Granfen (6)
"One! Two! Three!"
"If you think the drink is delicious~ please raise your glass above your head~!!"
Despite the host's desperate shout,
"......"
None of the judges could raise their glass.
'Is it really sothing to agonize over that much?'
The bald old man crossed his arms and nodded his head slightly before opening his mouth.
"Hey, host. We're supposed to judge based on taste alone, right?"
The host was flustered by what could be seen as an extrely obvious question,
but soon collected himself and answered.
"Of course, battalion commander. We put on blindfolds specifically to judge only by taste!"
The battalion commander twirled his mustache and said,
"Hoho. Very well. You all heard that, didn't you? Only taste! Judge solely on taste."
The judges nodded as if it was all decided,
but I couldn't help but feel a jolt of anxiety inside.
Because,
'The battalion commander must know which one is my drink.'
It's really self-evident.
My makgeolli is made primarily from [shop window] rice and sugar.
If you drink a good amount of makgeolli, you get a buff, so the battalion commander would naturally know.
'Then why did he say sothing like that?'
Why would he bother to say, "Judge just by taste," when he already knows which glass is mine?
While I was lost in these distractions,
all nine judges made their decision and raised their glasses above their heads...
"No! This is completely unexpected~?!"
The host exclaims in a high-pitched voice, and the spectators also erupt in wonder at the sa ti.
Soon after, my eyes t Dunbell's.
Because—
'All white cups? A unanimous decision?'
It was the exact opposite of what the judges had said earlier, claiming it was impossible to choose which was tastier.
Every single judge had made a unified decision.
'9:0? How did this happen?'
Even if I were to win, I never imagined it could be unanimous.
Even if it was a close win at best,
or in the rare case of a crushing victory,
'I thought at the very least Hank would cast a vote against !'
That Hank guy still made nervous.
My expression must have looked terribly unsightly.
But unlike , Dunbell wore a relaxed smile,
as if he was completely confident of his victory.
It seed the audience felt the sa.
"As expected of Wyvern Tail!"
"How could so outsider beat Dunbell's drink!"
The audience, as if they had never been silently still, began to chant Dunbell's na together.
"Dunbell!"
"Dunbell!"
"Dunbell!"
As a feeling of faintness washed over , sweat trickled down my back.
My wandering gaze landed just beside the stage, at our shop stall.
There I saw Pab's tense face and Plerine's blank expression.
Bzzzt.
A spark flickered across her face, so I shook my head.
anwhile,
"It's not over yet!"
Naba, tears welling up in his eyes, yelled out with his hands over his mouth.
"There's no way we're going to lose our shop like this! We definitely won! No! We WON, we did!!"
The kid's desperate cry was drowned out by the crowd's cheers,
but as a 3rd-rank, his voice hit my ears perfectly.
'It feels like my employee is more desperate than I am. Really.'
What a fine attitude from my number one employee and senior longest in service.
I'm proud.
I really recruited good people.
So,
'I can't let myself look weak in front of my crew.'
I raised both hands and slapped my cheeks. SMACK!
Not enough. One more!
Smack!
Good. Now I'm feeling more alert.
This level of pain should be punishnt enough for even thinking about enacting plan B.
Of course, everyone except the judges was staring at stupidly,
'But who cares about that? Regaining my spirit is what matters.'
After all, victory has always depended on spirit.
Like how seven out of ten rounds of rock-paper-scissors are decided by bravado,
I also beat Pab in a duel with nothing but spirit.
'So, a cooking competition is also about indomitable spirit!'
After taking a deep breath, I shouted at Dunbell.
"Hey, Dunbell! Since it's a 9:0, accept the results cleanly and keep your promise. The loser hands over the shop without another word."
With that, "Plan B"—talking my way out and escaping if I lost—is scrapped for good.
"... What?!"
Dunbell scoffed, as if he couldn't believe it, and retorted.
