The Alcohol Kicks In

[If you keep chugging it down, thinking it's sweet and sour and *oishii* (delicious), you'll be knocked out. It might not seem like it, but it's a cocktail with a surprisingly high alcohol content. And the serving size is generous. It's not called a “pickup drink” for nothing.]

At his words, I stopped drinking and took the straw from my mouth. Now that I thought about it, I felt a slight warmth rising in my face.

The atmosphere here was so lax that I'd momentarily forgotten, but then I remembered I was here to work.

And what I was drinking right now was none other than alcohol.

My alcohol tolerance wasn't that high. At most, it was about one bottle of soju.

Just as Mr. Dragon said, if I kept chugging it, I might actually get knocked out.

If I got completely wasted at my workplace on my first day of work, there would be no greater act of madness.

[Well, now that we've had some sake to wet our whistles, how about we get back to talking business?]

“Business? What business? Are you planning to do business with Nakamura-san here?”

[Ah, come to think of it, I haven't told you yet.]

The Dragon Manager took a swig of his drink and tossed out the words casually.

[This guy came here on a transfer from Headquarters. They told me to hire him as an Employee.]

“Huh? He's a Chef, you said. Why would a professional Chef come work as an Employee at our bar?”

[That's what I'm saying. I've been quite worried about it. There aren't many suitable tasks for him, and our establishment isn't exactly an environment where he can fully utilize his specialty.]

He said this, glancing at me with his bright yellow LED eyes.

*Hmm, this is my cue to speak.*

“You don't need to worry too much about that. While cooking is my specialty, I can handle any task you give me. That's why I came here.”

I meant it.

As for cooking, well, after falling into this World, there wasn't much else I could do. I accidentally became the star Chef of a Restaurant, so I had no choice but to study it diligently.

It became my specialty because I was trying to make a living and prove my worth to the company that held my life in its hands, but I never intended to make it my sole profession.

Originally, in the place I used to live, I wasn't a chef or a culinary student; I was just an ordinary university student majoring in humanities.

Cooking was merely a hobby I'd pursued since childhood, nothing more, nothing less.

Even if I can't use it now, it's just a bit disappointing, but it's not a major concern.

...Actually, it is quite disappointing. Given all the effort I put in, it's only natural. But what can I do?

I'm in a situation where I have to work here by the Chairman's orders, and the conditions here aren't suitable for utilizing my cooking skills.

I should just give it up cleanly.

Rather than the problem of not being able to use that trivial specialty, I'm more worried about the repercussions if I fail the mission the Chairman personally entrusted to me.

If a mere Foreign Worker like me were to indulge in petty pride and fail to prove my usefulness, and thus incur the Chairman's disappointment or wrath, my head would simply roll.

To prevent such a scenario, I had to do my best. I had to successfully become a member of this Dragon's Lair.

[Hmm... is that *honki* (sincere)? Or just something you blurted out in the moment? There's only one way to find out.]

Uttering a cheesy, otaku-like line, the Dragon Manager stroked the rough Metal Scales of his helmet.

[If an elite Talented Person like Nakamura-kun says so, then it's not like there are *no* tasks for you. It wouldn't hurt us to have an extra pair of hands.]

He continued to pour alcohol into the Dragon Helmet's mouth-like opening as if it were fuel, then shook the now-empty glass and said.

[However, I'm *shinpai* (worried) whether you can handle it. It's probably going to be quite difficult, annoying, and arduous work, the kind of work most people can't endure for more than a few days before quitting.]

*Was he trying to scare me, or was it really that difficult? I was unsure.*

Honestly, I wasn't that scared.

Even if it was a place the Chairman told me to keep a close eye on, and even if all the Employees had extraordinary aspects... it was still an establishment in the Outskirt Area, dozens of blocks away from the Central Area.

Its accessibility was poor, and the space wasn't that large, so how busy could it possibly get? Working here might have its own difficulties, but still.

Compared to my Restaurant days, when I worked like a dog for 13 hours a day, anything that comes up here would feel like Heaven.

Plus, I no longer needed to study Japanese, Japanese cuisine, or Plating outside of work hours. How happy was that?

*Ah, I might have to study alcohol, though.*

I was just tilting my head, thinking along those lines without much seriousness.

[Seeing that your appearance is composed, it seems my explanation alone isn't quite sinking in. Perhaps it's better to hear a vivid account from someone who actually works here. Hey, Tony!]

“Huh? Me? Why suddenly?”

[*Omae ga ittemite* (You Tell me). How arduous it is to work at our establishment.]

“Well, even if you suddenly tell me to say it, I need to think of something first...”

[Hurry up!]

It was a comical situation, with the President urging his employee to list the downsides of working at his own bar.

Tony scratched his disheveled hair and said:

“Even if you rush me like that, honestly, there's no other job like this... Ah, alright, alright. Just stop glaring at me. The only difficult things are that there's a lot of work, my day and night get flipped which isn't good for my health, and it's really hard to please my Superior.”

