Chapter 60: What Does Your Ideal Type Look Like? (3)

Chapter 60: What Does Your Ideal Type Look Like? (3)

Alcohol makes people drunk.

It coaxes out the words left unsaid due to past grievances, and sometimes, it lends one the liquid bravery to speak on otherwise difficult matters.

In my past life, I was no different.

When a friend, who never bothered to contact me otherwise, called me out for a drink. Under the influence, they'd ask for a loan, or to sign up for insurance.

I still remember. That damn Lee x-woo

Anyway. Alcohol has a way of making people honest.

Near the peak of the Hamel Mountains, where a warm campfire burned softly.

The young lady frowned into her glass, eyes questioning whether this was truly a beverage for humans to consume. She, lost in thought, looked at me strangely as I down-shotted my drink.

"Bitter."

"It's supposed to be."

"Incredibly bitter."

"As expected."

The young lady, having braved a half glass in one gulp, learned the harsh taste of the drink. She then glanced at her glass, her face suggesting she'd never touch alcohol again, but pulled by my mocking implying her youth, she pushed her glass towards me.

"Pour me more."

"Didn't you find it unpleasant?"

"No, it's good."

"That's a lie."

A faint blush began showing on the young lady's ears.

I hid the bottle behind my back, refusing, while she proudly argued her capability, boasting about her resilient liver.

The young lady, her eyes slightly unfocused, didn't inspire much confidence.

Normally, she would bicker and growl with Gomtang, and I worried that alcohol might actually turn her into a real dog.

"You'll become a dog if you drink more."

"I'm already a dog."

"You'll become a mad dog."

"Whyyy! It's too little for just one glass. Give me another."

"I can't."

"Give me! Or I won't go home tonight."Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)

With a huff, the young lady stubbornly persisted.

Knowing her as the lady who, as her dedicated butler for the past 13 years, always kept her word, I sighed long and hard to prevent her from sleeping outdoors.

"Alright Just one more glass."

"Hehe. Okay."

She shyly accepted the alcohol.

The buzz was kicking in.

Both for the young lady and myself.

Maybe it was because we hadn't drunk in a while, but the buzz of the alcohol was slowly dismantling the filters on our mouths.

-Michail, that jerk.

-Why are you cursing Michail!

-Aren't you annoyed? He looks like a leeching older brother.

-That's true. Then I also say, Ricardo, you jerk!

-Why are you cursing at me?

-You stole the chocolate.

-There will be no snacks for you tomorrow.

-Eek Ricardo, you're an angel!

-Too late.

Meaningless conversation flowed.

We blurted out whatever came to mind, laughed foolishly, debated whether orcs or bears were stronger such idle talk, taken seriously.

We engaged in mundane conversation. Not heavy talks of politics or academia, but light-hearted chat about trivial matters, emboldened by the effects of alcohol.

"I'm telling you! Back in the day, I was known as the social circle's belle!"

"Surely not the hell of flies kind of belle?"

"I was called a rose! A rose!"

"Quite a thorny one, weren't you?"

"Eek! Stop teasing me!"

"Puhahah!"

Back in my past life, I could handle three bottles of soju with ease

Maybe it was because the liquor was expensive, or maybe because I was drinking with such a pretty person but the alcohol tasted sweeter than usual.

Sip.

"Eh"

Sip.

"Oh?"

Sip.

"Uhihi!"

She was slowly getting to know the flavor of the liquor.

Crackle. By the dance of the hot campfire, the young lady held her glass and hesitated a moment.

Contemplating what to say, deep in thought, she tilted her glass. Just then, with a serious expression, the young lady cautiously began to speak.

"Ricardo."

"Yes?"

"You see"

Eyes filled with profound thought.

Her eyes, deepened by intoxication, felt oddly charged.

The young lady sighed heavily and threw a question at me.

"Are you going to get married?"

The question was so unexpected I let out a dry laugh. Marriage? I'd never even considered it.

