The Conclusion I Reached After Careful Deliberation
In front of a restaurant near Caipol's Central Market, Melo's face was radiant with joy after lunch.
"Was it good?"
"Yeees! It was delicious!"
"How was the squid-ink pasta?"
At Jane's question, Melo cried out brightly, as if she had been waiting for exactly that.
"An extraordinarily rare flavor!"
"Melo, you know words like that?"
"My mom uses it all the time, so I know it!!"
"If I gave you squid ink and the other ingredients, do you think you could make it?"
At Blow's question, Melo waved her arms through the empty air, then brought her hands together in a sharp clap.
"If I mess it up once or twice, I think I could get pretty close!"
"And who eats the failures?"
"Th-that's..."
Melo's gaze kept drifting toward Hans.
Startled, Hans pointed at himself in disbelief.
"...Me?"
At his aggrieved question, she promptly looked somewhere else entirely.
Laughter spread in a quiet ripple, and by the time they had walked on a while, they found themselves at the mouth of Caipol Central Market.
Blow, who had business there, stopped and turned to face them.
"You all head back and rest. I'll take a look around the market and catch up."
"I'll come with you!"
"I want to see the market too!!"
At Hans's words, Melo bounced in place, her voice brimming with excitement.
Watching her, Blow leaned in and whispered into Jane's ear.
"We're going to buy liquor. That might be a bit much, don't you think?"
"Mr. Hans looks exhausted. It would be better to send him back with Melo."
While the two of them whispered, Melo had already drawn close, tilting her head.
"What are you two talking about?!"
"Take this and go get waffles with Hans."
"Ehh! Young Master isn't having any?"
"I'm not particularly fond of waffles."
"Ehh? How can anyone not like waffles...?"
"The world has all kinds of tastes."
While Melo blinked in bewilderment, Jane whispered a few words to Hans. Emotion spread across his face as he looked at Blow.
"Young Master..."
"Put that sappy look away."
Hans bowed his head in thanks, then headed off with Melo toward a nearby waffle shop.
At last free of the pair, Blow stepped into Caipol Central Market with Jane.
The market was one of the largest on the continent, befitting a city known for commerce and education. Stalls overflowed with monster meat and hides, the fur coats northerners wore against the cold, and fruit gathered from the elves' forests. Passing the Parso trading houses that dealt in rare spices and sugar, one felt like a bee lost in happy indecision among blossoms in full bloom.
Blow had come in with two goals: to find liquor he could sell, and to hunt down ingredients worth cooking at the inn. After wandering the stalls for a good while with that in mind, he settled on sausage and corn—foods he had eaten plenty of in the other world—as the next items on the menu. To sample the flavors, he bought corn and sausage of every grade, from the lowest to the highest.
"Young Master, aren't you buying any fish?"
"It spoils too easily."
"What if we installed a mana-stone freezer in the basement, like other places do?"
Hearing that, Blow narrowed his eyes and looked at Jane.
"And you'll be the one buying the mana stones, I assume?"
"...Surely not."
"We'll do it later, once we have the spare coin. Even if we had all that, fish still has to be cleaned, and that's a hassle."
"If you make me clean fish, I'll simply die."
Jane, who covered her eyes the instant a fish dish was set down, shook her head as if the very thought gave her chills.
"We'll hit the liquor shop last. Before that, shall we go find some sauce?"
"I feel like Melo should have been here for this."
"If Melo's eyes started spinning, do you think we could stop her?"
"That's true. What kind of sauce are you looking for?"
"Tomato ketchup."
"Tomato? I've never eaten that."
"Ah. Right. Of course."
As she said, shops selling tomatoes were rare in this central market, let alone ketchup. Tomatoes had yet to become a common ingredient in the Empire of Serdia, so he and Jane had to wear out their shoes asking around.
After much asking, a kind shopkeeper told them that if they went deep into the inner market, there was exactly one place that handled tomatoes. Blow thanked him, then walked a long way in until they arrived at Cypress Seasonings.
The shop could not have been open long. The canvas shading the front stall was without a single crease, and sauces and vegetables sat neatly packed in boxes. As he approached, a clerk with tanned skin and striking curly brown hair came out to greet him. Blow asked about ketchup at once, and the clerk stroked his chin and tilted his head, as if he had no idea.
"Tomato ketchup?"
"Yes."
"If you're looking for a tomato sauce other than ketchup, we do have that. This is a secret, but ours is the only shop on this street that carries tomato sauce."
"So it seemed."
At the tone of Blow's voice, heavy with the journey that had brought him here, the clerk laughed awkwardly.
"Ah, so you've already been everywhere else. Tomatoes are eaten all the time in my hometown, but they aren't popular at all in Caipol."
