The Bartender

“Hmm, if it’s a trainee bartender and not a regular, do they not even know how to bring out the flavor? This is a bit disappointing.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that, to provide the best experience for our customers, the service of an Official Bartender…”

“Well, if you don’t have the confidence to make it, I won’t force you. You talk a good game, so I wanted to see if your handiwork was as excellent as your words… but seeing you back out like this, it’s obvious without even looking.”

At Mr. Bing’s obvious provocation, I regained my composure and looked at him with an unimpressed gaze.

This somehow reminds me of my first day of work. I suffered a similar provocation back then from that troublemaker detective.

I remember eventually falling for it, utilizing my microchip to slam the Fallen Angel down onto the table to mix it.

'Thinking about it now, it’s a little embarrassing.'

To engage in such a battle of nerves with a troublemaker from the very first day… it seems I’ve built up quite a bit of venom surviving in this city, both then and now.

In fact, if you think about it, it was only two months ago. Yet it felt like a very long time ago.

It makes sense. It’s only been two months, but a lot has changed during that time.

It’s a funny thing to say about a fully grown adult, but I have definitely grown.

If I was a Newbie newcomer struggling to adapt back then, now, well,

I could be called a full-fledged trainee bartender who has finished adapting. Assuming I’m not being overly conceited, that is.

Naturally, my attitude toward such provocations had no choice but to change as well.

If a sharp reaction like 'You’re trying to test me? How dare you? I’ll show you who I am!' popped out on the first day, now it’s a relaxed state of mind, like “Hmm… you want to provoke me? What should I do…”.

Unlike back then, I was in a position where I didn’t need to be in a rush to prove my skills.

Whether Mr. Bing provoked me about lacking confidence or not, all I had to do was handle my assigned duties.

Even if there were times I filled in when it was busy, a proper Cocktail service like this was still the role of Official Bartenders.

That’s right. I could refuse. It was perfectly fine to make a different choice from the first day.

“Should I refuse?”

I asked myself for a moment, but it was an unnecessary question. I already knew the answer.

The me from the first day had a similar choice, but even then, I chose the option of serving with my own hands.

It was a massive overreach. In reality, if the microchip hadn’t triggered its activation right on time, I would have experienced considerable embarrassment and failure from day one.

Even so, I took the risk and made the dangerous choice.

If there was a difference from back then, it was that this time, I didn’t need to bear such a massive risk.

Fallen Angel?

I couldn’t guarantee the fantastic quality from back then, but now I can be confident in my ability to make it once and do a clean serving without using a microchip.

The Cherry Popper was the same. I had never made it myself, but the recipe was in my head.

It wasn’t a cocktail with that high a difficulty level anyway, so based on my experience of constantly mixing cocktails, I made the judgment that it would be a task I could handle without issue.

It was a similar provocation to back then, but if I didn’t even need to take on unnecessary risks this time, was there any reason to choose a different option?

No.

I smirked.

The me from the first day and the me now - many things had changed, but in the end, we were fundamentally the same person.

The kind of personality that, when provoked, only feels satisfied after accepting the challenge.

“Since you put it that way… I have no choice. I’ll have to show you my skills.”

“You seemed to lack confidence just a moment ago. You don’t have to force yourself. I don’t want to drink a bad-tasting drink either.”

“What I said remains the same. Don’t worry. If nothing else, the taste will be an incredibly naughty cocktail.”

At my boasting attitude, which had done a 180,, Mr. Bing smiled.

“Then I’ll look forward to it, Bartender.”

“I’ll show you what a trainee bartender of Dragon’s Lair is like.”

No long words were needed.

A bartender simply answers with drinks.

Since I had even put the name of Dragon’s Lair on the line, I would show him that a trainee bartender of Dragon’s Lair was on a different level from the apprentices of other bars.

I had to make an exclamation like “This is… a trainee bartender? Then what on earth have I been looking at until now…!” come out of Mr. Bing’s mouth!

Filled with such motivation, I went to the bar table and explained the situation to Tony, only to find Tony snickering.

To explain it a bit more specifically, it was a very unpleasant laugh. The way he looked over here giggling was as if…

Ah, don’t tell me?

“…Don’t tell me, you heard?”

“Pfft, no? I didn’t hear anything? I absolutely… absolutely didn’t hear that gentleman say 'You’re a virgin, aren’t you?!' to you. Yup, of course not. Heheheheh…”

God damn it.

