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There’s a taboo for the information agency:

Alcohol,

Gambling,

Romantic relationships.

Despite walking the fine line between legality and illegality and performing a precarious balancing act daily, these three are generally avoided even by the agency staff.

To be honest, aside from gambling, they don’t really poke into one’s love life or drinking habits. However, morally questionable romantic relationships (like affairs) and excessive drinking are frowned upon, and one has to be careful during operations. Getting caught drinking openly overseas or having a romantic entanglement with a foreigner could lead to serious consequences.

So, I tried to keep my distance from gambling and romantic relationships.

As a side note, drinking and smoking are exceptions.

Especially cigarettes. Even having spent over ten years in the information agency, I’ve seen people quit gambling, but I’ve never seen anyone successfully quit smoking. I know this from personal experience. Of course, I’ve succeeded now.

Fortunately, in this area of the information agency, many are married, and the culture is more lenient regarding drinking and romantic involvement. In that sense, I could be considered an oddball.

I hardly drink, don’t smoke, and when it comes to marriage, I don’t even date. Even Colonel Clevenz, who generally steers clear of personal matters, sometimes asks, “Are you thinking of getting married?”

Anyway,

I tended to avoid alcohol, smoking, gambling, and romance. I completely quit smoking and now only drink occasionally.

The problem is,

“Saint! Why are you pouring me such a strong drink?”

“I don’t know! Just shut up and drink!”

“No, please, keep some dignity…”

People around me kept trying to get me to drink.

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Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

Following Veronica’s proposal, a small party was held to celebrate my discharge from the hospital.

Although it’s hardly a party with only five attendees, one glance at the people present made that notion disappear.

The Saint of the Cult, a high-ranking civil servant known as the real power behind the Magic Tower, a rare guest from Earth, and a spy.

It was quite the odd combination, but no one dared to comment on it.

“To Colonel’s health!”

Veronica exclaimed as she raised her Old Fashioned glass high. Its thick base and thin walls were quite impressive.

Downing the dark brown rum in one quick gulp like it was soju, Veronica let out a gasp.

“Drink up! Come on, drink up!”

“But I’m a patient…”

I looked down at the glass with a sour expression. The rum sloshed around with every tremor of my hand, leaving a trace of aroma as it swept past the glass’s walls.

I instinctively realized this rum was very strong. There was no need to smell it; just the color was enough to tell me.

In the old days, it might have been different, but now, with my abstinence, this rum felt a bit tough to handle. I never really liked rum much, anyway.

Still, for the sake of manners, I had to drink the first glass, so just as I was about to wet my lips and set it down—

< i>Crack!

Did I just hear the sound of wood splintering?

Veronica, who had been emitting a faint aroma of alcohol, approached and whispered in my ear.

“Stop messing around and drink quickly.”

“…….”

“I’m asking nicely, aren’t I?”

Veronica, coming close with a playful grin, jabbed me in the side and openly pressured me.

This was the first time I was being bullied by an information agent. I knew she was a bit crazy, but Veronica was a far crazier wild card than I had imagined.

Normally, I would have shouted at her for her ridiculous behavior, but there were too many eyes around. Those who had followed her cue drank up, staring at me as if awaiting the moment I would drink.

In the end, I had no choice but to tilt the glass begrudgingly.

“Gah….”

As expected, the rum was incredibly strong. The harsh alcoholic scent overwhelmed my nostrils. The moment the rum hit my tongue, every surface—from my palate to my cheeks—dried up instantly.

Just after the moisture evaporated, a sharp tingling arose, and before I could recognize the taste of the alcohol, I had to grimace at the woodsy scent and burnt aroma swirling around me.

“Ugh….”

“Puhah!”

Veronica, puffing out her cheeks, couldn’t help but laugh at my reaction. Her eyes, which had been gentle like a crescent moon, transformed into something entirely different. The desperation to hold back her laughter was etched all over her face.

Seeing that made me chuckle in disbelief. Yet, Veronica continued to laugh, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes as she grabbed another bottle.