"That's what I was about to say! Hey, host! Announce it imdiately. The white glasses are my drink, right?!"
Only then did the host seem to regain his wits and nervously swallow.
"Th-Then, before I announce the results... Let quickly check if I'm rembering correctly."
The host hurried offstage, whispered to Pab, and then returned.
"Ehm, I-I'll announce the results."
The host looked around at the audience for a mont for dramatic tension.
"The winner of the white glasses of liquor is~! It's—!!"
Ah, it'd be perfect if a drumroll sounded at tis like this.
But everyone was utterly silent, so it was almost as good.
"Ian of Happiness Gukbap!"
Amazing... Wait, what?
"C-Congratulations!"
"......"
While everyone, myself included, was frozen by the announcent,
"Gah!"
I collapsed onto the stage.
It wasn't because Dunbell hit .
Naba rushed in and tackled with a shoulder charge—not a hug.
Getting knocked over by a re zero-rank kid as a mana user—humiliating.
"See! I told you we'd win! I said we would, boss!! Uwaaah!"
"Boss, our drink won! It was a landslide victory!"
Harper and Naba shook vigorously, so I ruffled Naba's hair in return.
I didn't dare do that to the older Harper.
"I told you to trust ."
Even this bit of belated swagger was only possible because I'd won.
'I really did it. We won.'
So victory really does co down to spirit.
Nothing could be more delightful—
"That's impossible. This can't be happening."
A low voice caught everyone's attention.
"Not a single vote for ? My drink? For our Wyvern Tail?!"
Dunbell stomped toward the host.
"Enough."
Pab, Granfen's gibbon and the icon of sincerity as well as the competition's referee, blocked his way.
"This is as far as you go. Not a single bit of tampering happened in this competition. I swear on my honor as a soldier."
"B-But...!"
"I staked my honor. If you say anything more, I'll let that sword of mine do the talking."
As expected from soone who has nothing in his head except honor and swords, Pab imdiately drew his blade.
But the battalion commander, now unblindfolded, stopped him.
"Pab, my friend. Swords don't suit a cooking competition. This isn't an honorable duel. Hoho."
Fortunately, Pab sheathed his sword at the battalion commander's voice. Phew.
"My apologies."
"Think nothing of it. Anyway... Dunbell, have a taste of the drink Ian made."
Before the battalion commander even finished,
Pab zipped offstage, brought the white glass to Dunbell, and handed it over.
He's quick, as always, just like during the duel.
"Hoho. Drink it calmly and think it over."
Dunbell glanced in silence between the glass and the battalion commander,
jaw muscles tightening as he received the drink.
'He must be curious. Is my drink really that good?'
Then, in a gesture unbefitting his big fra, Dunbell elegantly wafted the aroma toward his face.
"T-This is..."
He took a slow sip,
closed his eyes and rolled the liquid about his mouth.
Then he took a deep breath and swallowed.
"......"
The square fell silent,
but everyone could see the glass trembling in his hand.
"Damn it!!"
Soon Dunbell brought the glass to his lips again.
Gulp. Gulp!
Clank.
The empty glass clattered onto the stage.
His knees fell beside the empty glass, thudding onto the stage floor.
"Uwaaaahhh!!"
Dunbell buried his face in his massive hands and scread.
No one could mistake that cry for anything but a declaration of defeat.
'It's hard not to feel for the guy seeing him like this.'
Had the situation been reversed, I might have acted just as pathetically.
The pain of losing a beloved shop. Damn, it would be hell just to imagine it.
'But it's mine now, right?'
anwhile, the spectators muttered in disbelief at what they witnessed.
"Is this right?"
"Did Dunbell really lose?"
"Did Dunbell actually lose in a drinking contest?"
Yet no one dared to step forward recklessly.
"Hoho. Then let's begin the eve-of-departure festival."
The battalion commander stepped up and neatly sorted everything out.
Now, it was ti to burst our fireworks of victory.