"Where's your hometown?"
"Cypress. It's the coastal city you pass through before heading down to Parso."
"So that's why the shop is called Cypress Seasonings. What's your name?"
"Julio."
"I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you."
"The honor is mine."
Julio bent at the waist and took the hand Blow offered. After that, Blow went inside and looked over the sauces and spices.
What struck him most, with the other world's memories still fresh, was how absurdly expensive sugar and curry powder were. The next surprise was that there was no tomato ketchup, and yet mayonnaise existed.
"Would you care to try some?"
Julio scooped up a spoonful of tomato sauce and held it out. Blow didn't refuse; he put it straight into his mouth. The sauce began sweet and finished with the tomato's characteristic tartness, and the aftertaste was light and clean, almost refreshing.
This is a gold mine. Add a little sugar later and it'll be incredible.
Tomato pasta, pizza, hot dogs, stew, even tomato egg-drop soup—plans clicked into place one after another in his head. In high spirits, he pointed at the tomato sauce and the curry powder, along with a jar of mayonnaise he meant as a gift for Melo.
"Give me all of these."
"R-really?! For all of this, I'll only charge five gold!!"
Five gold. Fifty silver—an amount that easily surpassed a month's food budget for an ordinary commoner student. Perhaps that was why Julio, barely containing his joy, wrapped them up and handed them to Jane.
After paying and stepping outside, Jane tilted her head at him.
"The sauces were far more expensive than I expected."
"If you think of it as research, it doesn't sting."
"Seeing as you had the mayonnaise wrapped separately..."
"That's Melo's farewell gift."
"Haa. Melo only has two days left before she goes back. I don't know what I'll have to look forward to."
Jane wore the face of someone who had lost the world, but Blow was no less reluctant. The thought of running the kitchen without Melo already left him at a loss. Still, he couldn't keep her here. His sigh lengthening, he spoke to Jane as if in passing.
"Let's treat Melo well until she leaves. So Caipol stays a good memory."
"Even so, I'm going to hide the curry powder somewhere very safe."
"Just leave it in my room."
Their next stop was Egg Bottles, a wholesale liquor shop. Its proprietor, Sullivan, started as if he had seen a ghost.
"Young Master! You're awake?"
"I am."
"Shall I get you the usual?"
When the proprietor immediately produced a bottle of Ropert malt, Blow shook his head firmly.
"No. I hardly drink these days."
"What?! Have you not fully recovered?"
"Aside from losing a bit of weight, I'm perfectly fine."
"Hmm...? Then... why?"
Utterly unable to understand, Sullivan swept him with a worried gaze. Thoroughly embarrassed, Blow rubbed the back of his neck and looked elsewhere.
"Because I felt like it."
"Then what brings you here?"
"To say hello."
"You're joking?"
Sullivan's brows bent in disbelief, and Blow let out a short laugh.
"Of course I'm joking. I came to take some beer with me today."
"Beer! Well, beer isn't liquor to you, Young Master!"
"I'm not the one drinking it."
"What? Then...?"
"I'm going to sell it."
"So you're going into the liquor business? How very like you, Young Master!"
As the words landed, Blow forced down something twisting in his gut and offered an awkward smile.
"I came looking for something to sell alongside roasted potatoes."
"Aha! Shall I bring out a few beers, then?"
"Yes. How much for a tasting?"
"You've bought from me all this time. That much I'll offer on the house."
"You know, you're surprisingly easy to talk to."
A short while later, Sullivan poured three different beers and set them before Blow and Jane. Blow didn't hesitate; he went straight into the tasting. But the more he drank, the greater his disappointment grew. Not one of the beers pleased him. Watching Blow's brow draw tight, Sullivan spoke carefully.
"Not to your liking?"
"These don't even taste like beer."
"I brought only our best sellers... This is a problem."
"What are they called?"
"Caipol Ale, Splashier, and Bredrick, respectively."
"Ale?"
...So that was why they tasted off.
A deep sigh escaped him. Sullivan, wondering if he had done something wrong, dabbed the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
"Is there some problem...?"
"No. Do you happen to have any lager?"
"Lager? There might be some in the cellar. May I go down and look?"
"I'd appreciate it."
...To think he would live to miss Korean beer.
Strictly speaking, what Blow truly missed was foreign lager. Budwise, Donchingtao, Asihi, Charlesberg, Hiseken... He missed them terribly—beers that won on carbonation and dryness alone, with not a trace of bitterness or fruit—and closed his eyes, imagining himself drinking them.
"Jane, roasted potatoes really call for lager, don't they?"
"I've never had lager."
"What?"
"I don't like alcohol."
"Then I'll have to build a lager brewery. For our family's domain to have no brewery—that's a matter of pride."
