Ch.174Two Face’s Customers – Four Office Workers

# The Bartender’s Life

A bartender’s life, at first glance, seems like an endless repetition. To live like a proper human being, one must find joy within that repetition.

Usually, such joy comes from the customers. The patrons of Bar Two Face tend to be quite distinctive.

There’s Mrs. Grimes who visits during the day, clutching The Reasonable Insight while singing praises about reason and rationality all morning. Then there’s Mickey who occasionally drops by at night, bringing familiar scents… And Miss Rose, who used to come during the day but now frequently visits at night, along with Mr. Draig. It seems all the two-faced people in the city gather at Two Face.

After the daytime cafe business ends, I take a short break. I do some stretching, then with the cafe door closed, I take a walk around the rather pleasant streets nearby. The garden scents delight a werewolf.

When I lived with Mickey… or more precisely, until Mickey left home to join the war, I would often pretend to be weak and ask him to move the flowerpots for me.

He still does it occasionally. “You seem to be spending all your precious free time growing plants,” he would tease, though he remembered each and every one of those plants.

On the second floor of Bar Two Face, behind a rather stiff door that I only enter occasionally to clean, Mickey’s room still remains.

He won’t be coming back. The day Mickey left to join the war, we drifted apart. Yet I couldn’t let go of my lingering attachment.

Mickey was no longer that kind, gentle, and accommodating boy, but he was still Mickey. It’s an obsession. It’s attachment. Only after declaring this to myself could I continue my walk.

When walking through residential areas, unleashed dogs often bark. Werewolves emit a slight wolf scent even without transforming, and dogs can detect it.

Before the entire street fills with barking, I bare my teeth and growl once at the large Rottweiler who started barking first. The dog easily quiets down.

“That’s right, good boy. Why do you have to bark every time I come out for a walk, Rosie?”

The growl warning not to enter my territory was also a declaration that I had no intention of invading its territory. A guard dog’s job was to fight intruders, not to pick fights indiscriminately.

I decided to end my walk after circling the nearby residential area once. Tomorrow was a day off from bar operations, so perhaps I’d go see a movie in the evening. If I went, it would be better to go for a late-night showing.

A transformed werewolf’s body was large, and embarrassingly, with instincts similar to dogs, stretching out sideways on empty chairs felt incredibly comfortable.

Returning to the back room of the bar, I threw myself onto the bed that still carried Mickey’s scent from his recent stay and slept for about an hour. I woke up feeling my hair beginning to stand on end.

I needed to prepare for Two Face’s night operations. After tidying my clothes and checking if there were any worn spots on my elastic werewolf suit, I walked back to the bar.

I drew the thick curtains and flipped the closed sign to open. The night customers disliked flooding in right at closing time like workers.

An orc with red skin wearing sunglasses was the first to walk into Two Face. It was Draig, seemingly arriving earlier than usual today. He removed his sunglasses as soon as he entered the bar.

Behind the sunglasses, his eyes were slit vertically like a reptile’s. That’s why he wore them—to avoid the discomfort those eyes caused others. He cleared his throat once.

“I’ll start with a coffee. I’m not drinking it to wake up, so add plenty of milk and sugar.”

I chuckled briefly at his words. Draig was a regular customer with whom I could comfortably joke.

“The gnolls would be horrified to hear that, wouldn’t they? They’re quite particular about their coffee.”

“Let them be. It’s not like they can mess with a dragon anyway.”

Draig was always confident, but when that confidence spilled outward, it usually meant he had something to complain about. That’s probably why he came early.

After serving him coffee, I waited a moment, and when he still didn’t speak, I tapped the bar a couple of times with my finger. He opened his mouth as if conceding defeat.

“Did you know that magic for reading others’ minds is patented, so not just anyone can use it?”

He seemed displeased at being read again. The dragon, over six hundred years old, enjoyed guessing what others would say or think, but not the other way around.

“That’s why I don’t use it, right?”

“The fact that you don’t use it is what irritates me. If you did use something like that, I could at least criticize you… Anyway, these short-lived species. Two people suddenly went AWOL from the South Manhattan branch, so I went to check what was going on, and those two were completely wrapped up in each other. Why do short-lived species act like that? Can they… not control themselves?”