[Pleasing your Superior, my ass. Are you saying that for my benefit right now? Not *sore* (that).]

“Other than that, well, Troublesome Customers come often?”

Only then did the Dragon President clap his hands, as if he had finally gotten the answer he wanted.

[Yes, that! The Troublemakers. Do you know how many Lunatics come to our bar? Let's see, last time there was a *kyojin* (Lunatic) who, instead of using the perfectly good Restroom, insisted on hitting the bullseye of the dartboard with his stream of urine. And the time before that...]

“There was also a person who claimed a Bio-bomb was installed in their body and tore through the place, begging for help. They said drinking salt water would neutralize the explosive material inside them. Turns out it wasn't a bomb at all, but just a regular Data Chip that those bastards from Dead Cell had planted as a prank.”

[Right! And the time before *that*, a Talking Polar Bear even showed up.]

He declared triumphantly then added.

[Of course, that polar bear was *kawaii*. I could see why it was so popular, actively working as a CF model.]

“I, however, had a terrible time cleaning up all the shedding fur. It was a very educational experience, learning that polar bear fur isn't actually white, but transparent.”

[*So, so* (Yes, yes). You'll be going through a lot of those hardships.]

Then he looked at me... A Talking Polar Bear? Was I supposed to take this as a joke or seriously?

Unable to figure out how to react, I just took another sip of my Dusk Iced Tea. It was still delicious.

*Hmm, I felt like I was getting warmer and warmer. My body was flushed.*

At My Composed Appearance, the Dragon Helmet's faceplate furrowed.

[It seems it didn't get through to him at all. This is *zenbu* (all) your fault. You should have told him more vividly!]

“Hey, why are you blaming me? Who was it that suddenly brought up the cute polar bear story when things were going well? And it wasn't cute at all. In person, it looked absolutely terrifying.”

[Alright, just go away. You're impossible to talk to. And polar bears *are* cute. No arguments.]

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

After their skit-like conversation, the Dragon Manager sighed deeply and looked at me.

[*Dakara* (So)... you're not thinking of changing your mind, Nakamura-kun? If not, there's nothing for it. I'll just have to let you experience it firsthand. Just remember that I warned you sufficiently.]

“Yeah, well.”

[For now, let's say you'll work for a month as a sort of job trial. If you change your mind, tell me anytime. For me, having one more Employee is a bonus, right? Your salary comes from Headquarters anyway, not us, doesn't it?]

“As far as I know, yes.”

[Okay. You can take it easy, but if you work hard, I'll give you a bonus. Even if I look like this, I'm someone who takes good care of my Employees' *sararii* (salaries). Right, Tony?]

“It's frustrating, but it's true. The sad reality of Capitalism, where you have no choice but to bow before money.”

Sasha Dragon nodded, then swallowed the last drop of alcohol in his glass, along with the large ice cube, through the opening of his helmet, and spoke.

[Then it's decided. We'll discuss the detailed job description and work manual inside. And just to be clear, Nakamura-kun.

I might have seemed like I was just joking around, but I was absolutely not kidding. It would be best not to take working here lightly.]

*By this point, my stubbornness was kicking in. How many times had he told me that same story?*

*I even started to wonder if he was deliberately putting on this act to hide the bar's secrets, or his own peculiarities.*

*Or perhaps he was just looking down on me.*

*What kind of hell had I been through to get here?*

I was a person who had adapted to the Cyberpunk game World, overcoming countless difficulties as if tempering steel.

How many hardships did an ordinary modern person from the 21st century endure, surviving five months in the messed-up Future City of the 22nd century?

He seemed to think that because I was a Chef, an elite Talented Person, I hadn't experienced such hardships, but he was gravely mistaken.

There's a reason they call it Hell's Kitchen. There's no Hell quite like a Kitchen.

And Troublesome Customers? I didn't even need to recall my Restaurant work experience for that.

In my Previous World, I'd worked night shifts at a Convenience Store and ridden Line 1 to School, encountering countless villains.

Add to that the mental fortitude I'd developed living in the chaotic Dusk City, which was always five minutes from disaster, and I was confident I could steadfastly endure any Extraordinary thing that happened.

“I also have something to say.”

With that, I looked directly into the Dragon Helmet's two eyes and opened my mouth.

“Sasha, you'd better be prepared.”

[...*Nanno* (What) preparation?]

“The preparation for me to squeeze a huge bonus out of you, because I'm going to work relentlessly, very diligently. As the Chairman said, I'm the kind of guy who does anything well when told. You should worry about a month from now.”

*I wondered if I was being too presumptuous, but perhaps it was the alcohol kicking in; my mouth was moving on its own.*

“Because in a month, when my job trial period ends, you'll be desperate to hire me as a full-time employee. Because I'll be *that* good at my job.”

[...]

A brief silence fell.