The Bartender He Wants

This was a headache-inducing situation.

"Just drink what Tony mixes for you."

"I refuse. Even now, just looking at a cocktail made by that fellow brings the fishy stench of fish sauce to my nose. You could say it left me with Trauma."

"Then I'll go get Ms. Sey. You said she was in the Rest Area, right? I'll go bring her right away."

"Forget it. Just get behind the table. The Bartender I want is right here, so there's no need to bother anyone else, is there?"

Ah, this Mister is seriously so damn persistent.

I said with a straight face.

"I'm telling you this because you don't seem to know, but it's only been six days since I started working. And it's only been five days since I started learning about cocktails.

I am absolutely not at the level to do Cocktail Making in front of a Customer yet. I'm sorry, but I think it would be better for you to just get your bartending from Ms. Sey."

Then as now, my philosophy remained the same.

One should never take risks with the food served to a Customer.

Wasn't that why I agonized for so long when Serving the Fallen Angel? Even though I ended up falling for the provocation in the end.

Even if he was a Troublemaker Detective who just came to get free booze, a Customer was a Customer.

And my Bartending Skill was still at a level too embarrassing to show off in front of a Customer.

Realizing from my firm tone of refusal that there was no room for negotiation, the Troublemaker Detective seemed to accept it.

"...Then it can't be helped. If it's only been five days."

See, he wasn't someone you couldn't reason with at all.

The Self-Proclaimed Holmes smacked his lips and looked at Tony with an unsatisfied gaze.

"I hate it, but it can't be helped. It would be strange to complain when I'm getting a free drink. For today, I suppose I'll have to drink the liquor the Magician gives me."

I let out a Sigh of Relief, thinking I had somehow smoothed things over, but suddenly a variable arose from Tony's side.

"Hmm... I think a little differently."

He was smiling ominously with his chin resting on the Bar Table. Somehow, I had an Ominous Premonition.

"I think it'd be fine for you to serve him yourself, Nakamura."

Unbelievable. My jaw dropped at the betrayal of the Tony I had trusted, while the Troublemaker Detective was the one to raise a question instead.

"But according to what Watson just said, wouldn't normal bartending be impossible? Unless he received an Illegal Memory Injection Procedure, there's no way he could properly mix drinks after studying for a mere five days."

A situation where the Detective was actually taking my side instead.

Just as I was nodding, thinking he was absolutely right, Tony shrugged and said.

"That would be the case for a normal person."

"Oho... So you're saying Watson isn't a normal person."

The Troublemaker Detective sank deep into his chair and looked my way, as if his interest was piqued.

Shuddering at that somewhat sinister gaze, I approached Tony.

"Is this for real? If you have a complaint with me, just say it with words."

"Why, just give it a try."

"You know better than anyone that I don't have that level of skill yet, so why are you doing this."

At my urgent protest, spat out without even breathing properly, Tony yawned sluggishly and said.

"But if you don't do it, you'll just stay at that incapable level. You have to do it to improve your skills, don't you?"

"Wow..."

"What?"

"That remark just now sounded like something you'd find digging through a self-help phrase library."

"Was it a bit cringey?"

"Rather than cringey, it makes you sound old."

"So you're saying I sounded like a Kkon-dae. Damn it, I can't even refute that. Now that I'm nearing thirty, these kinds of words just pop out naturally. Am I catching it from the Boss?"

"Cheer up."

I offered a word of consolation to Tony, a sprightly 28-year-old who was a youth in heart only, and asked.

"So, am I really doing this?"

"Yeah, do it. Opportunities like this are rare. Testing your capabilities against an actual Customer outside of business hours.

It'll definitely feel a lot different from when you make cocktails in front of me or Sey. You'll get the feeling that it's actual combat, not practice."

Well, Tony aside, making a cocktail in front of Sey made me so nervous it practically felt like actual combat.

Anyone would end up like that standing in front of those icy gray eyes.

"That might be true, but on the flip side, shouldn't I be more careful because it's actual combat? I really have no confidence."

Tony snorted at my words.

"I don't want to hear whining like that from a guy who memorized nearly a hundred Cocktail Recipes In Three Days. Cut it out."

"No, that's just memorization ability. My brain has been working pretty well lately, but that's different from actually mixing drinks. I haven't even fully mastered the Cocktail Mixing Technique yet."

"Quiet. Stop making such a fuss. You were going to do Cocktail Practice in front of me anyway. Just think of it as adding one more person to serve."

As if it could be as easy as it sounds.

And making a fuss? It was a fact that I had no confidence.

Tony whispered to me as I still hesitated.

"And the best part is, if you make it and serve it under the guise of making a Practice Cocktail, the Boss will cover all the costs.

The Boss said so, right? That she'd pay for the money it takes for you to learn cocktails. If you make it yourself, you won't have to buy that Detective a drink with your own money."

"...!"

It was a statement that made my eyes snap wide open.

He's right. Why didn't I think of that?

Without realizing it, I asked back in an equally low voice.

"Are you sure about that?"

