Ch.321The Water Fortress (3)

“How about this one? It looks similar to me.”

“……”

In response to my question, the Griffon Volf Sky Mother in her power suit narrowed her eyes. Her amber eyes stared at the screen of the terminal-type pad.

PS-111, who was beside me, also leaned over to look at the pad. The red camera lenses that replaced his eyes repeatedly contracted and expanded.

I’m not alone in this mansion.

After getting information about the Coldblood slave from Robetz, I called the kids.

“Comparing with the growth prediction simulation of our search target, it’s a 78% match with the characteristics described by the ‘middle child.'”

“…Wait. Saying it like that makes it more confusing.”

As you can see, Sky Mother and PS-111 are checking the slaves I’ve sorted out. No. 26 and Adhigh Orr went to explore the inside of the mansion.

“The appearance has changed slightly, but I think it’s right.”

“Really?”

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen them. I should say they’ve changed less than I expected.”

After silently staring at the screen for a moment, Sky Mother nodded slightly.

‘That’s a relief.’

The search for the 22nd ranker that began at the Street of Light is nearing its end.

About two months ago, Alqadi sold a Coldblood presumed to be the 22nd ranker to Robetz, a slave trader at the Fortress of Water.

And Robetz rented out the purchased slave to a luxury hotel.

The Cult doesn’t view Coldblood positively. They’re treated as cultists or criminals, making them unsuitable as employees in luxury hotels.

When I asked the insect-face, he said the hotel specifically requested them for entertaining other species. Apparently, they have a fairly good reputation for being decent-looking for a Coldblood and being obedient to guests.

‘But there’s something odd about this.’

The 22nd ranker is being hunted by the ruling faction rankers. Why would they go to a place frequented by the upper echelons of each faction when they should be hiding?

‘Or are they in league with another player?’

Even with that assumption, something still feels off.

If they were allied with a Cult ranker from Beryan02, they wouldn’t need to be a slave.

Just because the Cult is more humane than Megacorp or Star Union doesn’t mean they’re kind to slaves. If they were, they wouldn’t use the term “slave” in the first place.

Without promising a substantial reward, it wouldn’t be easy to use a player as a slave.

It’s also difficult to see them as a forced slave because Robetz said they’re evaluated as a useful slave. Methods like mind control or parasites can physically suppress someone, but they can’t make them work well.

‘I need to see their face in person.’

It’s not yet confirmed that they’re actually the 22nd ranker. There’s no point in overthinking this further.

“Still, I think we need to meet them in person to be sure.”

Sky Mother seemed to think similarly to me as she added those words. I nodded in agreement.

“Great One”

At that moment, Adhigh Orr called out to me.

Like an excited large dog in a new home, he had been wandering around everywhere before approaching me. His long, plump tail was wrapped around a wooden barrel.

“This” “Eat”

[Zzu(Huh?)]

He put down the wooden barrel next to me. A sweet aroma wafted from both the barrel and him.

‘Alcohol?’

While dealing with Robetz’s slaves, I had seen a place stacked with objects that looked like oak barrels. I thought it might be a liquor storage, and it seems I was right.

“Is that alcohol by any chance?”

“I think so.”

“Delicious” “Together” “Eat”

Alcohol, huh. I haven’t had any alcohol since coming to this world.

Actually, I didn’t enjoy alcohol in the real world either. To be precise, it wasn’t that I didn’t like it, but that I couldn’t like it.

Whenever I drank alcohol, the burn scars on my face and body would turn bright red. It made me look hideous, like a zombie with patches of skin sewn onto my body. Because of that, I couldn’t imagine drinking alcohol, either alone or with others.

“Since you say it’s delicious, I’m curious.”

Unlike me, Sky Mother seemed quite interested.

“Do you like alcohol?”

“I wouldn’t say I like it. I haven’t had many opportunities to drink, either here or there.”

“A beverage mixed with alcohol sounds intriguing.”

We’ve already confirmed where the presumed 22nd ranker slave is located.

All that’s left is to find the right opportunity to meet them. Since we’ve finished everything we needed to do today, it’s fine to take a break.

‘Should I try it?’

Since both Sky Mother and PS-111 want to taste it, I’m slightly tempted.

I grabbed the wooden barrel with the small arms on my chest. When I made a hole in the barrel with the fangs on both sides of my mouth, caramel-colored liquid gushed out with a sloshing sound.

The sweet-smelling alcohol flowed into my mouth. The tingling sensation was brief, and a matured flavor like caramelized sugar spread through my mouth and throat.

“This” “Delicious, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I” “Dwarf nest” “Search” “Found” “Success”

“Well done.”

Adhigh Orr raised his long neck high with his wings slightly spread, looking proud. The taste of the alcohol was as excellent as his cute demeanor.

This is the first drink this delicious I’ve tasted since the Helside Hornet’s cocoon.

‘Is it because they’re both aged drinks?’

