Chapter 50
"Of course, that's only looking at the Manhattan you just made. Your actual skill isn't at the level where you can call yourself a Professional Bartender yet, so don't get too excited."
"Ahem, well said. It's only at the level of imitating whiskey, after all. Compared to a Manhattan made with high-quality, genuine whiskey, there is a World of Difference in taste."
What are they doing.
I was Speechless watching the Troublemaker Detective and Tony taking turns raising their glasses and exchanging banter.
Since when did those two get along so well.
Praising and then criticizing, lifting up and then dragging down.
They were absolutely top-tier at playing with a person's feelings.
It felt a bit uncomfortable to just accept it as a favorable review, but it was also hard to take it as a harsh criticism.
I decided to just think of it however was comfortable for me. Seeing as they drank it all to the end, it must have been delicious.
It was true that there was room for improvement and parts to supplement, but just as I thought at first, this was my best.
I made it with such intense concentration that I wondered if I had fallen into a Trance State, so even if I were told to do it again, it would be hard to produce a better result than this.
As I wiped the beads of sweat forming on my forehead and the back of my neck, I felt a pair of sparkling eyes staring this way.
"…Why are you looking at me so burdensomely."
"You definitely said I could order as much as I wanted, didn't you?"
"I did say that."
"Then can I order just one more glass?"
"…."
"Why are you giving me a look like you're staring at some hopeless Troublemaker? You definitely said I could order multiple glasses."
"I did… say that. That's right."
This damn mouth is the enemy.
Because the Troublemaker Detective was agonizing over what to drink for so long, I had told him to just order anything, and that he could order more if it wasn't enough, so he should order whatever he wanted.
It was a mistake to just blurt that out with the thought that Dragon President would pay for all the cocktails.
I had boldly spat out that he should order to his heart's content until opening time, so I could get plenty of Practical Training in as well.
How was I supposed to know that my mental energy would be this drained from just the first cocktail.
Because the Manhattan just now was made quite well, it felt like I had used up all my luck and skill on it.
That feeling of your body drooping and becoming lethargic as the tension completely releases after taking an important exam or interview.
My current condition was exactly like that.
If I made other cocktails again in this situation, I didn't think the results would come out as decently as the Manhattan.
"Don't worry. I won't make any unreasonable orders."
Did he feel sorry for the sight of me already drained of energy before we even started business.
The Troublemaker Detective said that as if doing me a favor and looked around the Holographic Menu.
He was humming, seemingly excited and delighted just imagining what to order.
If he truly felt sorry for me, he would have said he drank well at this point, that this was enough free liquor, and tactfully stopped drinking on his own, but not a chance.
The opponent was the Troublemaker Detective. A man who was more sincere about free liquor than anyone else.
He soon opened his mouth with an exclamation of 'Oh.' as if he had found a cocktail to his liking.
"Since I enjoyed the deep flavor of an antique cocktail, this time I want to feel the intense kick unique to a modern cocktail to balance it out… And if it's something you, Watson, could make without difficulty, aha, this would be good."
"Please don't bother adding extra explanations and just tell me quickly."
"Tsk, you have no romance. Understood, understood. I'll ask for a 'liquor cold enough to freeze you to the roots'."
Just like with the Queen of Cocktails earlier, it seemed he had developed a taste for giving riddles instead of saying the cocktail's name.
Even if I protested, he would just spout some bullshit about how a bartender should be able to clearly catch a Customer's unclear demands or whatever.
Well, it wasn't a difficult problem.
If it was a liquor cold enough to freeze you to the roots, there was only one.
『Cold Heart
"With just one glass of this, you can indirectly experience the lowest value of Thermal Entropy."
*Caution: Sale is Prohibited to those who have not received a level 2 or higher Digestive Organ Durability Modification Procedure.
Unimaginably cold. High alcohol content. For awakening.
variation: South Pole of the Moon, Crevasse Spike』
I smirked as I flipped through my Mental Manual.
It was a cocktail I personally thought was extremely fun.
Since it started with the letter C, I had the recipe memorized for sure.
The recipe was truly a headache.
You could say it was a recipe that gave the impression of, 'Yeah, it has to be at least this much to be called a Cyberpunk Bar cocktail.'
It was a sorry thing to say to Classic Cocktail Enthusiasts like that Troublemaker Detective over there or our Dragon President, but honestly, these Advanced Cocktails were much more interesting than boring classics.
The flaw was that even though I could make them for others, I couldn't drink them myself.
"Two glasses of Cold Heart, understood."