I had always been too busy to think about it.

There were no women around.

The only women I had contact with were Hanna, Yuria, and the young lady none of whom would consider marrying me.

"With that money, we bought and ate skewers, did we not?"

"Oh then you're kind. You pass."

I had earned the young lady's stamp of approval.

When it came time to bend the third finger, she said firmly,

"This one might be something Ricardo can't do."

"I'm a man capable of doing anything."

"That's a lie."

She was unnecessarily quick-witted.

"The third thing is that the third leg has to be"

I quickly covered her mouth.

My face flushed with heat. I questioned whether I had really heard what I thought I just heard.

The young lady was looking at me with innocent eyes, wondering why I had reacted that way and what could be wrong with what she had said.

I asked her,

"Where did you learn that phrase!"

"In the philosophy book you gave me. Father, You Shouldn't Do This!' that's what it said."

"No well"

It was as if I had been suddenly jolted awake.

The drunken haze seemed to clear entirely. I was thankful because this realization likely saved me from a wheelbarrow DUI, but looking at the young lady's naive eyes, I knew I had to thoroughly scrutinize the books I had given her from now on.

The young lady asked with an innocent look,

"Why? The book says the bigger, the better. Is yours small, Ricardo?"

"What?"

She had touched upon a man's pride.

My face turned red, and I let out a deep sigh.

"No it's not that but."

The irony was in the fact that the person who asked the question was less embarrassed than the one responding, causing my face to burn fiercely.

The young lady nodded with a contented expression.

"The book said so. A man's third leg must be robust and colossal."

She was unintentionally making risque jokes.

Then, the young lady posed another question to me.

"So, what's your ideal type, Ricardo?"

"I like bbreasts"

Right at that moment.

"Ugh I'm getting drunk!"

The young lady fell over.

***

"Hehe! Heeheehee!"

The young lady was drunk.

Holding her glass of liquor, she spun around, like a pendulum swinging left, then right, over and over.

"Hihi? Ricardo, the world is spinning Im flying!"

It was as if she had gone mad.

"Ricardooo why aren't you eating? Drink more."

The young lady was in high spirits.

Mistaking Gomtang for me, she held on to the dog, sniffed it, and mumbled that it smelled tasty, pretending to eat the top of Gomtang's head.

She somehow managed to stand up and called attention to her empty glass.

"The glass is empty, Ricardo."

"I will stop drinking now."

"Hey!"

As she attempted to pour more alcohol into my glass, she bore a sloppy grin and scolded the empty glass like a boss would chastise an employee.

I cautiously reached for the bottle in the young lady's hands and said,

"You're quite drunk, young lady."

"Not Im perfectly fine!"

The denial of a drunk is never credible. As I watched her slightly cross-eyed face, I became more certain of it.

"Yikes, my hand slipped."

The nagging I had overheard at dinner parties. If the young lady ever entered the workforce, I thought to myself, shed likely become an unbearable elder.

Reluctantly, I accepted the drink she poured.

The alcohol filled the glass indiscriminately, spilling over its rim. The young lady seemed unaware of this, still cheerfully insisting, "Eat. Eat." and nodding along, but if I had any more to drink, I felt I might end up worse off than Gomtang lying beside me.

Carefully, I took away the glass of liquor from the young lady's hand, and she opened her eyes wide, looking at her now empty hand.

"Huh?"

The young lady was startled.

"Why do you do that?"

"Someone stole my glass."

Tears were welling up in her eyes.

"Haah"

I realized it wouldn't be good to let her drink too much.

*

On the way back to the mansion.

The young lady was lying in bed, sound asleep.

She was drooling on the pillow as she slept.

I stroked her hair and whispered softly,

"My ideal type is"

At that moment, a faint light shone from my hand.

A blurry blue window appeared.

[The Touch of Rehabilitation is activated.]

I coughed up blood, but a smile never left my lips.

"It's you, young lady."