Red Eye

Thud.

As I approached and placed the juice bottle on the table next to her, Sey naturally took it and poured some into the glass.

The red Tomato Juice sank like smoke through the Golden Beer, changing its color.

After it was stirred with a Bar Spoon to mix it well, it was suddenly finished.

"Red Eye, here you go."

A hangover cocktail said to resemble eyes bloodshot from a hangover.

Once Sey pushed the glass with her fingertips to serve the Customer, I moved like flowing water, wiping away the moisture left on the bar by the Cold cocktail with a linen cloth.

Yeah, this is it.

When the Bartender pours the beer, the Barback hands over the juice, and when the Bartender pushes the glass forward, the Barback wipes the table.

This entire Process clicked together perfectly, like the movements of a precise Mechanical Device.

It might just be my own Delusion, but for a moment, I felt a sense of unity, as if the Bartender and I were moving as one body.

Of course, rather than it being purely my own skill, it was largely due to coincidence and the Head Bartender, Sey's, matching my rhythm as much as possible.

Even though I knew that, it felt pretty good.

It was different from task distribution or being an Assistant in a kitchen where multiple people are cooking various dishes at the same time.

A Barback works at a much closer distance, joining hands with a single Bartender for the one glass of alcohol needed in that moment.

Being someone's Assistant, cooperating and moving together with someone else... it wasn't easy. But because it was difficult, there was a sense of accomplishment and a strange thrill when pulling it off.

Furthermore, in those moments of making drinks together, there was even an intimacy that made me feel physically and psychologically much closer to the Bartenders.

Thanks to that, I might have been able to speak much more comfortably than before to Sey, who had always been a difficult person for me to Approach.

And in quite a cheerful tone, at that.

"I'd say I'm doing pretty well for my first time as a Barback."

"Well... didn't you get scolded by Tony just thirty minutes ago for bringing Scotch when he asked for American whiskey?"

A voice jabbing at my ribs.

Because a Cold retort pointing out my mistake came back immediately, I Flinched at first. But after stealthily studying her expression, I realized something.

The corners of Sey's mouth were turned up. There was even a slight hint of laughter in her tone.

It was a joke.

My god, to think the day would come when I'd hear a joke from that Ice Witch during work hours!

It seemed my thought that we had gotten at least a little closer wasn't just my own Delusion.

Ice Witch was Sey's nickname.

Just as Tony's nickname in the bar was 'Magician', Sey was called things like “Ice Witch” and “Ice Princess”.

I didn't know who came up with them, but they were fitting titles for that frigid face, stiff gaze, and voice.

However, she herself hated these nicknames so much that calling her by them to her face would guarantee you wouldn't escape death.

Tony had given me that supplementary explanation during our team Dinner.

Apparently, there were actually a few troublemakers who had thoughtlessly blurted out those nicknames and ended up half-dead, and Tony himself had once been beaten until a few of his bones broke after teasing her with them.

They were nicknames she loathed to that extent. It would be better not to even think about uttering them out loud.

If it hadn't been for the Truth or Dare game, I probably never would have heard them from her own mouth.

As someone whose nickname in the bar was “hand Butcher”, I could understand her feelings to some degree.

I don't have any Major complaints now since I am benefiting a bit from the nickname, but when I first got that alias full of malice and distortion, I truly cursed that Chainsaw Man Yangban who started the rumor.

Come to think of it, I wonder what that Chainsaw Man Yangban is doing right about now. He's definitely a burdensome guy in many ways, but since he also Saved My Life, I'd kind of like to see his face.

Though he's probably busy repairing the chainsaw that got ruined back then, or something like that.

"Come on, what am I supposed to do when none of the newly arrived Factory whiskeys have labels on them? I'm not at the stage where I can guess the type of whiskey just by looking at the bottle yet."

"I understand to some extent, but still, mistaking the Valentine series for an American whiskey is a bit too much, don't you think?"

Tsk.

Having nothing to say, I just smacked my lips.

Still, since I learned it for sure this time, I won't make a mistake from now on.

Though listening to Sey Step right up and explain it to me now, I probably couldn't make a mistake again even if I wanted to.

"Here, look. There are three main types of low-cost Scotch whiskey brands, and their respective trademarks look like this. This is the Valentine you just mentioned. The Valentine series is..."

The Valentine series whiskeys all originated from the Scotch whisky brand Ballantine's, which had a long tradition, and in the modern era, the company was acquired by Megacorp Valentine, #1 in Global Corporate Ranking, which created a specialized brand for Factory-made low-cost Scotch whiskey.

Originally, only liquor that strictly followed the regulations set by the Scotch Whisky Association could be called Scotch whisky, but after going through the environmental upheaval and the Corpo War, the association and Scotland fell into ruin and became Nominal; thanks to that, now any Tom, Dick, or Harry uses the name Scotch whisky.

