Ch.68Chapter 9. How to Bake an Apple Pie (3)

“You know this place is expensive, right?”

That was the first thing she said as soon as we sat down.

How would I know? I just stared at her silently, saying nothing. The woman was visibly flustered but tried hard to appear calm.

“I-I’m not saying we should split the bill, so don’t worry! I picked this place. Instead, I was thinking of covering the drinks with this…”

I didn’t answer this time either. I just kept staring at her blankly. Of course, in my mind, I was counting the seconds.

The seven-second rule.

It was something a journalist told us during a job seminar. If you just stay silent and watch for exactly seven seconds, you’ll see the other person crumble on their own. Sometimes, just looking without saying anything can be intimidating.

For this amateur villainess, rudeness is all I’ll return.

“S-stop staring at me like that!”

She couldn’t even last three seconds. Someone with a lot to hide?

“Let’s make a bet.”

I tapped the table with my fingers to get her attention.

“…A bet?”

“It’s simple. Let’s just look at each other. It’s not a staring contest, so you can blink and move your body. But whoever looks away first loses. If I win, I’ll have to charge more for the alcohol.”

After hearing my proposal, the woman rolled her eyes and asked in a shrinking voice.

“…And if I win?”

“I’ll leave the alcohol here and go. What do you think?”

“That doesn’t benefit me at all.”

The woman immediately flared up.

“Then I won’t sell the alcohol and just leave. You can enjoy your time here and leave. I had a little water, so I’ll pay for that much.”

Since you paid for it, not me. The woman thought for a moment, cleared her throat with a “Ahem,” and adjusted her posture.

“Fine. You’re making a mistake. If you knew who I really am, you’d regret this.”

“Great. I’m not confident. In losing, that is. Let’s begin.”

With one hand I tapped the table, and with the other, I pressed the call button for the waiter. When the ding-dong sound was heard, a waiter rushed over.

“Is there anything you need?”

I spoke to him without looking up.

“Ah, the lady in front of me said she finds you attractive and asked me to get your contact information.”

“Excuse me?!” “What did you say?!”

The waiter’s face immediately crumpled. The woman, who looked up at the waiter, turned bright red.

For a service worker to have such a poor poker face. I could tell the quality of Hampton’s workforce.

I suppose to an untrained eye, this woman would appear to have terrible fashion sense rather than being in disguise.

Unless you’ve had formal training in “reading others’ intentions” like I have.

“I’m sorry. We were in the middle of a penalty game. Since you’re here, let’s place an order. Two mimosas. This is your tip.”

The woman looked back and forth between me and the waiter with bewildered eyes. As the waiter left with a very relieved expression, she seemed quite angry.

“What was that?!”

“What? I just placed an order. Since I chose the drinks, I’ll buy them for you.”

“No, that’s not it! That was cheating!”

“We never set any rules, so it’s not cheating.”

Another quick-witted employee brought over two mimosa cocktails. Half a glass of champagne, half a glass of orange juice. But the glasses were unconscionably small. Or maybe prices here are just like that.

“In-invalid! That’s invalid!”

“Shall we try again? With a different challenge.”

The woman crossed her arms in displeasure. I fiddled with the mimosa glass. I pointed to the buffet-style shelves lined up. Colorful cakes and cookies were displayed. Since it was all-you-can-eat, we could take anything.

“…What now?”

“Let’s see who can bring back the snack that pairs best with this mimosa cocktail from the cakes and cookies on that table. What do you think?”

Again, the woman looked at me with bewildered eyes.

“This is a game that won’t end if one side keeps insisting, isn’t it?”

Got her.

Now it’s time to scratch at her pride.

“I guess you’re not confident? I thought since you like alcohol, you might have some expertise in this area too. Or are you the type who doesn’t care what goes with your drink, as long as there’s alcohol?”

“…Hey. You. You keep pushing my buttons… be careful.”

The woman was genuinely getting angry. I put on an understanding expression.

“Kill me then.”

“What?”

“I said, kill me then.”

