Chapter 22: The Lifted Veil (5)
Chapter 22: The Lifted Veil (5)
"You bastard!!"
At first, I thought Ben had caused an accident.
Regarding my 'health', he was extremely thorough and had a berserker-like side, so I thought it was plausible enough. But the words that followed planted doubt in my mind.
"Mile! I told you not to pull that kind of filthy stunt again!"
Huh? Did Ben know that guy's name too?
Come to think of it, the voice sounded quite different too.
There was no way his voice had suddenly changed due to puberty...
I glanced back.
'......Ben is right here, isn't he?'
Though still fuming with anger, the man standing quietly behind me was definitely Ben.
That meant the one grabbing the druggie called 'Mile' by the collar over there was an entirely different person.
Crash! Thud!
Whoa, they seemed to know each other, but he was really merciless.
'My god, he even threw him?!'
The man who had let go of the collar, which he'd been shaking vigorously, as if tossing it aside, caught his breath, then whipped his head around to look this way.
I had been looking with pity at the druggie crumpled in the corner, and at the sight of the face twisted like a demon, I flinched inwardly, but that was only for a moment.
The guy immediately softened his expression and carefully spoke, his face full of apology.
"My friend committed a grave discourtesy. I apologize."
"No, well... it's fine."
"No, it really could have been a disaster. Drugging someone, after getting badly burned once, I thought he'd never do it again. I'm sorry. I should at least offer some compensation..."
I was really fine.
I just wanted to go back quickly and rest while counting the gold coins I'd earned today.
So whatever he offered, I intended to refuse quickly and go back, but...
"Ah, you said you like alcohol, right? Coincidentally, the second floor here is a tavern. I'll buy you a drink there."
"!"
"You can drink as much as you want."
I froze.
All movement stopped. It couldn't be helped. This was like instinct.
"A-as much as I want?"
"Yeah, as much as you want."
"......"
This was force majeure.
"Lord Demon...?"
As if sensing something ominous, Ben cautiously called out to me.
Hah, I barely managed to come to my senses at that.
No. Ed had gone to such lengths to warn me; I had to hold back.
For the sake of Ben, who diligently followed me around, I had to hold back. I had to. I couldn't let myself be seduced by those demonic whispers...
"It's purely my apology, so don't feel burdened. If you really feel burdened, you could just share some know-how on how to earn that much."
"But I don't have any know-how."
"Ah, asking for know-how on first meeting was too much, right?"
No. It's not because it's a first meeting; I really don't have any.
"Then let's start by getting friendly first."
A voice laced with a peculiar playfulness, making it feel even more friendly.
I thought, watching his eyes curve playfully.
This guy's a pro.
I could see at a glance that he was skilled at drawing people in.
An ordinary person would probably naturally develop a favorable impression, but it wouldn't work on me, who knew everything!
'......Or so I thought.'
When I came to my senses, I found myself already on the second floor with my arm around his shoulders.
I'd been had! How?!
To be tricked even while knowing it, what the hell was I, this bastard?
A surge of self-loathing made me want to tear my hair out. Of course, my head was precious, so I substituted by clenching my fist tightly and then relaxing it.
"What are you thinking?"
"...Nothing."
No, on second thought, it was understandable. It had been quite a while since I'd last had alcohol.
Especially for someone like me who loved alcohol, it was easy to be swayed.
So I should drink a little now to make sure I wouldn't fall for such tricks again...
"Lord Demon..."
"Urk."
Blinded by alcohol, I had forgotten the presence of the obstructionist.
I looked at Ben, whose face was earnest, and broke out in a cold sweat.
If he had been loud and forceful, I might not have felt any guilt, but with him looking at me with such a gentle expression, my conscience prickled sharply.
It was even scarier, in fact.
So, afraid that his mood might be severely ruined, I tread cautiously and tried to compromise as carefully as possible.
"I'll only drink one glass."
"......"
"I won't get drunk."
"Whether you can control that..."
"Right! As long as I don't get drunk, isn't that fine? Hey, mister, why don't you have a drink too?"