In terms of depth of flavor, the cocoon is better, but this one feels more like a well-crafted masterpiece. It has various flavors based on sweetness, but they’re harmoniously balanced.

“I want to taste it too, but there are no cups. Where did you get this from?”

“Over there” “Another nest”

“Just drink it directly.”

“Come on, we should have cups.”

“Here are cups!”

“Thank y… Huh?”

Sky Mother paused as she received a glass cup handed to her by a pink tentacle.

“Big child and friend take too!”

No. 26, who had approached without notice, handed me a plate. He acted so naturally that I only realized it belatedly.

[Zzuzzu zzu zzuzzuzzu zzuzzuzzu(Did you bring these for us to drink from?)]

“Yes. Human food should be eaten from ‘cups’! Isn’t that interesting?”

He was holding various objects with his tentacles—wine bottles, jars, decorative vases, and more. Among them was the psychic education kit I had given him when he arrived at the mansion.

‘Did he learn that from looking at it already?’

While Adhigh Orr was tasting the alcohol, he must have checked the gift kit. True to his intelligence, he seems to have quickly absorbed the knowledge and put it into action.

‘Alcohol on a plate.’

“Like the fox and the crane.”

“Don’t say unnecessary things that might discourage him.”

“I’m just joking.”

I put down the wooden barrel and patted No. 26. He bounced happily after receiving my praise.

[Zzu zzu zzuzzuzzu(Shall we drink from cups together?)]

“Yes! That would be fun.”

I filled the vase he had brought with alcohol. He inserted his tentacle into the vase like a straw and sucked it up.

“Delicious!”

“I” “Want to eat” “Too”

While the two tentacled beings enjoyed the alcohol, Sky Mother also brought a full cup of alcohol to her beak.

“Not bad! It’s similar to whiskey but with stronger sweetness and aroma.”

“Right. The alcohol content seems lower too.”

“I think I prefer it this way.”

“Ugly friend” “Taste” “How is it?” “Good?”

“It would have been better without the ‘ugly friend’ part.”

“Delicious!”

While the three of us passed the alcohol back and forth, I also poured some for PS-111.

“PS-111, have some too.”

“Thank you.”

PS-111 held the bottle of alcohol with his hook-like claws and extended his tongue, a mix of biological tissue and machinery, to lick the liquid inside. The taste must have been quite impressive, as his eyes trembled slightly.

“How is it?”

“Analysis results: 75% Beryan02 cactus, 11% Gormos03 heaven fruits, 10% Amoria09 agave syrup, 4% others. An interesting taste.”

“Seems like you like it.”

He was about to nod at my words but suddenly tilted his head.

“I’m not sure if this expression is appropriate, but it feels somehow familiar.”

“Familiar?”

“The moment I ingested the liquid, data of a similar composition from my memory was output. I have never input such data.”

Although he had consumed various foods before, this was the first time he had shown such a reaction. He seemed quite unfamiliar with the situation of recalling a memory he didn’t know he had.

‘Data he didn’t input.’

PS-111 is a Mutant Screamer created by several ruling faction rankers working together. And one of the materials used was the head of a sentient being—in other words, a brain.

I once saw a video of PS-111 being created in the belly of Pyrrha Eleven, one of Star Union’s machine committees. It showed the process of transplanting a cloned Coldblood brain into a Screamer machine.

‘A memory from the past?’

The current PS-111 is a being newly created by No. 26’s power after his body was severely damaged. Since the damaged brain was restored in a form different from the original, most of the memories he had were lost.

‘But not all of them disappeared.’

His description of familiarity might be because he recalled memories from before he became a Screamer while drinking the alcohol.

“Maybe you drank this alcohol before becoming a Screamer?”

“Me?”

“Yes. If it’s a memory that ‘the current you’ doesn’t recognize, it must be from your past.”

He stared blankly at the bottle. His red lens was reflected in the caramel-colored liquid at the bottom of the bottle.

Eventually, he slowly nodded.

“A valid point. There’s a 47% probability that this alcohol is related to my past.”

“Let’s investigate this alcohol after we finish our current task.”

“Thank you.”

It’s hard to read his expression because of his metallic skin. His face is as expressionless as usual, but perhaps because I know his circumstances, he seemed very troubled.

“Want more? Drinking more might help you recall more memories.”

“Please.”

As I grabbed the wooden barrel to pour him more, he brought his face close to the barrel. Then, just like me, he extended his tongue to lick the flowing liquid from the barrel.

“It’s interesting how the taste is completely different from the main ingredients.”

He said that while licking the alcohol from his cold lips with his tongue.

At that moment, No. 26, who had been watching us, bounced over and squeezed between us.

“Friend, you shouldn’t eat like that. Human food should be eaten from containers.”

“I’m not human, so I can do it this way.”

“No. You shouldn’t eat human food like that.”

Because No. 26 intervened, my conversation with him ended there.

The impromptu drinking party only ended when the storage was completely empty.