“What kind of person…”

“So before I die.”

I interrupted her and gently pushed the cocktail glass.

“I should at least have a slice of cake that pairs well with this mimosa before I die. Shoot me if you want. Doesn’t everyone in the city carry a gun? But first, introduce me to a matching cake, then shoot. If I win this time too, though, I’ll charge more for the alcohol.”

“…Fine.”

The woman stood up first. I could see the gun handle at her waist. Of course, I’m not confident in losing this time either.

In the Erysichthon Protocol, food is an important resource. Depending on what ingredients are used and how they’re cooked, you get different buffs or debuffs. There are also additional bonus buffs when you pair drinks with food.

For a mimosa cocktail, it generally pairs well with most brunch items. With half orange juice and half champagne, it’s not that strong.

So, all I need to do is choose a food that matches from the list in my head.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later.

“…Looks like we tied again.”

Leti, or rather Leticia, finally acknowledged it. That her opponent was someone who loved alcohol as much as she did.

The two kept changing cocktails and continuing their competition. They gradually increased the alcohol content. The 5-degree mimosa changed to a 10-degree screwdriver, then to a 15-degree Long Island iced tea.

Yet they didn’t get very drunk, partly because they ate cake and snacks along with the drinks, but also because the glasses themselves were small. A way of reducing quantity while keeping “prices the same as before,” as the banner claimed.

Well, it wasn’t so bad in terms of tasting the pairings of various drinks and foods. Above all, this man had similar food preferences to Leticia.

“Plum tart?”

“Since this drink has a slightly bitter aftertaste, I thought something sweet and sour would go well with it. What about you?”

“…I chose the same thing.”

“We tied again.”

In fact, there was a flaw in the competition itself.

Due to the rolling blackouts, there were major problems with ingredient supply and maintenance. It’s difficult to maintain the quality of dairy products when refrigerators and freezers keep turning off.

Especially fruits, which need freshness, were inevitably replaced with Cybele Co. canned products, which is why everything tasted similar regardless of the fruit.

‘Even so, how can our tastes be so similar?’

At some point, Leticia fell into anticipation.

‘What will this man bring next? Will we match again?’

Their opinions were the same on items without room for doubt, but for divisive items, they each chose foods that matched their own tastes.

‘This is delicious. Not my preference, but still.’ That kind of choice came naturally. From Leticia’s perspective, the man seemed to prefer complex and rich flavors rather than just sweetness. Sweet and sour.

It was different from her direction, who wanted sour foods to be purely sour and sweet foods to be purely sweet. But his choices weren’t incomprehensible.

But all things must come to an end.

Her stomach was getting fuller, and she felt drowsy from eating so many sweets. Even though the glasses were small, they were savoring the drinks, so a pleasant buzz was building.

At some point, Leticia found herself smiling.

‘Huh?’

A side of herself she didn’t know. The man was certainly rude, but he was also fun, and he was sincere about alcohol and food.

At first, she thought he might be a scammer. This man’s account had no purchase history, no sales history—literally just created.

Yet the alcohol he possessed was from Minsk, difficult to obtain even for serious collectors. The man took photos from various angles at Leticia’s request.

It didn’t seem like he had switched bottles or was pulling a label scam. But there are certainly many clever ways to deceive people.

That’s why Leticia wanted to know if this person was trustworthy. That’s also why she decided to observe him for a long time at her favorite restaurant.

Perhaps her expectations had been so low.

Leticia was enjoying this moment.

‘I… can actually make small talk for over an hour, not just about work.’

She was surprised by her own change.

“…I don’t think that’s right. Even though it’s become famous to drink martinis stirred, not shaken, it’s actually better to mix them gently. Moreover…”

The man skillfully responded to Leticia’s somewhat excited words.

“…So you’re saying that’s especially true in places that sell vodka of such inconsistent quality?”

“It’s not the bartenders’ fault that the supply is uneven. Speaking of which, how about a martini, stirred not shaken?”

“Sounds good.”

