We Must Find a Way to Carbonate Water
We Must Find a Way to Carbonate Water
After the lunch rush, I brought Blackbeard to Riman's lab.
"Oho..."
Blackbeard's eyes lit up at the sight of the completed freeze-drying machine.
"You two really built this?"
"Yes."
"Remarkable. A machine that dries things without a single flame..."
Having confirmed the freeze-dryer was working, Blackbeard settled back into his seat.
"You are clearly a mage of substance, Riman. But Sir Lucas, where in the world do you get ideas like this?"
He stroked his beard as he spoke to me.
"Just a shift in perspective."
"Heh heh. Well, I'll be..."
"I think I've established enough trust in my ideas. Let's keep talking."
"Fine by me."
We all took seats around the central table in the lab to share ideas.
"Bwah!"
Andrea, who had been nodding off at the table while Blackbeard inspected the freeze-dryer, jolted upright and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth.
"I, I wasn't sleeping. Wooooow. So amazing."
She clapped soullessly, mechanically going through the motions.
"That ship sailed a while ago, pointy-ears."
"...I know."
"Then wipe your mouth before you talk."
"Says the dwarf who can't even hold his liquor."
"Says the carnivorous bear-elf."
Notably, Blackbeard did not call Andrea an elephant this time.
Maybe he'd learned his lesson after that remark nearly caused an explosion.
Andrea puffed out her cheeks at the "carnivorous bear" comment and turned to me.
"Boss, can't we just get rid of this dwarf?"
"Calm down. Is this really something to fight over?"
"You only say that because you don't understand how deep the grudges between our races run."
"Then how about using this chance to tear down some of those walls?"
"Hnngh, nobody's on my side..."
At the sight of a deflated Andrea, Bldi — who had trailed us here and tucked herself into a shadowy corner of the room — seemed to be mouthing words of comfort.
-I, I'm on your side, Andrea.
That's what it looked like, but her voice was too quiet, and Andrea, facing the other way, never caught it.
I gave Bldi a nod.
I saw it.
"Anyway. You want to artificially inject carbonation, is that it?"
"That's right."
"But as I understand it, human mages already practice such magic. I fail to see why I am needed here."
"Of course, the capital already has carbonation-injection techniques. Their effects rival even the dwarves' natural carbonation methods. But!"
The dwarves' proprietary fermentation tanks. The human mages' carbonation injectors.
Both were excellent tools that delivered a sharp, throat-tingling fizz.
"Both products share one massive flaw: they're limited exclusively to beer."
Riman and Blackbeard stared at me with identical incomprehension.
"..."
"Is that not obvious? The dwarf fermentation tank saturates the brew with carbonation during the barley and malt fermentation process. And from what I know, the human carbonation injector also amplifies the carbonation naturally produced during fermentation, using mana stones as a medium."
The mages' carbonation-injection method didn't actually introduce gas from outside — it forcibly drove the otherwise underutilized carbon dioxide already present inside the fermentation vessel back into the liquid.
In other words, if the fermentation process produced no carbonation to begin with, injection itself was impossible.
Which meant it was shackled to beer.
"I want a method that can forcibly inject carbonation into water, not just beer."
"...That's not possible."
"It is."
"How, exactly?"
My memory, human magical technique, and dwarven craftsmanship — combine all three.
"You generate carbon dioxide in a separate chamber, then use that chamber to forcibly drive the external gas into the water."
"...It's not as if the magic Society hasn't tried. They attempted it repeatedly, and each time the machine couldn't withstand the pressure and exploded."
"Correct. The pressure is beyond what modern magical engineering can handle."
At Riman's objection, I looked at Blackbeard.
"But what if we add dwarven craftsmanship to the equation?"
Dwarven manufacturing was the finest on the continent.
And the applied magic of humans was likewise unmatched.
"When the continent's finest magical technique and the continent's finest manufacturing technique merge, the result will be beyond doubt. The invention of a new technology to inject carbonation into water! A breakthrough untouched by human or dwarf hands! How beautiful a resonance is that?"
"Ooooh!"
Riman was already burning with the desire to research.
