."
Not bragging—I'd always been a solid drinker, even without Poison Resistance. Back in college, I outlasted my friends every time. Not that I got much college out of the way before ending up in this world.
"...Did you just say you're 'pretty good' with booze?"
Miranda's eyes gleamed with something ominous as she heard me. What the...? The vibe had totally shifted.
Not just her—the surrounding customers (mostly dwarves) and even the dwarf who seemed to be the owner all stopped talking and turned to stare at our table. What was going on?
"...Even if I'm only half, you dare brag about your drinking in front of me...? Master?"
"Right."
Miranda shouted at the owner, who nodded silently and hauled out an absurd amount of booze from the back.
"...W-what's this?"
"What else? A drinking contest. Didn't you know? Brag about booze in front of a dwarf, and you have to duel."
No clue. Though it did fit my image of dwarves...
"Drinking contest!"
"Ooh! That girl's half-dwarf, right? Does that mean humans have a shot?"
"No way! Miranda, show 'em half-dwarves are dwarves too!"
The other patrons got fired up, raising their mugs in unison. Miranda followed suit with hers.
"What're you waiting for? Grab your mug."
I fumbled to lift mine like everyone else, and with a roaring cheer, we all downed them in one gulp. I awkwardly followed along. Looking closely, every mug-raiser was a dwarf. Guess this place was a dwarf magnet.
"Haven't seen a human challenge a dwarf to a drink-off in ages."
"Thinks he has a chance 'cause she's half?"
I never challenged anyone...
"Even if you didn't know, dwarf tradition says you're challenging me now. Rules are simple: we keep knocking back mugs until one drops. I lose, I make you whatever you want for free. You lose, you pay for all the contest booze and what the spectators drink."
"Wait, what? Hold on."
"Second round!"
Before I could process, Miranda raised her mug and downed the second one, smirking mockingly at me for not keeping up.
...This woman?
-Gulp! Gulp!
"Whoa! The guy's going hard too! And he's wearing the Mark of Intoxication! No cheating with tricks now!"
"Who ya got?"
"Five gold on Miranda!"
"Me too—ten on Miranda! That half-dwarf, right?"
"What? No love for the human? Fine, one silver on the human!"
"Hah! Biggest bet on a human yet?"
The crowd was rowdy. But I had my pride. I'd said I was good— no backing down now. Plus, I eyed the growing pile of spectator drinks.
'...Fuck, how much is that gonna run?'
No matter how I sliced it, this "dwarf tradition" screamed scam to squeeze booze money from suckers.
10th mug.
"Fast!"
"Uh, no snacks or anything?"
"Snacks in a sacred duel?!"
"Ah, right."
20th mug.
"Master! Plenty more booze?"
"Got some from next door. Don't worry."
'Fuck... How much they planning to bleed me?'
30th mug.
"Urp..."
"Hah! Human's hitting his limit?"
Maybe thanks to Body Reinforcement and my toughened physique? Even as a good drinker back on Earth, I'd never imagined chugging this much and still standing. But now my head was spinning, slowing my pace.
"What happened to 'pretty good'? Slacking."
Miranda's face was flushed, but her speech was clear—she wasn't sloshed yet.
I'd hit the bathroom mid-way, but the spectators watched like hawks to ensure no puking, so I just took a leak and came back.
'Ugh... This my limit?'
Swept up in the moment, I'd kept going, but reality hit: if defeat was inevitable, I should've bailed early. The longer it dragged, the more spectator tabs piled up—forcing me to foot a fortune on loss.
"By the way, booze bill so far: five gold coins."
'Fuck.'
Just regular beer, yet the total was insane. Quit before it climbed higher...
"Not much of a drinker, huh."
"............."
This bitch?
Dwarves were cheat-code drinkers by nature, and here she was provoking me? Infuriating. From the start, racial differences stacked the deck—yet she mocked me like this? No "good fight" or "not bad"—straight-up "can't hang"?
...Fine. Let's do this.
'Sensory Block. Block the intoxication buzz.'
I cast Sensory Block on myself. Shutting out the drunken haze cleared my head instantly, straightening my slurred speech. It only blocked sensation—alcohol was still in my system, so more drinking was risky... but win, ditch this damn tool, and tank it with Poison Resistance.
-Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!
"Whoa? Human's picking up speed again!"
"Nice! One gold on the human!"
"What? Late bets don't count!"
Ignoring the noise, I wiped my mouth and shot Miranda a taunting glare. Her eye twitched; she upped her pace defiantly.
40th mug.
"That human guy's solid for one. Strong adventurer?"
"Nah, overheard he's fresh Intermediate Adventurer. And with the Mark, that don't matter."
50th mug.
"...How long since a human lasted this far?"
"Reminds me of that Grargas human from the snowfields duel."
60th mug.
"...Miranda's slowing?"
"No way! You win, he pays our tabs!"
70th mug.
"............"
".......Human, right? Not dwarf? Or quarter or something?"
80—no, 78th mug.
-Thud.
"...! M-Miranda!"
"Impossible! Human beat a dwarf!"
"She's half! Half ain't full dwarf!"
"You don't know Miranda? Looks half, drinks like full dwarf! She'd outdrink me!"
Ugh, fuck.
As the spectators grumbled over their massive tabs, accepting my win, I supported Miranda by the shoulders and headed to her forge. Once outside, I ditched the "Mark of Intoxication" thing. My suppressed Poison Resistance—now level 4—kicked in, detoxing the alcohol flooding my system.
How much did we drink? Even at level 4, it's taking forever.
"Ughhh..."
"Whew, booze breath."
Her cocky swagger gone, I half-dragged the wasted Miranda back to her forge. Even with Poison Resistance active, my head throbbed.
Inside, I spotted the bed from our past lessons, tossed her in.
"Nngh..."
I set her down and caught my breath sitting by the bed. Her flushed face twisted as if dreaming of more drinks, hands miming mug-lifts while she squirmed.
"Hot..."
Suddenly, she bolted upright and—before I could stop her—started stripping wildly.
"H-hey, wait... Mmph..."
I tried to speak, but she flung her clothes everywhere. The loose t-shirt she wore slapped onto my face. Still reeking of booze, it carried her sweat, metallic tang, and body scent.
"Mmm..."
Exposing herself fully, she murmured in her sleep and passed out again.
"..........."
Oh right, we were heading to the brothel but got sidetracked.
".........."