“Ha… Sorry. Your reaction was just too funny.”

“C’mon, maintain some dignity…”

“I got it, I got it! Now, quickly fetch me another glass!”

Thus, the real party began.

As we filled each other’s glasses, we enjoyed the snacks ordered via room service and shared various stories. The atmosphere was more delightful than one could ask for.

With most attendees being sociable, the mood couldn’t help but be lively, but the person who contributed the most to lifting the spirit was none other than Veronica.

“When I woke up from the hospital all messy, barely able to open my eyes, and showed her my finger, her eyes got so wide—”

“Ah, come on!”

Veronica had a knack for making people laugh. Having navigated the political and social spheres of the cult for years, she drew everyone’s attention with her clear and concise manner of speaking.

Most of her anecdotes were at my expense, but her rhetorical skills, gestures, intonation, and demeanor were prime examples of effective communication.

It seemed that Veronica’s way of speaking stemmed from her upbringing or perhaps years of experience in the political arena. Quite fascinating, I wish Camila would learn from her.

Of course, it wasn’t just Veronica single-handedly putting in the effort to liven things up.

Camila, Lucia, and Francesca were also actively engaging in conversation. Francesca, in particular, crafted cocktails using the bottles rolling around on the floor and the glasses of alcohol and ice brought by the hotel staff.

Without a word, she filled up the glasses with ice and stirred to chill them down. After discarding the melted water, she poured soda and whiskey along the walls of the glass, careful to keep the carbonation intact, gently mixing it in with delicate and soft movements.

I knew what that was.

“It’s done, isn’t it?”

A highball.

“I couldn’t prepare anything extravagant, but… I hope it suits your taste!”

“Wow, isn’t this highball?”

“Exactly. Want to try?”

“Yes!”

In no time, Francesca made five highballs and distributed one to everyone. I took a sip and found it utterly delightful.

Do contemporary alchemists also learn to make drinks? What a fascinating skill!

I sipped the highball brewed by Francesca and couldn’t help but marvel at its deliciousness. It was so good I began to question if it was laced with anything. I even asked for another glass.

Replacing soda with a fizzy drink resulted in a unique flavor. While the highball made with soda allowed the whiskey’s original aroma to shine, the one made with the fizzy drink was refreshing without compromising the whiskey’s flavor.

As I sipped repeatedly, I suddenly found my glass empty.

Having been used to only the bitter drinks sold at the company, it was a treat to finally enjoy a delicious cocktail, and I wished I could savor more, but sadly, with only one bartender—Francesca—there were four of us.

Francesca was busy preparing highballs for others.

Finally, all I could do was look longingly at my empty glass, feeling a tinge of disappointment.

“…Tsk.”

I hadn’t planned on drinking today, and considering the need to recover from my injuries, it was best to avoid alcohol, so I decided it was time to get up.

Just as I began to feel a bit tipsy and was about to leave, Veronica quietly approached and spoke.

“Colonel.”

“Yes?”

“Do you feel good drinking the alcohol my sister makes?”

“It tastes great. But why…?”

Veronica gently grinned, taking the glass from my hand.

“You’re not thinking of calling it quits after drinking this, are you?”

“I’m asking for it.”

“Oh, damn…!”

Veronica, who was about to spit out some harsh words, bit her lip tightly and muttered briefly. Her hand shot up as if she wanted to slap me, but maybe it was unreasonable to hit a patient who’d just been in the ICU just hours ago, so she restrained herself and forcefully lowered her hand.

“Huff… No more fooling around. Anyway, remember what I said. Don’t forget to treat our little siblings well.”

“Lucia and Francesca seem to be getting along just fine. Besides, they’re doing well on their own. Do I really need to do anything more here?”

“I’m just asking you to be a bit more friendly. You know how tough it is for kids like them who have no proper backing from a cult or a magic tower?”

Kids with no proper backing.

At first, it sounded like she was referring to Lucia, who grew up in a convent and whose identity is questionable, or Francesca, who’s under surveillance from Patalia and the magic tower. But I quickly realized that this also included Veronica herself.