Dwarven techniques, always kept locked away in secrecy — and now he might explore them!
Scholarly passion surged up uncontrollably.
It was the kind of resonance reason alone could never suppress.
"And if you produce a beer that can't make you drunk no matter how much you drink, Sir Blackbeard, you won't ever be looked down upon back home again."
Deep anguish flickered across Blackbeard's face.
'Riman's on board. The one remaining is Blackbeard.'
"Making a beer that doesn't intoxicate — surely the deception would be exposed quickly."
"No one can tell just by looking. Besides, aren't dwarves a race constitutionally incapable of getting drunk?"
"..."
I mean, if your body can't get drunk no matter how much you drink, if you can't even feel a hangover...
Aren't alcoholic beer and non-alcoholic beer basically the same thing?
Match the aroma, the color, even the level of carbonation, and you could fool them.
"You're telling me to deceive my own comrades?"
"Not deceive. I'm suggesting we build a bridge back into dwarven society for you."
"..."
I took both of Blackbeard's hands as he wrestled with the thought.
"You have to reclaim your honor. We're going to make a dwarf with a colossal liver — for real."
Blackbeard looked at me.
"Is this truly possible?"
"Absolutely. The theory holds. Riman will help prove it."
"...I came here to build a teleport."
A refusal?
If Blackbeard turned me down, I'd just fall back on the original plan: build the brewery using the existing carbonation-injection method.
That would mean no cider, no sparkling water — but simply being able to source beer locally was still a massive win.
Can't be helped.
But what Blackbeard said next was nothing like what I expected.
"Which means I can't build it immediately. Until the teleport is complete, I'll only join the idea meetings briefly."
"Truly?"
"Aye. I can't spend my whole life being scorned by my own kin."
At those words, Riman seized Blackbeard's hand.
"A wise decision! Hahaha!"
He was wearing the smile of a salesman who'd just landed a new research contract.
'Done.'
Recruitment complete.
Andrea, who'd been watching all this, spoke up from where she was still slumped over.
"Alcohol talk is so boringggg..."
***
The viscount's castle of Britten Territory.
Camilla, staying in the guest quarters, murmured to herself as she gazed into the mirror.
"What's wrong with me?"
Three days had already passed since she'd arrived in Britten Territory.
After cooking together with Lucas on that first day, using the freeze-dried soup he'd created, she hadn't been able to set foot in the Knight Restaurant.
Ever since experiencing that emotion — entirely new to her — toward Lucas, who had once seemed so unremarkable, she'd avoided the restaurant and instead spent her time cooped up in the viscount's castle.
She'd traveled all the way to the distant south specifically to eat his food, yet rather than heading to the restaurant, she was accepting meals brought out by the viscount's own chef.
"You're not going to the restaurant?"
Even the viscount had asked, bemused.
"It's fine. I've eaten there plenty already. Right now I need to focus on work."
"But most of the reviews are complete. You could easily go now at your leisure."
"It's fine. I still need to calculate how many people may visit here in the future — I should give it a bit more attention."
She caught herself fabricating excuses not to go, as if pleading a case.
By all rights, she should have been eating two meals a day at Lucas's restaurant.
Wasn't that the whole reason she'd come here as a tourist?
And yet now, the thought of seeing his face frightened her.
Having to keep confronting an emotion she'd never felt before frightened her.
Not knowing what expression might show on her own face frightened her even more.
For someone who'd had almost no contact with men of this sort, the entire situation was utterly alien.
She had read a scene much like this in a romance novel she'd once enjoyed.
The moment the heroine first begins to truly notice the male lead.
The novel had described the heroine's heart like this:
-He was a special person. She wanted to hold his face in her eyes, to keep his voice in her ears.
-The snacks he offered her tasted unusually delicious. Perhaps because they were gifts from a special person.
-When she thought of him, her heart raced without her permission, and she kept wanting to see him.
'Me? Preoccupied with Lucas?'
Camilla looked at her reflection and shook her head.
Impossible.
Lucas was, to her, a capable chef.
She simply wanted to eat his food every day because his skill was exceptional.
There was no other reason.