I laughed again at his words. Only dragons could calmly endure sexual desire for years at a time.

“One of the conditions of being human is not having a specific mating season, right? Conversely, you could say they’re always in heat. Nothing serious happened, did it?”

“It’s a long story. Something did happen, so I just gave them both a warning and let it go… Anyway, these short-lived species.”

Since I had already drawn the curtains, I made a sweet and sour cocktail like last time and pushed it toward him. Nothing calmed this dragon’s anger better than a drink.

“I don’t have much to comfort you about today. You did your job well, didn’t you? Have this drink and cheer up, Draig.”

The dragon, unable to say anything nice, downed the offered drink like water. For a species that wouldn’t get drunk even if they drank an entire barrel, alcohol was consumed for its taste.

It was gradually passing six o’clock. Cafe Two Face had completely transformed into Bar Two Face. There were still no signs of transformation. In summer, when the sun sets late, the transformation also comes late.

Vampires who dislike the decadent atmosphere of Bar Enoch frequent Two Face. The seats were gradually filling up when I heard several cars entering the parking lot from outside.

For a secret bar, it’s certainly not very secretive. While some bars even advertise on the streets—not that I should talk as a bar owner—I wasn’t used to customers arriving so noisily.

I thought four cars might mean about ten people, but only four people entered after passing the bouncer. Perhaps they were office workers who each drove their own car? The four seemed quite close.

The elf who entered first clicked his tongue twice briefly at the large human who entered second. The second man was a fighter. There were marks of scraped knuckles on the backs of his hands.

“Warren, go place the order. I’ll secure us a table. You know what everyone likes, right?”

Behind them, an ogre as round as a ball barely squeezed through the door, followed by a man who appeared to be the oldest of the four. The last man’s species was unidentifiable. He seemed to be of mixed blood.

They must work at the same company. Otherwise, there aren’t many reasons for men to hang out together.

The human with hair thick on the backs of his hands like a beast or a werewolf about to transform, with a beard and hair connecting to his sideburns, grumbled at the elf who had entered first.

“If you came in first, you should do it yourself, Connor. Well, I suppose I will…”

As he approached the bar, I moved from in front of Draig toward where the man was walking. Though he looked like a barbarian, he was quite modern.

“Ah, this is my first time here with an invitation from an acquaintance… Do you have coffee and Blue Absinthe? That fat guy over there says he won’t drink alcohol because of his weight, and the old man only drinks Blue Absinthe.”

They were clearly close friends. The casual use of rude nicknames spilling out even to strangers indicated as much. Blue Absinthe—it wasn’t a frequently ordered drink due to its dull color, but I had a bottle.

“I can see you’re not skinny… but you’re not extremely thin either, right?”

The man before me burst into laughter and shook his head.

“It’s obvious what I need to pour down to get as fat as him. Beer. No need to worry… Oh, and please give me a Silver Bullet and a Dragon Slayer too. One will start with a cocktail.”

Having overheard our conversation, the elf sitting at a nearby table tossed a Two Face invitation toward the human in front of me. He naturally caught the invitation and placed it on the counter.

I hadn’t asked for such proof, but it was definitely a Two Face invitation. I didn’t show any further suspicion. If a regular wanted a new invitation, he would have provided it.

“I’ll bring them right over, Mr. Warren.”

The bushy-haired man gave me a nod as if to say “you’ve got good sense” before returning to the table where his companions were seated. Their noise naturally blended with the noise of the other customers.

I prepared the two ordered cocktails, a glass of Blue Absinthe that looked pale but seemed to glow blue-yellow when observed carefully, and a cup of black coffee, then approached their table.

They were in the midst of conversation like any other customers. The main topic was complaints about their boss, which was also quite ordinary. The hairy man who had placed the order shouted loudly like a train whistle.

“Why does he tell us to do the work one minute and then tell us not to the next? We put in so much effort during the war. And now suddenly he says to leave it alone. So we have nothing to do but drink.”

The Dragon Slayer would suit him well. I placed the drink, reddened with hot sauce that had spread sufficiently, in front of him. Then naturally, the Silver Bullet would be for the elf.

As I placed the silvery white drink in front of the elf, he clicked his tongue a couple of times at the barbarian-like man who still had a loud voice.