"Yes... sure."
At the drained tone of her voice, Blow glanced at her. Her pale face, already tipsy, was flushing red little by little.
"That's enough for you."
"No. I'll have at least one more. Someone has to taste them from a neutral standpoint! You like every kind of liquor, Young Master!"
There was a weight of old grievance in her tone, and Blow quietly looked away.
A little later, the shopkeeper returned from below with a filled glass and offered it carefully.
"Here you are."
Blow took it, poured about half into an empty glass, and held it out to Jane.
"Drink it, then tell me what you think."
"For Melo's cuteness!"
Before drinking, Blow took a look at the lager. A foam like a bright white cloud sat atop the vivid yellow beer. After studying it, he brought the glass quickly to his lips. A crisp carbonation prickled and went down cool, the barley's faintly bitter character spreading through his mouth, and then the beer slipped lightly down his throat, leaving everything refreshed.
"Now this is beer! Though I feel like I've had it somewhere before."
At that, the shopkeeper flinched, then wiped the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief.
"What you drank earlier was also beer, mind you..."
"It's got that toasty savor. I'm certain I've tasted this."
"This beer comes from Paulos Monastery. The so-called Pilsner Paulos."
"What? Paulos?"
Blow was scratching his head at the name when Jane, her spirits soaring from the drink, looked at him and giggled.
"Paulos Monastery—that's where Master Blow went in and got thrown out...!"
"Be quiet."
"Why? Why? Are you embarrassed?"
"Yes. I'm starting to get a little embarrassed."
"Hehe, then I'll be quiet!"
Paulos Monastery. A few years ago, his mother, Luce, had forced him in there, determined to cure his scoundrel's nature. Blow's character, in the end, had not changed. Remembering the abbot who had looked at him then with eyes full of worry, he clicked his tongue in regret.
"I don't have the face to go looking for them now..."
"Unfortunately, that's the only decent lager in the shop. And that was the last glass."
"So you gave me something you were saving? My heart aches."
"Haha. A small courtesy for a VIP."
Blow thanked him, then stepped outside with Jane. They tried several more places, but not a single beer pleased him.
Of all things, monastery beer.
Tormented by a karma of his own making, he bought two casks of Caipol Ale for the evening trade and headed for the Nyx Inn.
At the Nyx Inn, the hour for preparing the evening service had come. For tonight, Blow intended to open the hall and actually take money. Even if the potatoes brought no profit, his goal was to push the beer hard and scrape together a little gain. Of course, this was still a soft opening, so he meant to run only the three tables the inn's guests had been using. Roasted potatoes, served as a side, were priced at one silver, and the beer, as at other taverns, at one penny a glass.
"Considering what I paid wholesale, I should be able to make about double on each glass of beer."
"We won't run short, will we?"
Jane, who had sobered up at some point, said this while running a hand over the dark-brown oak cask. Something occurred to Blow, and he looked at her.
"Jane, can you still use ice magic?"
"Ice? Well, the basics..."
"I can't even manage the basics, which is why I'm asking. Can you cast it on that cask?"
"Why? The weather's cool enough as it is."
"Beer should be drunk as cold as possible."
Blow had been saying things that ran against everything she knew as common sense, and Jane's head tilted to the side along with her white hair.
...Still, since he had ordered it, she had better just do it.
Thinking so, she asked nothing more and summoned her white magic circle.
"Jane. Do not freeze it. Understood?"
"My magic isn't that powerful."
"Ah. Then it's fine."
⟨ Freeznion ⟩
A chill poured from the white magic circle and began to touch the oak cask. Seeing it, Blow gave Jane a thumbs-up, clearly pleased.
"That's enough."
"I am curious how much of a difference it makes."
"And you're banned from drinking today. I nearly abandoned you on the way back."
Leaving the embarrassed Jane where she stood, Blow checked the clock. It was already five in the afternoon. With the last classes ending at most of the schools, Duskblock was gradually coming back to life.
So Melo could start cooking right away, he tossed the potatoes into boiling water and set about arranging the tables. But the longer he worked, the louder the bustle outside became. Sensing something off, he looked toward the window. Countless shadows were loitering there.
...What?
A strange unease settling over him, he approached and drew the curtain only far enough to see. And there, unbelievably, a huge crowd had gathered. Startled, he tried to roughly count them—when several who met his eyes jumped and shouted.
"It's Blow!"
"It's really Blow Deblique!!"
Hearing that much, he gave up counting and yanked the curtain shut. He was swallowing dryly to the pounding of his heart when Melo and Hans came down the stairs, yawning. He looked at them, scratched his head, let out a deep sigh, and spoke.
"Kids."
"Yes."
"Yes, Young Master."