* * *
The eve-of-departure festival everyone in Granfen had been waiting for—
and the cooking competition between Wyvern Tail and Happiness Gukbap.
The townsfolk were in utter shock at the result.
No matter how unique and delicious the outsider's food at Happiness Gukbap was,
when it ca to alcohol, it was always considered the worst.
Ever since the announcent that the competition nu would be liquor, everyone was confident in Wyvern Tail's victory.
But the result was the exact opposite.
The judges unanimously awarded victory to Happiness Gukbap.
And there was definitely no foul play.
After all, Pab had been the moderator.
No one doubted the fairness.
And most of all,
Dunbell's reaction after drinking the outsider's liquor.
― Uwaaaahhh!!"
The regulars who loved Wyvern Tail felt pangs of heartbreak.
Just how—
'Just how good was this outsider's drink, anyway?!'
As soon as the eve festival began, the regulars rushed to Clara's stall at Wyvern Tail.
They sampled the drink Dunbell had made for the contest and furrowed their brows.
'Kiyalon blossom wine?!'
The kiyalon blossom, hailed as the best tea leaf in the southwest of the Belkhazium continent.
A honey liquor made with the aroma of that blossom as its base.
A pleasant floral fragrance and bitterness lingered in the mouth,
with the clean, refreshing snap of alcohol and just the right amount of honey's sticky sweetness wrapping delicately around the tongue.
It was a perfect balance of flavors.
Even Wyvern Tail's regulars were astonished,
wondering whether in all their lives they had ever tasted a drink this good.
It really was a legendary drink, they had to admit.
Which made it all the harder to accept the outco.
'This drink lost? Unbelievable!'
The regulars gave a few words of consolation to Dunbell and Clara,
then made a beeline for the Happiness Gukbap stall.
If, by chance, this new liquor was less tasty than Wyvern Tail's blossom wine,
they wouldn't let it slide.
They were ready to raise hell!
When they reached the Happiness Gukbap stall, as expected, soldiers stood guard.
And on their faces...?
'What's with these guys? Did they all take sothing?'
They seed more intoxicated than regular drunks.
No, they looked enraptured.
The soldiers all spoke in unison.
"It's unbelievably good!"
"This is crazy, it's crazy! Ian! One more glass—no, make it two!!"
"How'd you co up with a drink like this! Is it even possible to make booze this tasty?"
In disbelief, they showered praise and downed their drinks.
Had sothing really been put in the booze?
Thunk!
"Four glasses here, please."
They looked at the drink handed over by a waitress in a blindfold.
Wyvern Tail's regulars frowned as they saw what was inside.
A white, cloudy drink—sothing they'd never seen before.
'This milky stuff looks like goat milk—this is supposed to be alcohol?'
They instinctively felt resistance, but seeing other custors' reactions, there was no way not to try it.
As soon as they brought the cup to their mouths—
"......?"
All four rolled their eyes so hard their whites showed.
"!!!!"
A biting, tangy, yet refreshing taste they'd never experienced before!
A fizzy sensation coolly wet their mouths and circled powerfully on the palate.
Then a mysterious, intense, and yet pleasant sweetness followed.
It was so novel and electrifying that their whole bodies tingled.
'It's a taste that's neither honey nor fruit—sothing completely new!'
There was a reason the soldiers had made such a fuss.
It truly was "I've never tasted this before but it's absolutely enchanting."
Thunk!
The four empty cups hit the table almost at the sa ti,
and the drinkers glanced at each other.
They were all thinking the sa thing, but hesitated to be first to speak,
when a young busboy ca by and asked,
"Would you like four more, sirs?"
They nodded silently,
but one found the courage to call out to the boy running away.
"Hey kid! What do you call this drink?"
The boy stopped, turned, and shouted cheerfully,
"Makgeolli!"
〈 The custor is satisfied with the service. 〉
〈 You have earned 1 'satisfaction'. 〉
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