"...I'm fine."
A heavy sigh settled over the table.
I didn't show it, but I flinched inwardly.
As expected, it wasn't going to work. Judging by Ben's reaction, he seemed more upset.
I'd gained nothing and lost favor. It was the worst.
A sigh leaked out. Perhaps because he'd heard it, Ben flinched slightly and stared at me intently.
"......"
"......"
A look that seemed to ask, "The one who should be sighing is me, so why are you sighing?"
For some reason, my breath caught, and before I knew it, I inhaled deeply. Then he slowly spoke in a slightly trembling voice.
"Just... one glass."
"Pardon?"
"You might be disappointed, but I think it would be best to save anything more for next time. I'm sorry."
It took a little time to understand those words.
Had the guy who seemed like he'd never permit it actually given permission? Did I hear that correctly? Or had my ears just heard what they wanted to hear?
After running through several mental processes and confirming that the words were true, I inwardly cheered. I barely managed to hide my excitement and replied.
"Yes."
Finally!
I sat at the table, humming a song inwardly.
As I was about to check the menu, the guy, who had been watching me and Ben alternately with apparent interest, raised a hand and called someone over.
"One of everything on the menu."
Oh shit, I love you.
When I asked if this wasn't too wasteful, he said he planned to give the leftovers to his friends.
Where on earth could you find another angel like this?
The alcohol came out quickly.
Ignoring Ben's gaze mixed with concern, I cheerfully scanned the bottles. Then I became rapidly depressed.
'To only be able to taste just one out of all these many things.'
And not even a whole bottle, but just a glass.
I could take the extreme route of mixing them, but then it would be hard to taste the unique flavor of each liquor.
I couldn't end this rare glass in such an ambiguous way, so with a heart about to weep, I repeatedly picked up this one and then that one.
It seemed frustrating to him.
"Hmm... if it's hard to choose, shall I recommend something?"
"Pardon?"
"If you like a bitter taste, this one. If you prefer a clean finish, this one. If you like sweet, this one. If you like a smooth swallow, this one. And..."
The explanation went on endlessly.
'Wow... you bastard...'
He's incredible?!
This guy seemed to be quite the enthusiast for alcohol.
Feeling oddly glad, I listened silently to his lengthy talk with a pleased expression, without interrupting, all the way to the end.
Ben seemed to be making a fed-up face beside me, but who cares.
For me right now, this choice was like a once-in-a-lifetime decision. The opportunity that had come my way was too precious to pick carelessly because of his disapproval.
After much deliberation, I finally managed to pick one, and at last, the glass was placed in my hand. The liquid sloshing inside was so brilliantly clear.
Since I couldn't guarantee when I'd get to drink again, I sipped with tears in my eyes, when the guy who had been tilting his glass opposite me suddenly spoke up.
"A bit noisy, isn't it?"
"Hm?"
"Plenty of rough guys around, so as soon as they drink, fights break out."
"...Ah."
On one side, people were throwing punches at each other.
But wasn't fighting a daily occurrence in taverns? I tilted my head and looked back at him, and he winked one eye and pointed somewhere with his finger.
There, two people were grappling, openly displaying a murderous intent.
"Wanna bet on which one will win? Ah, of course, the gentleman next to you too."
"I'm fine."
"Come on, don't be a spoilsport."
He grinned slyly and casually put his arm around Ben's shoulders.
Only then did I understand what his intention was.
The half-empty glass being refilled with alcohol.
By narrowing my vision with the shoulder embrace, he had poured me another drink.
To a demon-race, this might be an insult, but I couldn't help thinking it anyway.
'My god, there could be such an angelic demon-race.'
As soon as I hurriedly emptied my glass, alcohol was poured again.
I drank again, and it was refilled; drank, refilled.
How many times did that repeat?
──My memory cut off.
***
His laughter was silly, but his red eyes were lucid.
His expression was relaxed, but his movements were more guarded than ever.
He was dangerous.