"Seeing as you say two glasses, it seems you haven't received a Digestive Organ Modification, Watson?"
"I'm actually surprised that both Tony and Mr. Holmes have received it."
To think that both of these seemingly perfectly ordinary people had their mouths, esophagi, stomachs, and large and small intestines plastered with Nano Surface Coating.
As I spoke while pulling out a bottle of Synthetic Gin, the Troublemaker Detective replied.
"You say that because you don't know how good this is. Once you get a Digestive Organ Modification, you never have to worry about problems with your oral cavity or teeth, no matter what food you consume the nutrients are properly regulated and digested, and you don't need to worry about constipation."
I would have thought he was doing some home shopping commercial.
Somehow wanting to interject at the Troublemaker Detective's serious voice listing all sorts of advantages, I spoke while pouring Dry Gin into the Mixing Glass.
"If the nutrients are properly regulated, why does your belly stick out like that."
"Belly? Are you talking about my belly? My abdomen is being managed to just the right degree. The fat, the muscle, the flesh are all appropriate. Rather, aren't you the one who's too skinny? You should put on some weight."
"…Yes, I'm sure it is."
Having more conversation on this topic would only be a loss for me.
Right. I should respect diverse perspectives on appearance.
Even though no matter how I looked at it, the Troublemaker Detective's bulging belly fat seemed to belong to the realm of clear obesity where personal preference couldn't intervene.
I dumped the rest of the Sweet and Sour Mix into the Mixing Glass, added a few Dried Basil Leaves, and then crushed them with a muddler, a tool similar to a small mortar used for mashing Cocktail Ingredients, to bring out enough of the aroma.
Up to this point, it was something you could easily find in a general Cocktail Mixing Process.
The real thing started now.
If the Manhattan was a part of the classy and traditional classic cocktail world, then conversely, the Cold Heart was a cutting-edge cocktail applying 22nd century technology.
It had to go through a rather complicated and annoying process.
However, as long as you memorized and familiarized yourself with that entire process, putting it into action wasn't that difficult.
If classics had simple recipes but were actually hard to make, you could say Advanced Cocktails had complicated recipes but guaranteed the intended taste just by following them exactly.
Either way, there were pros and cons.
Today, thanks to a thankful Customer, I would get to experience both.
"…And also, there's no need to worry in case someone slips poison into my food. Because the modified digestive organs automatically filter out toxic substances!"
Glaring sideways at that thankful Customer who was still enthusiastically talking about Digestive Organ Modification, I popped a Shape Change Prevention Capsule into the Cold Heart's Base Drink.
After mixing it well with a spoon, I could tell it was in just the right state after stirring it a few times.
After doing a few more chemical treatments, I poured the drink into a large Heat-Resistant Borosilicate Container.
In that state, I entered the Warehouse Connecting Room behind the table, opened the lid of the Heating/Cooling Radiator Machine that came up to my waist, and put the sealed container inside.
Just as the recipe instructed, a few minutes until the liquid's temperature reached a certain degree. Once it went through the compression process and its properties began to change, a few minutes again until it reached another degree.
After meticulously tweaking the machine's settings and pressing the start button, I could see it operating with a rattling noise.
After double-checking that there were no problems, I slipped out of the Machine Room.
It was a rather familiar sight, enough that Tony and the Troublemaker Detective watched in amazement.
I had handled similar types of machines before. At the Restaurant.
I had suffered quite a bit getting used to cutting-edge molecular gastronomy, but to think I would reuse what I learned back then for cocktails like this.
Life truly was unpredictable.
I returned to my spot and prepared small Heat-Resistant Shot Glasses to hold the cocktails after they were finished.
And… there was nothing more to do.
After about 5 minutes passed, I would have to go back in to check the cocktail's condition, but it was true that there was nothing else to do right now.
A skilled bartender would skillfully utilize even this brief interlude to converse with Customers or make other preparations.
With that thought, I looked at the Customer in front of me, then withdrew my gaze again.
Meeting the detective's eyes, which looked like a hyena aiming for its prey, somehow made me reluctant to strike up a conversation.
I naturally turned my gaze and looked at Tony next to him. That sight of him drooping lethargically again with his Manhattan glass completely emptied.
The sight of him lying face down using his right arm as a pillow brought to mind the scenery of a classroom during my School Days.
That right arm was a prosthetic too. Wouldn't it be hard if he used it as a pillow like that. Or maybe it was just similar to a human arm because of the Artificial Skin.
While having such idle thoughts, something suddenly came to mind.
Ah, right.
The Man Hunter's Arm.
I had forgotten. I was going to ask Tony about it.