She merely wanted to hire him into her mansion so that every morning he would wake her, bring her dishes he'd cooked, and stand before her while she lavished praise on his food.
Because his food was unusually delicious.
That was why she wanted to see him every day.
Her heart racing?
'It's just because the food tastes good...'
That's all it was.
No other reason at all.
No improper imaginings either.
Truly.
That flutter she'd felt while cooking with him — that was just her heart being startled by an unfamiliar situation.
Truly.
"I need... to confirm it."
She rose and headed to the restaurant.
She couldn't keep running away forever.
Besides, there was something she was supposed to receive from Lucas.
'A soup that, simply by sprinkling it into water and boiling, produces a perfectly seasoned broth...'
The moment she thought of the soup, an image rose in her mind: the two of them cooking together, herself standing beside Lucas wearing an apron, cooking side by side.
Her face grew flushed, warm.
"N-no, not that! That's not it!"
I am a merchant guild leader.
The proud guild leader of the Golden Wagon.
"What brings you here now? You haven't come to our restaurant in three days — I was starting to think the food didn't suit your palate."
Lucas, cooking in the kitchen with his headscarf on, smiled as he welcomed her.
That flutter from before — she didn't feel it yet.
"Ahem. I'll, I'll have a Doenjang-jjigae."
"Doenjang-jjigae. How about a different menu today?"
"A different menu? What's available?"
"You know that soup we made recently?"
"...Ah. Wh-what about it?"
At Lucas's words, the scene in the kitchen from days ago came rushing back.
The image of them standing together in front of the Flare Range.
Domestic. Like a married couple.
"I'm planning to showcase a new product that uses it."
"Really? Ah... that's fine, whenever."
It was only then she noticed how quiet the restaurant was.
Not only were there no customers, but the elf employee Andrea was nowhere to be seen either.
"Where's that elf, anyway? I don't see her."
"Ah, it's break time, so she stepped out for a bit."
"Huh? Break time?"
Only then did she realize the lunch hour was long over.
"I'm not interrupting your break, am I?"
"Not at all. Make yourself comfortable."
Lucas gave a bright smile and disappeared into the kitchen, and soon a pleasant aroma drifted out.
She watched him cook in silence.
His movements were no different from usual, and they felt exactly the same as always.
Anticipation for the delicious meal to come swelled in her chest.
An unfamiliar spicy scent wafted from the kitchen and tickled her nose.
Crack!
He broke a coco egg and separated the white from the yolk.
Then he gently placed the yolk atop the bubbling broth.
Every motion was small, but each possessed a pull that drew the eye.
A show unfolded that satisfied sight, sound, and smell alike.
And yet, that flutter she'd felt in the kitchen days ago — she didn't feel it now.
'See? I knew I couldn't have fallen for him.'
There was no way she'd fall for a man in a single instant like the heroine of a romance novel.
She was the indomitable guild leader of the Golden Wagon, after all.
That had simply been her heart acting up on its own, startled by an unfamiliar situation.
"Here you are. Ramyun."
"Ramyun?"
"Yes. The killer dish I want to make with that soup."
"Killer dish..."
Relief sweeping through her, Camilla looked down at the large pot filled with deep-red broth.
Handmade noodles were heaped generously inside, bubbling away, surrounded by assorted vegetables and cooked meat.
She'd never seen this dish before.
It looked like some kind of pasta noodle dish, but she couldn't even begin to guess what it would taste like.
Spicy, apparently.
"It looks interesting. Doesn't seem like pasta, though..."
"Haha, allow me to show you how to eat it."
Lucas, who normally would have stood nearby or returned to the kitchen, instead sat down directly across from her.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Let's eat together. I haven't had lunch yet either."
"Uh, uh? Why? Why? Y-you... haven't eaten...?"
"No. I had to sort out the mess the new kitchen knights made. So since you came by, I thought I'd show you a quick dish I can throw together."
"...Ah."
Seated across from her, Lucas personally ladled ramyun into her bowl.
It was something Lucas had done for her plenty of times before.
Thump.
Today, her heart thumped.
"It's, it's, it's improper for a n-noble and a c-commoner to share a table,"
Startled, words she didn't even mean slipped out of her mouth.