She too had lost her parents and ended up in an orphanage. While the royal family supported her before she became a saint, that wasn’t what she’d desired.

What young Veronica needed wasn’t backing, but family.

In that context, it made sense that Veronica felt a sense of kinship with Lucia and Francesca, who had similar backgrounds.

Even in a setting like this where she didn’t have to worry about others’ gazes, the fact that she insisted on calling the two non-relatives “sisters” was more than just a guess; it was close to certainty.

“……”

Regardless, these humans have such complicated lives. I couldn’t figure out how they ended up together, of all things, especially through an oracle.

Veronica and I stood on the terrace, overlooking a city tinged in gray. The wind blew, sending her hair fluttering again. It was an especially cold night.

At that moment, Veronica wrapped her arms around herself, having thrown off her coat earlier because she felt hot, leaving her outfit light and thin.

“You must be cold.”

I took off my suit jacket and draped it over Veronica.

As my touch brushed against her, she flinched and shivered. She pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders and spoke up.

“I-I’ll head in first.”

“Okay.”

Just as Veronica turned to go back inside—

“…Huh?”

Had she gotten tipsy? Veronica, who was trying to leave the terrace, stumbled. It was only natural, given how she had been pouring that strong rum down her throat without rest.

However, it seemed she was more drunk than I thought, as she wasn’t just stumbling; her feet were completely tangled. A drunken person couldn’t maintain their balance, and soon she started to fall towards the ground.

There was no time to think. I reached out and grabbed Veronica’s arm, pulling her in tightly to shield her from falling.

Fortunately, I caught her just in time, so she didn’t hit the ground, nor did she complain about any pain from being caught.

However, there was one problem.

“…….”

“…….”

We were too close together.

No matter how light women are compared to men, and even if Veronica was watching her weight, she was fundamentally human. And to stop an object falling with the same weight as a human, I had to exert some force to hold her.

That was the reason why Veronica and I ended up pressed together.

Our dark, startled eyes met.

I noticed the cold sweat that had dried around her neck where alcohol had trickled down, and Veronica’s lips, which seemed to want to say something, trembled.

With the wind racing by us, sometimes drowning out other sounds, right now, we could hear each other’s breaths clearly due to how close we were.

If someone were to see us, it would be quite a scene, but it was certainly unintentional. This was an accident.

“Um, Saint Veronica?”

“Y-Yes?”

“I think you need to get up….”

“…Ah.”

Veronica, who had been staring blankly at me, snapped back to reality. She managed to stand up, albeit slowly, still flustered, and her breath came out in a flutter.

I checked to see if she had any injuries. However, Veronica merely gazed at me with a hazy expression, still gripping my shoulder tightly. After sipping on all that alcohol, it seemed her brain was soaked in it.

Thanks to that, the distance between us showed no signs of increasing.

…Come to think of it, there’s been something touching me for a while now. Saying it directly felt like it would make things awkward between us.

As we stood there in an uncomfortable position, both exposed to the chilly wind for what felt like an eternity—

*Tap! Tap!*

The sound of someone knocking on the terrace door snapped Veronica out of her daze.

“Wh-What is it?!”

“…….”

Veronica jumped back in surprise like a cat dipped in water. A person who hadn’t moved a muscle when called suddenly snapped to attention at a knock.

What a surprise.

Seeing her stammer and tremble indicates she’s still not fully sober. So, I opened the door to let her back in.

Standing at the door, with wide-open blinking eyes, was Camila.

“Oh, Camila! What brings you here?”

“I got a call from the hotel. Apparently, the Ministry of Defense is trying to reach you?”

“The Ministry of Defense…?”

I leaned out to peek at the clock. The hour hand was now past 3 AM, creeping toward 4.

With a rough idea of what might be going on, I asked for my companions’ understanding and moved to another room before picking up the receiver.

“It’s Frederick.”

-‘Ah, you’ve been discharged, huh?’

It was Clevenz.

 

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