I slapped my forehead. Then again, it was right before closing tasks so there was no one in the bar, and Mr. Bing didn’t exactly have a quiet voice, so of course he heard.

He was going to tease me terribly with this for a while.

“Your face and, pfft, your dick, gahahaha, are a waste, hahahaha… Ah, I’m dying of laughter. Man, I didn’t know, but that customer is a really funny guy, huh? Plus, his insight is outstanding. How did he know?”

“…”

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, that’s why I told you to stop making it so obvious you’re a virgin! What are you going to do if you get caught by a customer you’ve barely even seen! At this rate, rumors are going to spread all over the neighborhood that our youngest is a virgin! Hah… should this Hyung-nim give you a crash course on how to pick up women even now? Huh?”

“…”

I could feel the composure that hadn’t wavered even at Mr. Bing’s provocation shaking violently now.

I seriously pondered.

“…Is it time to bring out the sealed Black Flame… no, the chainsaw again?”

An ox-slaughtering knife for this chicken?

As if my thoughts were clearly revealed on my face, Tony flinched at my murderous glare and stepped back.

“What’s this? I just felt a strange chill. Why is my body suddenly shivering like this…? Did I catch a cold?”

Tony rubbed his goosebump-covered arms, told me to use his table to my heart’s content, and went into the rest area.

…Isn’t he just using the chills as an excuse to slack off and rest?

So very like Tony. How can a person be so consistent…

“Phew, concentration, concentration.”

I was definitely full of fiery enthusiasm just a moment ago, thinking 'I’ll show him what a trainee bartender of Dragon’s Lair is!', but now I feel like it’s cooled down a bit.

This is all because of Tony.

“…But if I ruin the cocktail, an excuse like that won’t mean a damn thing.”

I just have to do well, do well.

Now, let’s remember the recipe for the Cherry Popper. What were the necessary ingredients again?

First… cherries. Mr. Bing looked like he had a lot of money, so I took the precious frozen cherry pulp out of the refrigerator and scooped it into the body of the shaker with a spoon. He certainly looked wealthy enough to afford this.

And the essential ingredient that goes into this kind of refreshing cocktail is artificial lime juice. I poured 1 ounce of it into a jigger and added it.

To this, I added the standard ingredient for red-colored cocktails: grenadine pomegranate syrup. I poured 1 ounce of that as well… Now, I added the alcohol.

I knew both rum and vodka were possible as the base liquor… but the one Sey made for me was a Vodka Base, so let’s go with a Vodka Base.

I found a suitable vodka, poured the designated amount, and took out a muddler. It was time to crush them for the first round so the ingredients would mix, not mashing them too much, just enough for the pulp and liquid to clump together appropriately.

After that, I took out some ice, put it in, and covered it with the strainer and cap.

I held the cap with my thumb and secured the strainer with my middle and index fingers. With my left hand, I grabbed the base to hold it stably.

Preparation complete.

Now, all that was left were the highlight of the cocktail and the symbol of a bartender, shaking.

An experienced bartender must consider not only mixing the drink but also providing eye candy for the customer when shaking.

As if telling Mr. Bing to watch closely, I raised the shaker high and began to mix with a disciplined stance.

Chaka, chak, chakachakachaka chak, chakachakacha…

I shook it powerfully, giving a snap to my arms, with the thought that it was fine if the ice broke a little for a refreshing taste and texture.

In the end, the important thing was timing. If I took it out too quickly, the ingredients wouldn’t mix smoothly, but if I shook it for too long, too much water would mix in and the cocktail would become diluted.

Now!

In the case of the Ramos Gin Fizz, the very cocktail that had tormented my forearms, I had to shake the cocktail for minutes on end, but the Cherry Popper wasn’t like that.

My shaking senses, trained by the Ramos Fizz, were telling me that I had to finish it now.

I finished shaking and prepared the glass.

It was practically done. Now it was the finishing stage.

I took out a wine glass, held it upside down, coated the rim with syrup, and scattered CO2-condensed Cherry-flavored Popping Candy over it.

This made it look similar to a Margarita rimmed with cherry candy instead of salt.

To this, I took out a newly condensed, large black carbonated cherry crystal and placed it inside, drizzled a bit of syrup over it as well, poured the shaken cocktail, topped it with lemon lime soda again, and then mixed it just slightly with a bar spoon.

Now, if I just placed a single Ice Cherry right on the edge, it was done.

“Cherry Popper, complete.”