His instincts were sounding frantic alarms. He had frozen momentarily in fear that assaulted his entire body, unable to move a single finger.
Ben had barely regained his senses when that man had drunk a staggering three bottles and then half of another.
As if the frozen time shattered, he barely came to himself and lowered his gaze.
It seemed he had been trembling. His two hands under the table were still shaking intermittently.
'I couldn't stop him.'
From the first moment he seemed drunk, even though he could have stopped him, he had merely watched until he downed three and a half bottles.
Because at that time, his instincts had screamed danger the loudest.
He had clearly looked most vulnerable on the surface, so why.
However, Ben, who had fought alongside the Demon King for a long time, knew well that trusting instinct over sight was more conducive to extending one's lifespan.
That was why, even as he watched his patient open another bottle, he couldn't say anything.
"Ha, ahahah..."
Because he had been drinking continuously without any snacks, his initially clear red eyes had become a little clouded.
He rubbed his face on the table and grinned foolishly. Because of that, one of the bottles lined up beside him toppled over with a thud.
'......The empty bottles seem to have increased in that time...'
Sure enough, four bottles were lined up in a row.
Adding the one that had fallen and was rolling on the table, that made five in total.
To have finished that many bottles in that time. Wasn't this too fast, even for him?
The alertness that had been on high edge relaxed slightly. That meant the most dangerous moment had passed.
Even so, Ben didn't let his guard down. It had only eased a little, not completely disappeared.
His instincts, still directed at the person before him, now signaled that he had to be tense for a different reason.
And as expected.
"Are you the enemyyy?"
"No."
"Then are you the enemyyyy?"
"That isn't either."
"Who's the enemyyy?"
"There is none here right now."
"Youu, are you the enemyyyy?"
"No."
The drunken rambling had begun.
He said he wouldn't get drunk...
Ben silently covered his face. Amidst it all, Demon's questions kept repeating, making it all the more wretched.
He had allowed it for nothing. Overwhelming regret washed over him. He had only permitted one glass, closing his eyes tightly because he feared that if he sighed carelessly, something might happen.
'I shouldn't have allowed it.'
The Demon King's joker. The pride of the demon army who had killed the last Hero, the 0th Legion Commander Demon Arut.
He had already been repeating the same question and answer endlessly for twenty minutes.
Some might ask why he was so on edge about that human, who was dead drunk and giggling.
But that was something only someone who didn't know him at all would say.
Yeah, he might look easy to handle. He might look frivolous. Then, go ahead and try answering that question in the affirmative.
That question, "Are you the enemy?"
If you fail to answer or give an affirmative, the 0th Legion Commander would transform as if he'd never been laughing, draw his dagger, and start wildly attacking.
In such cases, at minimum, serious injury; in severe cases, the corpse would be so slashed that it was unrecognizable, and the person would die.
How could he not be tense?
Especially if such a situation occurred here, it would be difficult to clean up.
'Fortunately, it's still at stage one...'
His drunken episodes were divided into three stages.
Stage one: questions. Stage two: suspicion. Stage three: interrogation.
At stage one, if you deny the question "Are you the enemy?" he just moves on.
At stage two, after that, the question "Why?" follows. If you can't answer properly then, the attack begins.
Stage three is simply the start of a massacre.
For a simple example, suppose you present the opinion to the question "Why?": "Lord Demon is part of the demon king's army. I am as well. Therefore, I am not an enemy."
At stage two, he just passes over it, but at stage three, he then interrogates again, "Why is that? You could betray, or you could be a spy, right?"
What could you say other than just denying it? If you're rendered speechless by absurdity or just keep repeating denials, he declares, "So you are the enemy," and attacks, driving the person insane.
'Stage three absolutely must not happen.'
With that thought, Ben steeled himself and stopped Demon's hand as it reached for a new bottle.
Clouded red eyes rolled and fixed on him.
What was contained within was clear displeasure.
It was not killing intent or anger, just displeasure. Still, frozen like a mouse before a cat for a moment, Ben swallowed dryly and barely opened his mouth.