“You should have gone to get it, Warren. Gregory’s unusual order must have troubled the bartender, and now you’ve made the bartender carry a tray all the way here.”

I placed the black coffee in front of the ogre who was struggling to sit in Two Face’s chair despite its width, and finally the Blue Absinthe in front of the man whose species I couldn’t determine.

“From your comment about unusual orders, it seems this is your first time at Two Face. Our establishment operates as a cafe during the day. Oh, and I only listen to complaints from customers sitting at the bar.”

The ogre, dressed in an excessively bejeweled suit like a nouveau riche, picked up his coffee cup, and the man of indeterminate species spoke in a very comfortable voice. Though his voice seemed like a whisper, it was clearly audible.

“Then all four of us should move to the bar. The project we’ve been working on at the company has been scrapped, so we’re all quite irritated.”

Then it was time to escape boredom again. Curious about what kind of people these new customers might be, I pulled a chair from an empty adjacent table and sat down among them.

“For someone who says ‘we’re all,’ you seem quite calm! Speaking so gently even with a bartender ready to listen to your complaints right in front of you.”

The ogre who was taking a sip of coffee answered instead. This old man didn’t seem very talkative.

“Old man Desmond has been with the company longer than us, so he’s used to it. And he’s used to Warren causing trouble, so he’s not one to get angry over something like this…”

A loud rumbling sound came from the ogre’s stomach. Being that overweight seemed dangerous for his health, and it looked like he was deliberately starving himself, so I didn’t offer any food. I pretended not to notice.

The ogre briefly nodded his head as if thanking me for ignoring it, and I responded with a smile. Such a small kindness was easy enough to offer.

In response to what sounded like an introduction of himself as a troublemaker, Warren, who had put down his glass of Dragon Slayer, shouted.

“This time it was a job that really needed my skills, Gregory! I was excited because it was something I could be passionate about after so long…”

This man seemed like the type who causes accidents trying to prove his abilities. Somehow, he reminded me of Mickey. Though Mickey was much better looking, in my opinion.

The elf, who had only taken a small sip of his Silver Bullet as if to prevent a fight in front of me, intervened.

“If they only needed your skills, they would have called you first, Warren. Or they would have called only you. Since that’s not the case, they called all of us, and they called me first.”

Though I had confidently suggested they tell the bartender if they had concerns, this didn’t seem like a problem a bartender could resolve. It was on the verge of becoming an emotional fight.

The oldest man appeared to be merely observing, but this time the clumsy-looking ogre tried to stop the two. They were like boys—friends who bickered.

“The order doesn’t mean anything, you know… What matters is the job. And yes, I’m sorry for treating you like a troublemaker, Warren. You’re good at your job. Besides, we’ve got another job lined up, so we should be putting our heads together rather than fighting.”

Though he seemed weak, he appeared to be good at mediating situations. Warren, having gotten what he wanted, no longer rampaged or shouted.

The old man, who had been quietly observing until now, finally spoke. Only after everything was over.

“I walked all the way to this bar I’ve never been to before because you said let’s have one last drink, but it’s strange that only your voice will remain in my memory, Warren. I have to take the train to Pennsylvania all day tomorrow, so drink heavily so you can sleep like the dead on the train. Ah, thank you for listening, Miss Bartender. If you have the orcs’…”

He smiled briefly, lifting just the corner of his mouth as if finding his own words amusing, then continued.

“Life water, I’d like you to bring a few glasses. All four of us plan to drink until we’re drunk tonight. Gregory, why don’t you go pay? It’s been your job since you stopped starving.”

Hearing that, I stood up. If they weren’t going to talk to me but instead mediate among themselves and stop fights, there was no place for me to intervene.

The plump ogre greedily pulled out a fat wallet, clutched it in his hand, and approached the counter. He licked his lips once while looking at the alcohol placed behind the counter. Noticing his own behavior, he apologized.

“Ah, um. I’m sorry. These days I can’t touch oil or alcohol, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve had beer made from barley. The price…”

I brought out several bottles of vodka and received payment. Although I didn’t get to talk much with today’s customers, each one was distinctive enough that all four would likely remain in my memory. That was enough.