My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 30

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Not alcohol?”
“No. If it were alcohol, my hand tremor should stop, but it’s still shaking like this.”
Sure enough, Cesare’s hand trembled just as it always did. It definitely wasn’t alcohol.
“Coming from an alcoholic like yourself, that’s rather convincing.”
“Right?”
Cesare wore quite a satisfied expression. Still, doubt lingered in my mind.
When I drank it, the sensation felt similar to alcohol. Beside me, I heard Jenia gulping down her drink.
“My body temperature has risen. I feel good. There’s a sensation of dizziness too. It’s like being intoxicated, but it seems like a separate reaction altogether.”
Could the sensations that Jenia and I were experiencing be tricking us into thinking we were drunk?
I drank more of the Blue Moon myself. I definitely felt a surge of good spirits. This was strange. I had a strong tolerance for alcohol—there was no way this much could intoxicate me.
“Cesare, if it’s not alcohol, what do you think it is?”
“I don’t know what it is. But I’m certain it’s not alcohol. I stake my reputation on it.”
Cesare struck a proud pose, raising his thumb high. His massive fist trembled uncontrollably as he did.
If both Cesare and Jenia said so, it was definite that this wasn’t alcohol. Then what could it be?
“In that case, let’s seek out the brewery tomorrow. Then we might discover what this drink actually is.”
* * *
“The Blue Moon Brewery? I’ve no idea. We source our stock from a middleman distributor.”
When we visited the Liquor Shop from yesterday and asked, the owner knew nothing about the Blue Moon Brewery.
The moment we stepped outside, Cesare began to grumble.
“That guy—he’s not telling us because he doesn’t want to lose sales at his shop, is he?”
“That’s possible. Or it might be connected to the Cartel.”
This drink was tied to the underworld. Anyone involved would want to keep it hidden. But when we’d spoken with him earlier, he’d genuinely seemed not to know.
“Let’s try other shops. They might know something.”
This city had no shortage of taverns. We headed toward a larger establishment nearby to inquire.
“Where the Blue Moon Brewery is located, I couldn’t say… But say, friend, care for a drink? We’re sampling right now.”
Cesare refused the drink offered to him and bolted out. We moved on to the next tavern.
“A brewery? Haven’t got a clue where it is. By the way, you youngsters wandering around alone? There’ve been a lot of missing persons lately, so be careful.”
Another tavern. And yet another… By the time we’d visited five or six taverns, the sun was sinking low in the sky.
“How is it that not a single person knows where this brewery is?!”
Cesare seethed with frustration, his face looking almost bestial with irritation. Though the true reason for his irritation was something else entirely.
“Jenia… Why is everyone so blasted generous?! Why do they keep pressing drinks on me?!”
Their kindness was torture for Cesare. Jenia stood there muttering, her arms laden with snacks the shop owners had pressed upon us.
“Mmph, wha’ do we do now?”
I paused to think. The Blue Moon is sold only in this city. If that’s the case, the brewery can’t be located too far away.
Since I don’t know what this drink actually is, I can’t seek out anyone selling raw materials. But one thing became clear.
“Let’s visit someone who sells oak barrels.”
“Oak barrels? Why?”
“Because even counterfeit alcohol needs barrels to be stored in. They’re likely to do business with the Blue Moon operation.”
Through inquiry, we made our way to a cooperage in the City Outskirts as sunset painted the sky. A vast Oak Forest loomed nearby.
We ventured inside and found a young man locking the front entrance of the building. I approached and asked him.
“Pardon me, but have you closed for the day? I’ve come to purchase oak barrels.”
“Ah, your timing is unfortunate. The Shop Owner has already left for the day.”
The man, who appeared to be an employee, frowned apologetically.
“And since the Shop Owner is taking a two-week vacation… you may need to return after that.”
Two weeks’ vacation? In that instant, Cesare seized the man’s shoulders with both hands.
“Vacation? Two weeks I can’t wait! I can’t stay in this neighborhood another day! Where does the owner live? Tell me!”
“Eek…!”
The employee’s face went white. Small wonder—Cesare’s expression had twisted into something demonic.
Cesare refrained from cursing aloud, but his face spewed every obscenity imaginable. It seemed his patience had completely evaporated without alcohol to steady him.
“The, the Shop Owner went out drinking just now. He should be at a nearby tavern.”
“Which one? What does he look like? Tell me now!”
The terrified employee cried out the location. When we entered the tavern he’d described, cheerful violin music greeted us.
Despite the early hour, the place was packed. We sat at an empty table and ordered food and juice. Cesare looked somewhat tortured.
I surveyed my surroundings to search for the Shop Owner. From various tables, I heard people ordering the Blue Moon.
“Two more Blue Moons!”
“Three Blue Moons here, please.”
I observed the drinkers carefully. I considered whether the Blue Moon might be harmful to human health, but…
They all appeared ordinarily intoxicated. Nothing about them seemed different from typical drunken patrons. Then Jenia pointed behind me and spoke.
“Master, isn’t that man the Shop Owner?”
A man appeared among the crowd. Middle-aged, broad-shouldered, with a long scar cutting across his face. He matched the description the staff had given us.
Cesare stood and approached the Shop Owner. He planted himself askew and spoke.
“You’re the one who makes oak barrels, right?”
“That’s right. Who the hell are you?”
“A customer. I came to buy oak barrels, but since you’ve been closed for two weeks, I decided to seek you out in person.”
“You came all this way just to buy oak barrels? That’s rich.”
Fortunately, the Shop Owner didn’t seem offended. If anything, he looked amused.
Jenia and I approached as well. The Shop Owner glanced at us.
