60 – What does your ideal type look like? -3-
Alcohol intoxicates people.
It makes them share the stories they couldn’t express when sober, and sometimes enables them to speak the words that are difficult to say.
I was like that in my past life too.
When a friend I hadn’t heard from in a long time asked me to come out for drinks. Asking to borrow money, advising me to get insurance, they spoke to me under the influence.
I still remember. That bastard Ixu….
Anyway, alcohol makes people honest.
Near the summit of the Hamel Mountain Range, where a warm bonfire was gently burning.
The lady frowned as she looked at her cup. With a curious gaze that questioned if this was really the beverage people drink, she watched me take a shot and commented strangely.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“It’s really bitter.”
After taking a sip of the half-filled cup, the lady realized the bitterness of the alcohol. Although she looked at the cup again with an expression that said she would never drink alcohol again, she extended it towards me in a provocation filled with a disdainful remark, “Give me more.”
“You said it tastes bad, didn’t you?”
“No, it’s delicious.”
A faint blush began to show on the young lady’s cheeks.
I hid the bottle behind me and refused, while the young lady proudly boasted about her healthy liver, saying she could drink.
I couldn’t trust the young lady, who spoke with slightly loosened eyes.
She always fought with me over beef bone soup, so I refused, thinking that she might turn into a real dog when drunk.
“If you drink more, you’ll become a dog.”
“I’m already a dog.”
“You’ll become a crazy dog.”
“Why! It’s a shame to have just one glass. So, give me another one.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Please! If you don’t give me one, I won’t go home today.”
The young lady stubbornly persisted, pouting.
As someone who had served the young lady for 13 years and knew that she always kept her word, I sighed deeply and spoke to prevent her from sleeping on the streets.
“Ha… Just one more glass.”
The young lady shyly accepted the drink.
The feeling of intoxication rose.
Both the young lady and I.
Perhaps it was because we hadn’t drunk in a long time, but the pleasant buzz of alcohol slowly disrupted the filtering system in our mouths.
-Mikhail, you bastard.
-Why are you cursing at Mikhail!
-Isn’t he annoying? He looks like a parasite’s offspring.
-That’s true. Then I’ll call you Ricardo, you bastard!
-Why are you cursing at me?
-You stole my chocolate.
-There will be no snack tomorrow.
-Hiik… Ricardo, the angel!
-It’s too late.
Meaningless conversation went back and forth.
I just spat out whatever came to mind, laughed like a fool, and seriously discussed silly things like whether orcs are stronger than bears.
We had an ordinary conversation. Not the weighty topics of politics or academia, but we were borrowing the joy of finding amusement in trivial matters.
“I, you know! Back in the day, they used to call me the flower of society!”
“Was that flower, by any chance, a flower in the Parisian hell?”
“A rose! I was called a rose!”
“Thorns must have been fierce.”
“Don’t mock me!”
In my past life, I could handle three bottles of soju without a problem…
Maybe it’s the expensive liquor or perhaps it’s because I’m drinking with a beautiful person, but the taste of the alcohol felt sweeter than usual.
From Noble mtl dot com
The lady was slowly savoring the taste of the alcohol.
Thud. In the place where the warm bonfire danced, the lady hesitated with a glass in her hand.
What story to tell.
Lost in deep thought, she tilted the glass when, at that moment, the lady with a serious expression cautiously opened her mouth.
Eyes locked in deep contemplation.
Due to the rising intoxication, the lady’s eyes, deep in thought, felt strangely captivating.
The lady sighed deeply and threw a question at me.
“Ricardo, are you going to get married?”
I laughed nervously at the abrupt question. Marriage? I haven’t even considered it.
I’ve been too busy.
And there haven’t been any women around me.
No matter what kind of woman it is, whether it’s Hanna, Yuria, or Miss, none of these people would like me enough to marry me.
They are all successful people.
There were good people around me who would like me as a common person. I replied with a bitter smile.
“Why are you asking about marriage?”
“Just… Ricardo is at the age to get married now.”
“Hmm… I don’t know because I’ve never thought about it.”
“I don’t know…”
The lady fixed her gaze on the swaying glass and asked me. I couldn’t see her expression because she didn’t lift her head, but I could imagine why she asked such a question.
“I don’t want to break up.” Perhaps she said it with such a sentiment.
She might be worried that I can’t watch over her for the rest of her life. Although she is usually selfish and stubborn, she knows how to envision the future, and I could understand why she asked this question with a sigh.
Intoxication brings out hidden inner thoughts.
As I approached the end of my early twenties, not only did I not have a fiancée, but I didn’t even have a woman to contact. There was a part of me that was worried, but at the same time, I was afraid that someday I would leave, the person who had always been by her side. I wondered if she asked this question because she borrowed intoxication to bring out the stories inside.
I looked at the lady and replied firmly. I didn’t forget to mix in a small laugh, imbuing it with the meaning of erasing the worries within.
“Marriage… I guess I won’t be able to, right?”
The lady’s expression cooled at the words that I won’t be able to. I was relieved that she didn’t place any significance on it, looking at me with an expression that seemed to indicate she wasn’t tripping herself up.
Her expression was too obvious.
I jokingly said to the lady,
“Being a man like me not getting married may be a great sin in the world.”
“It may be a blessing.”
The lady was candid in an unnecessary situation. I continued speaking, hitting her forehead playfully.
“Perhaps because I see the most beautiful woman in the world every day, my standards have become too high.”
“The most beautiful woman?”
“Yes, someone with a blank sheet for a head and who loves chocolate. I don’t even notice women who are mediocre looking.”
The lady blushed and shyly chuckled, muttering, “That’s true…”
Looking at her, I jokingly said,
“I said that after looking in the mirror.”
“That’s not me, right?”