It absolutely wasn't that I was bending my philosophy on food service because I didn't want to pay for the drinks, I was just purely curious.

It absolutely wasn't that I was suddenly tempted because of the recent hemorrhage in my bank account, nothing like that.

Nod.

I gulped as I watched Tony nod his head.

From the side, I could hear the Troublemaker Detective shouting something about what kind of secret conversation the two of us were having, when we were finally going to take his order, and how he wouldn't sit still if we served him a Trap Cocktail again.

Money, or beliefs.

Standing at the crossroads of choice, I squeezed my eyes shut.

* * *

"Today is a day where I wish to enjoy both antique and modern liquors together."

The Customer said, stroking his bushy mustache.

"Shall we enjoy the aesthetics of the old first... For the base liquor, whiskey would be best. Isn't there a saying that there are no bad whiskeys in the World?"

"Are you trying to order an Old Fashioned?"

"No, for my palate... something a bit sweeter suits me better. Yes. That would be good. Prepare the “Queen of Cocktails” for me, Bartender. I feel like receiving Her Majesty the Queen today."

"If it's the Queen of Cocktails, the spelling starts with M, so he probably hasn't memorized it yet. He can probably only make the ones near the front of our menu based on alphabetical order."

"Ah, is that so. This is troubling. Must I order a different cocktail..."

Watching the two Customers converse, the Bartender said.

"I can do it. Three glasses of the Queen of Cocktails?"

"You can do it? You've already memorized up to M?"

"Not exactly, but this cocktail is incredibly famous, isn't it."

There were just so many famous cocktails under the letter M. Having skimmed through it a few times beforehand, the recipe was in my head.

And... well.

Yes. What was there to hide.

I was the Bartender. At least in this spot, I was. I ended up mixing the cocktails.

I would have nothing to say even if I was cursed at for abandoning my belief and integrity of not taking risks in front of a Customer. Because it was the truth.

So what. What could I do when I had no money.

No Superhuman could ever overcome the logic of a Capitalist Society.

The drink prices were too expensive for me to pay.

Just the “Queen of Cocktails” we were talking about cost around 200 City Dollars.

My monthly salary was about thirty thousand City Dollars, and assuming I worked every day for a month, my daily wage would be about a thousand City Dollars, which meant that drinking just five glasses of the “Queen of Cocktails” would wipe out my entire day's pay.

Five cocktails were equivalent to a day's worth of labor for the human known as Jo Aron, Aaron Nakamura. Did that make any sense?

It wasn't something I should say as someone working in a bar, but the people who chugged down such expensive cocktails like water truly seemed out of their minds.

Even though I had learned a lot about how to enjoy cocktails, their aesthetics, and their tastes over the past few days, it was still difficult for me to understand those who poured fortunes into alcoholic beverages.

It would be one thing if they got tastier the more expensive they were, but the World of Cocktails was truly profound, so there were actually many cases where the more expensive a cocktail was, the more bitter, potent, and tasteless it became.

How would this cocktail turn out, I wondered.

I opened my Mental Manual.

If it was the Queen of Cocktails, it had to be this.

"Manhattan

"Long Live the Queen."

-The last prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Winston Charles Edward.

Classic, high proof, sweetness within bitterness.

variation: Perfect Manhattan, Black Manhattan, Rob Roy"

Manhattan. A cocktail that held the nickname of the Queen of Cocktails.

The recipe was definitely in my head. It hadn't been hard to memorize, after all.

Characteristic of a Classic Cocktail, especially a Whiskey-Based Cocktail: the recipe is simple.

It was truly simple.

Without any difficulty, you just had to stir whiskey, Fortified Wine, and bitters together with ice, strain out the ice, and pour it into a glass, and that was it.

However, the fact that the recipe was simple also meant that the taste could vary wildly depending on the quality of the ingredients and the skill of the Bartender.

And at Dragon's Lair, which was a Franchise bar and not a hotel bar, it was impossible to bring out the taste of a cocktail through the quality of its ingredients.

They were all just Factory-Made Chemical Mixed Drinks, after all. High-quality whiskey my ass; I had no choice but to combine them in an effort to produce a taste as similar to high-quality whiskey as possible.

In any case, true to his nature as a Troublemaker Detective, he had placed a Difficult Order that seemed easy at first glance but was actually damn hard when you picked it apart.

If I made even the slightest mistake, he would point it out immediately.

As seen with the Fallen Angel last time, the Self-Proclaimed Holmes was incredibly obsessed with Cocktail Orthodoxy and the basics.

True to a professional-level Troublemaker who had tormented countless servers and Bartenders, there was a high chance he would refuse to drink the cocktail altogether if it didn't suit his palate even a little.

It felt like meeting a Boss right from the tutorial.

I didn't know what Tony was thinking, demanding that I try making a cocktail for this kind of person already.

Phew.

After agonizing over it, I grabbed the jigger, an hourglass-shaped measuring tool, with a trembling hand.

Alright, let's give it a try. It'll work out somehow.