Prohibition (3)

"What on earth is wrong with him all of a sudden?"

The man had pulled a complete one-eighty. He was acting like an entirely different person, to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the point where it seemed downright suspicious. It felt as though someone was standing right beside him, pressing a gun to his temple and ordering him to apologize.

In a daze, I accepted the bribe of apology. The colossal greatsword that materialized right before my eyes was undeniable proof.

The issue was the obscured name.

"This hunk of junk is an actual Holy Sword?"

I narrowed my eyes and examined the blade. It possessed an ancient, heavily rusted exterior that looked like it would inflict tetanus upon anyone who dared graze it. How in the world could this thing be a Holy Sword?

Still, tossing it into a neglected corner of the warehouse felt wrong, so after pondering what to do, I grabbed the hilt.

Wuuuung.

"What the heck? It's absurdly light."

No, it was far beyond merely light—it felt as if I were holding nothing at all. How could something the length of a full-grown man, boasting such an imposing, menacing thickness, weigh this little? Yet the blade certainly didn't feel hollow.

"Whoa."

CRUNCH!

An accidental swing struck a hapless wooden crate, pulverizing it into splinters that scattered in every direction. It was at that precise moment that the anomaly took place.

How do I put this? The description sounded like some cheap infomercial slogan. The instant that thought crossed my mind, an explosive torrent of radiance burst forth from the greatsword!

"Gaaah! Wait, what? It's not blinding at all?"

The radiance effortlessly illuminated the pitch-black warehouse interior that my weak bulbs had struggled to brighten. On top of that, it even possessed an automatic anti-glare feature to protect my eyesight.

"Alright, you're officially Light Fixture Number One starting today."

I didn't need any other lamps. Best of all, it seemed like an infinite power source that didn't consume a single Mana Dumpling. As I debated leaning it against a nearby wall, the most crucial duty of a forum user flashed through my mind.

Click!

"A flex post is mandatory."

"What's with this? Nobody cares that much?"

I had uploaded the post to show off, but simultaneously monitored their reactions to see if having this blade would provoke severe backlash. If it truly was an imperial Holy Sword, it was a national treasure; keeping it might easily turn into more poison than profit. I wasn't some epic hero in the first place—I was just a forum Head Moderator.

Yet almost nobody cared. Sure, a handful raised questions about it.

The Holy Sword had never manifested its power even once throughout the entirety of the Great War. Perhaps because of that, immediate survival was far more vital to the users of Adrian than some useless lump of iron. The popular conceptual posts flooding the boards the second the incident concluded proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Literally nobody gave a damn about the Holy Sword. I stared blankly for a beat, then let out a hollow laugh.

"Screw it, whatever."

I finally unleashed the alcohol upon the forum of alcohol zombies.

The stolen alcohol had returned to the gallery. That fact alone plunged the forum into sheer pandemonium.

"Oh, you motherfucker."

I had seen it. It was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a Tactical Nuke—perhaps with destructive yield far exceeding one. I instantly clicked on the author's profile and slapped them with a 999-day ban. Even so, my violently unsettled mind refused to calm down.

In a panic, I grabbed the Old Holy Sword propped against the wall, toggled the light feature on, and pressed the radiant blade directly against my eyes.

"Whew..."

Only then did my deeply traumatized psyche settle back into equilibrium. Aside from acting as an ambient lamp, the Holy Sword also came equipped with a functioning mental eye-bleach feature.

"Anyway, I wonder if the stuff I sent over arrived properly."

What Frederick had offered wasn't an item one could just casually keep for free. Even if everything seemed fine right now, it could easily turn into a massive headache down the line. Swallowing something like that whole was a surefire way to get an upset stomach.

With that in mind, I had pondered what would make a suitable return gift, which reminded me of the complaints that constantly littered the gallery boards.

"Right, culinary culture in this world never really developed."

More accurately, it had been brutally stunted. When the Great War erupted, it reduced civilization's cultural achievements to ash, cementing the other world's perception of food into a single, unyielding dogma.

Food was connected purely to survival. Flavor was never considered a factor worth worrying about. Taking advantage of that, I had gifted Frederick a supply of magical white powder as an exchange item—a simple tool to appease public sentiment on his end.

Indeed. The miraculous magic powder.

It was MSG.

High along a winding trail traversing a rugged mountain range, a party of four made their way forward. The knight walking at the vanguard spoke up.