After seeing the cheerful smile of the lady who threw the fork for her own benefit, I was able to ease the worry that had been lingering.
In my mind, I spoke my inner thoughts.
‘Where are you going, leaving the lady behind?’
I can’t leave because I’m worried.
With a small smile, I asked the lady.
“So, are you not getting married?”
The lady’s expression turned gloomy.
Oops, I realized it too late, but since I had already brought up the topic, I forced a bright laugh and said to the lady.
“If you had a choice…”
The lady smiled slightly and looked at me.
“Just marry Ricardo, I guess.”
“Can you choose a husband so easily? You should consider my position too.”
The lady protruded her lips and glared at me.
“Don’t like it?”
What man in the world could refuse those words? I confidently answered, thinking about sons, daughters, and even step-grandchildren in my mind.
“How many children would you like?”
Once again, the difference with the lady was evident today.
The alcohol made it easy to pass serious stories with laughter. I made sure that even the stories that might become gloomy if spoken soberly could be easily passed with a light tone.
The lady and I laughed lightly and shared our worries with each other.
Fights, politics, friends, accidents—there are various appetizers for alcohol, but the best match for alcohol might be love.
When stories about the future turn into stories about love.
I cautiously asked the lady the question I had asked before.
“What is your ideal type?”
The young lady furrowed her brow, lost in deep thought. When it came to talking about love, she displayed great concentration.
She unfolded three fingers and began speaking, folding them one by one.
“First, he must be good-looking.”
“Well, just say it’s me.”
“Ricardo is not good-looking.”
“He’s more handsome than Ruin.”
“He’s not a human, he’s a lizard.”
Unintentionally, I had won a point against Ruin, causing me to clench my fist. I felt like I should at least thank the young lady for treating me like a person.
The young lady folded her finger for the second point.
“Second, he must be kind.”
“That’s me. Where can you find a person as kind as me?”
The young lady gave me a suspicious look.
“You stole from a beggar and ran away last time…”
“Did you see it?”
I chuckled and spoke to the young lady.
“Didn’t we eat chicken skewers with the money? Thanks to that.”
“Oh… then you’re kind. You pass.”
I received the approval stamp from the young lady.
As she folded her third finger, the young lady spoke firmly.
“This is something Ricardo can’t do.”
“I’m a man who can do anything.”
The young lady was unnecessarily quick-witted.
“The third thing is having a third leg…”
I quickly covered the young lady’s mouth.
My face flushed angrily. I was suspicious of what I heard just now and my ears were on alert.
The young lady looked at me with innocent eyes, unable to understand what was wrong with her words.
I asked the young lady.
“Wh-where did you learn that word?”
“In a philosophy book Ricardo gave me. It was in ‘Father, You Shouldn’t Say That!'”
It felt like a sudden awakening.
A refreshing feeling as the drunkenness cleared away. I was relieved that it might help me avoid a drunk driving incident with Rica. However, looking into the young lady’s intense eyes, I realized that I should have censored the book I gave her from the beginning.
The young lady asked with an innocent expression.
“Why? The book says the bigger, the better, but is Ricardo small?”
Her words challenged the man’s ego.
My face turned red and I let out a deep sigh.
“Well… that… it’s not that.”
In this ironic situation where the person answering is more embarrassed than the one asking, my face turned hot with anger.
The young lady nodded and seemed satisfied.
“That’s what the book said. It says a man should have a sturdy and gigantic third leg.”
She unintentionally made a sarcastic remark.
The young lady turned to me and asked another question.
“So, what’s Ricardo’s ideal type?”
“I… uh… boobs…”
As I was about to speak.
“Huh…?” She fainted.
The young lady was drunk.
Holding her glass, she spun around in circles. Like a pendulum, she swung from left to right and repeated.
“Uhuh? Ricardo, the world is spinning… I’m flying!”
She seemed like a madwoman.
“Oh Ricardo… why won’t you eat. Drink more.”
The young lady was in a good mood.
The girl, who was grabbing onto Gomtang and calling me, had a ravenous appetite for it, sniffing the aroma and declaring that it smelled delicious as she greedily devoured the head of Gomtang.
Struggling to prop herself up, the girl tapped her empty glass.
“My glass is empty, Riccardo.”
“I will only drink this much.”
The girl grabbed the bottle and raised it to my empty glass, grinning mischievously like a manager as she filled the empty glass.
I cautiously reached out my hand towards the bottle the girl was holding and spoke.
“You’ve had quite a lot to drink, miss.”
“No… I’m perfectly fine!”
The drunkard’s claim of not being drunk held no credibility. Looking at the girl who had slightly unfocused eyes, I became even more convinced of that thought.
“My hands are shaking…”
Snippets of conversations over drinks at company gatherings came to mind. If the girl were to enter the workforce, she seemed like she would become a stickler.
Reluctantly, I accepted the drink the girl offered.
The glass overflowed with alcohol without measure. It was a glass that couldn’t be filled completely and spilled over. The girl seemed unaware of this fact, stumbling and urging me to drink, as if saying, “Drink. Drink.” If I were to drink more, I would become a worse mess than Gomtang lying beside me.
Cautiously taking the glass from the girl’s hand, she widened her eyes and looked at her empty hand.
The girl was startled.
“Why did you take my glass?”
Tears welled up in her blurry eyes.
I thought that it wouldn’t be good to let her drink so much.
On the way back to the mansion.
The girl lay soundly asleep on the bed.
Lying on the pillow, drool dripped from the girl’s mouth as she slept.
I gently stroked the girl’s head and whispered softly.
“My ideal type is…”
In that moment, a faint light emanated from my hand.
A blurry blue window came into view.
[The touch of rehabilitation initiates.]
Blood trickled from the lips, yet the smile on the face remained unbroken.
“It’s the young lady.”