Sey, who was serious about alcohol and cocktails if nothing else, started a lecture full of such informative but boring content, so I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut and listen.

Orders had stopped for a moment, so I thought we could chat and catch our breath. How did the cheerful bar suddenly turn into something resembling a classroom?

Since I was the one who brought up the related topic, I couldn't even complain. I had dug my own grave.

Sey's liquorology lecture continued until a new order came in, and only then was I barely able to catch my breath.

I can't even make jokes carelessly, man.

As I was Bustling about bringing Cocktail Ingredients again, Sey, who had swiftly started Cocktail Mixing, casually tossed out a question.

"So, what is it you want to ask?"

An Unexpected question at an abrupt time.

"...What do you mean, what I want to ask?"

"You started talking to me because you were curious about something. Am I wrong?"

My god. She's practically clairvoyant.

I protested to those gray eyes staring blankly in my direction.

"Uh, that's not necessarily it. It's true I had something to ask, but it's not like I only talked to you because of that, I just—"

It's my own mouth, but even I don't know what I'm saying right now.

I'm not the type to be told I'm bad at speaking wherever I go, but whenever I converse with Sey, it's always like this, a feeling of somehow getting swept up in her pace.

I stopped my incoherent rambling and sighed.

I need to get a grip. I was so flustered I almost took the wrong ingredients out of the fridge.

"—Well, yeah. No, I had. I have something I'm curious about."

"It's Fine, so from now on, don't walk on eggshells and just ask. I can Answer that much anytime."

"How do you know what I'm going to ask?"

When I asked reflexively, Sey nonchalantly pointed with her chin at the table in the center of the hall, the direction where the Machine Monk was sitting.

I got goosebumps for a second. How did she know?

Does she have a Telepathy Implant installed or something?

"I've felt this before, but can you read minds or something?"

"It's just the result of observation and deduction. A Head Bartender's Basic Aptitude."

"Wow, you sound much more convincing than a certain Detective."

When I threw out a joke with the former Troublemaker Detective—who had now changed his appearance to a Ronin—in mind, Sey chuckled.

Sey asked me, as I was inwardly feeling proud that my joke had landed.

"So, why are you paying Attention to that Monk?"

"He's such a unique character, and also..."

After hesitating for a moment, I lowered my voice and spoke.

"Someone told me that Monk is a fucking strong Shaolin Monk."

Sey raised an eyebrow.

"I think I know who said that without even looking. It must be that “certain Detective”. Have you guys gotten close? You seem to be talking a lot lately."

"No, what are you talking about?"

What an absurd thing to say!

Getting close to the Troublemaker Detective, my ass.

A weirdo like him and a normal person like me are constitutionally incompatible.

Since he's someone who knows a lot of things, I'm just using him as a business partner to extract information. We were never, absolutely never, close.

I denied it with a straight face, but Sey didn't seem to be listening very closely.

"Sure, if you say so."

"I mean it."

"I said I got it. More importantly, didn't you have something you wanted to ask?"

"Ah, right."

I almost forgot. After clearing my throat, I lowered the voice that had risen in excitement, and then asked.

"By any chance, do you know much about Shaolin monks?"

"Just as much as others know. Or maybe a little more."

A concise Answer was spat out as she shook the cocktail shaker, clack-clack.

Another voice was heard from the side.

"Hey, Aaron. Could you pass the vinegar?"

"Ah, here you go."

Just what kind of cocktail needs vinegar? Wondering this, I handed the vinegar to Tony, who was mixing a bizarre watermelon-colored drink next to us.

Then I continued asking Sey.

"What would be the standard for 'fucking'?"

To my roundabout question asking about the Monk's level of Force, Sey answered immediately this time as well.

"It differs from Person to Person. It's a question that can't be answered with a clear-cut response in the first place."

That was true.

Unlike a game, reality doesn't have clear-cut grades, and the same goes for results.

Just as I, who was nothing more than an ordinary person at an F+ level according to the supposedly accurate Isiho Human Resources Evaluation System, was able to kill the terrorist Boss, Ned Ludd.

Judging a person by numbers and standards was a highly inaccurate endeavor.

"And the reason you're curious about that?"

When Sey asked back, I was at a loss for words.

That I was pondering a plan to use that Machine Monk,

and that the Shaolin Monk seemed to have come as a corporate problem solver to Resolve the Militia Secret Research Institute data theft committed by Dead Cell—the Dead Cell-Militia Incident for short—and since I might be entangled in that incident, I wanted To Grasp the situation clearly.

I couldn't possibly Confess all of that so honestly.