"Let us make camp here for the night."

"Phew! Finally done!"

"It was exhausting, but the sense of accomplishment is wonderful."

"I'll start preparing dinner right away!"

This was the adventuring party led by Rox, the veteran knight of the fallen Kelton Kingdom whose life had once been preserved by Judddak's energy drink. Unusually enough, the party's lineup consisted of an elf, a dwarf, a rogue, and a knight, yet their objective was simple.

"How many did we bring down today?"

"Hmm. We took down approximately eighty, I believe."

Their mission was to slay demon beasts. Burdened by the crushing guilt of failing to protect the King of Kelton, Rox had wandered aimlessly from place to place, and this party had naturally formed around his journey. At a glance, it looked like an eccentric combination. Every member harbored a burning hatred toward demon beasts, which was the core bond uniting them.

Yet a shared grievance alone wasn't enough to keep a multi-species adventuring party intact. There was another, far more decisive anchor holding them together.

"So, has the marketplace opened yet?"

It was Judddak's Marketplace.

Enjoying marketplace food after a grueling, blood-soaked expedition was nothing short of heavenly rest. However, the expression on the dwarf Gilli's face as he accessed the gallery screen was far from bright. In fact, it was a grotesque mask woven from equal parts despair and anguish.

"...Out."

"Pardon?"

"It's all sold out! Judddak opened the marketplace a whole hour early!"

"Whaaaat?!"

At Gilli's agonizing shriek, the expressions of everyone setting up the campsite rotted away in unison—save for the energy drink fanatic, Rox, who remained largely unfazed. Nadia, the elf whose long ears drooped in despair, squeezed her eyes shut and shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Checking the marketplace was your shift, Gilli! Why didn't you check it sooner?!"

"How the blazes was I supposed to know this would happen?! Damn it all! If I'd known, I would have rationed my beer..."

Once the unifying pillar crumbled, fracture swiftly followed.

"You foolish dwarf! Soju is completely off the table tonight because of you!"

"Wh-What did you say?!"

"Give me back my Dew!"

"I've held my tongue long enough, knife-ears!"

The atmosphere turned vicious in the span of a single heartbeat. Fortunately, the party's pack-mule and human ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rogue, Sophia, had already scavenged a special item in advance.

"U-Um, excuse me, you inferior other-race folks...! P-Please calm down! Look, I actually managed to secure one of these...!"

"Ugh... well, if that's the case..."

"Wait a second, Sophia. What did you just call us...?"

"Look right here!"

What Sophia retrieved from her bosom was none other than the seasoning packet distributed by Judddak through Frederick: MSG. Because Frederick had handed them out indiscriminately in an attempt to suppress fiery civil unrest, one had managed to slip into the party's hands.

Huddled closely around the campfire, each of them gasped for their own reasons. This was the current viral topic consuming the entire gallery—the miraculous magic powder, MSG.

"Oooh... How could they manufacture such an exquisitely refined packaging material?"

"So if you just put this into food, it magically becomes delicious?"

"As expected of Head Mod. Is that man a god...?"

"Alright, everyone, you're being too loud...! Please close your mouths for a moment while I demonstrate...!"

Tap, tap.

Sophia gently shook the packet, sprinkling the contents into the hideous-looking pot of demon beast stew. A shake, then another, until she finally dumped the entire packet in.

"Haaah... Will that really work?"

Nadia's expression grew deeply skeptical. No matter how many miraculous wonders Judddak brought forth from his realm, wasn't this pushing past the boundaries of common sense?

"Never mind that! Here, Nadia-nim! You should take the very first sip!"

"Huh? Me first?"

"Because you're the oldest among us!"

"..."

A bizarre chill ran down Nadia's spine. Sophia was just a cute, golden-haired girl who hadn't even finished growing yet.

I don't know why, but it feels like she's deliberately picking at my sore spots...

Meanwhile, the expectant gazes of the other three members bore into her face. Her pointed ears drooping shyly, Nadia finally mustered her courage, raised the wooden spoon, and took a tentative sip of the monster stew.

"Hieeeeeek?!"

"Nadia, are you alright?!"

"I-It's... It's so delicious!!"

Nadia's pointed ears sprang straight up toward the sky. It was the very first moment in the history of the other world that the flesh of a demon beast tasted sweet and savory.