“Are you all together? What would you use oak barrels for?”
“To age spirits in, of course.”
At that, the Shop Owner let out a bitter laugh. His gaze was contemptuous.
“Children making spirits? Don’t make me laugh. I’ve got no barrels for people who don’t know their whiskey from their water. That red-haired one especially looks like a mewling brat. Go suck on milk instead.”
Veins rose in Cesare’s temples. His expression was twisted so severely he looked ready to throw a punch.
“A brat? You calling me a brat?”
“I saw you ordering juice earlier. Doesn’t that make you a pup who can’t hold his drink?”
“That’s just a matter of circumstances. There’s no drinker alive with a thirst like mine!”
His cry rang with sincerity. Yes, he was at the age where pride in one’s capacity meant something. The Shop Owner studied us and smirked.
“Then prove it.”
He drained a full glass in one pull, then slammed the empty cup onto the table with a sharp crack. Foam from the beer clung to the corner of his mouth.
“Bet you: drink an entire barrel of beer. If you win, I’ll sell you as many barrels as you want.”
Cesare’s eyes lit up. Like a dog spotting a treat, he spun toward me.
“I really don’t want to drink, but if it means getting the barrels… I suppose I have to. Right?”
“You’re observing Alcohol Abstinence. I’ll drink instead. Sit down.”
“But—”
I fixed him with a steady look, and Cesare shut his eyes tight. He retreated with the most sorrowful expression I’d ever seen on his face.
The Shop Owner studied me like I was a child. When I sat down across from him, his expression darkened.
“Are you even an adult? Don’t play tough. Sit that red-haired one down instead.”
“You seem worried you’ll lose to someone like me.”
“Betting with a brat like you would be humiliating. What about her? Let’s make it two against one.”
He gestured toward Jenia. Without hesitation, she pushed aside the person next to her and sat down.
I wasn’t sure what Jenia’s capacity was. But she looked like she was enjoying herself. I could always stop her if needed.
A large barrel arrived. The moment the lid came off, the smell of alcohol hit us in a wave. The Shop Owner grinned.
“Let’s start with one glass each.”
He filled a glass to the brim and drained it without pause. A chorus of amazement rose from the crowd.
“Wow, he finished it all at once.”
“What a Heavy Drinker, huh?”
Jenia drained her glass just as quickly, then poured herself another. She showed no sign of strain.
“This isn’t nearly as strong as what my brother drinks.”
“It isn’t, is it?”
I’d just emptied my own glass. The Shop Owner, refusing to be outdone, began drinking in earnest.
I ignored Cesare, who watched like a whimpering puppy—his face a portrait of envy and frustration.
As we drank without pause, the Shop Owner looked at Jenia and smirked.
“Not bad for a kid, huh? Your face hasn’t even flushed. You’ve got a whale swimming in that belly of yours or something?”
Jenia’s pale complexion hadn’t changed at all. She set down her glass—the one she’d been drinking from as casually as water.
“I don’t have a whale in my belly. Do you?”
“Sure do. A big one.”
Jenia’s eyes flashed. Two tentacles began to slip between the fabric of her clothes.
The light had vanished from her eyes. Her face remained colorless, but Jenia was in Complete Intoxication. She stared at the Shop Owner the way she gazed at a monster she was about to dissolve, and spoke.
“I’m curious. How does a whale fit inside a belly? How does it stay alive? I want to know. I want to open you up and see what’s really in there….”
Before something terrible could happen, I struck the base of her skull with all the speed I could muster. No one else caught the movement.
Jenia crumpled. Cesare rushed over and carried her away. The Shop Owner chuckled to himself, oblivious to how close he’d come to death.
“Going to be alright on your own?”
With Jenia gone, the burden had lifted. I was still in good condition. I moved toward the liquor display.
“I’m fine. Though at this rate, we’re not making progress. Let’s change the drink. To Whiskey or Blue Moon.”
“Whiskey then.”
A bottle of Whiskey was placed in front of us. As I uncorked it, a sharp, acrid scent rose sharply. I filled the empty glasses and drank first.
This was several times stronger than before. I could feel the liquid burning down my throat and into my stomach. The Shop Owner grinned.
“You can really drink. Alright then—whoever finishes their portion first wins!”
The Shop Owner raised his glass to drink. I observed him carefully. Something had been bothering me since earlier.
The Shop Owner had been drinking Beer from the start. When choosing a drink, he hadn’t picked Blue Moon. Yet everyone around us was drinking only Blue Moon.
Cesare doesn’t drink the Blue Moon. Doesn’t that suggest he knows something?
Meanwhile, voices erupted around us, urging and cheering wildly.
“Look at him putting it all away!”
“Just one glass left now!”
With each breath, the harsh smell of spirits rose up my throat. The Shop Owner’s eye seemed to twitch. He suddenly bellowed and raised his glass to his lips.
“Drink!”
I drained the potent liquor and set down my glass.
The Shop Owner hadn’t finished. He kept the glass pressed to his lips, unable to empty it completely, whiskey dribbling down past his chin.
His eyes had gone glassy. The glass in his trembling hands wavered dangerously when—
Crash!
He lurched sideways and toppled backward, chair and all. Clearly he’d been thoroughly drunk from the start. A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“He beat that? This kid’s no ordinary drinker, is he?”
“Look—he hasn’t even changed color!”
The Shop Owner had been formidable. I’m no lightweight myself, but the old me might have lost this match.
But I’m twenty now.
A fresh young liver against a middle-aged man’s? Impossible. I know this well—I’ve been forty before.
This game was mine from the beginning.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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