Strangely, after drinking such a variety of alcohols and eating sweet, sour, salty, and bitter pies, a single well-baked biscuit was enough to cleanse her palate.

“Wow.”

For the first time today, Leticia’s eyes rolled slightly. She felt light-headed. Partly because she had worked overnight and slept little, but mostly because she was in a good mood today.

“Caesar, right?”

“Yes.”

“…Can I see the alcohol?”

The man took out the alcohol from his bag. It was a bit sad to see it wrapped in towels in a cheap backpack, but it was impressive that he had carried it this far in this world.

“…Wooow…”

It was definitely Minsk alcohol. The sealing at the bottle’s mouth was tight. Even in Roemer, such alcohol is hard to find. People there consider such careful bottle sealing a waste.

She held it up to the light. It was a wine with a transparent color. She carefully put it down and picked up the whiskey. A golden drink in a glass bottle with delicate cutting.

Gulp.

Her mouth was already full of saliva.

“It’s genuine.”

Like a child who had received a gift, Leticia kept touching the bottle.

Of course, she had met scammers before who treated her sincerely at first meetings, then tried to sell cheap alcohol. This person might be like that too.

That’s why Leticia was enjoying this moment. What if it turns out to be fake later? Right now, it’s real.

‘Why do I feel so comfortable? What’s the reason?’

Even while talking, Leticia kept thinking. Finally, like the elite she was, she found the reason.

Because she herself was comfortable.

That was a new experience.

In her childhood, she was teased for being a Roemer puppet, and after becoming a soldier, she always faced angry-faced soldiers or criminals.

Such people had sharp faces, were shabby, and had dark circles under their eyes. Above all, they smelled somehow dirty. All soldiers were like that, except for Commander Virginia.

Even on patrol, all she saw were eyes of contempt. But this person.

He doesn’t know she’s a soldier. Even though she didn’t go out as herself but disguised herself to look as ridiculous and fat as possible, he’s not disgusted.

This disguise was Leticia’s defense mechanism.

It was inevitable. In her childhood, she was an officer cadet, and afterward, she was just an officer. There was hardly a time when she wasn’t a soldier.

That’s why she was always cursed at, and eventually reached the point where she was afraid someone might curse at her just for going to the market.

When wearing a uniform, everything is fine. The problem is when wearing civilian clothes. Leticia became a timid person.

So now, she came out not as Officer Leticia but as just Leti, a civilian disguised to look ugly and fat.

And the person in front of her is seeing her as the persona of Leti.

‘It’s comfortable.’

That person doesn’t look at Leticia with contemptuous eyes. He doesn’t use any of the insults she’s heard.

“Is something wrong?”

Ah. But this is the downside of the other person being an ordinary civilian.

Not being able to observe silently.

During interrogations, you can stare and observe as much as you want. But among normal people, doing so would be considered rude.

‘I want to look more.’

Actually, that’s not an honest statement. Her true inner thought was, ‘I wish you would look at me like that.’ To see Leticia, just a human being without rank insignia or uniform, as she is.

So she made a bold proposal.

“…Caesar. Want to try that bet again?”

“Which bet do you mean?”

‘What are you doing, Leticia? Have you finally gone crazy?’ Somewhere, her reason was making a commotion, so Leticia locked it in a suitable solitary cell and closed the door.

“Not breaking eye contact. But just looking at each other. No tricks. Just watching each other while blinking. If you win, I’ll lower the price of these two bottles of alcohol a bit. What do you think?”

“I’m ready.”

“Begin.”

…Distinct features. A clean line from forehead to nose. A rather sharp nose bridge. His face is more oval than sharp, but he looks quite manly when he keeps his mouth shut.

But those eyes.

Comfortable yet somehow profound, and lonely-looking eyes.

That confidence, calmly looking at the person in front of him.

It stirred Leticia’s heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart stretched. Her mouth began to dry. The layered clothes she was wearing felt hot and cumbersome. She had even worn two layers of pants.

‘I want to take them off.’

Leticia’s body was itching.