Chapter 12
Chapter 12. Ugly Flower (8)
In the middle of the Workshop that was nothing short of chaos.
The appearance of Cola contained in a transparent bottle was truly radiant.
At first glance it was a black and gloomy liquid, but when sunlight passed through it, it revealed a sensual brown color.
"......"
"......"
The two people who had been jumping around with joy just moments before now held their breath and examined it as if appreciating a work of art.
"Ah, we really completed it."
One month to completion.
It had been a much less smooth process than planned.
Subtle differences in materials due to different soil quality, differences in water taste, constraints from being unable to use advanced techniques, several materials that had no choice but to use substitutes.
Nevertheless, we did it.
Britannia's Cola, 99.9% similar to actual Cola, was right here now.
"It's thanks to you. Miss Penelope."
Penelope's contribution was great in shortening that process to one month.
Unexpectedly, she possessed innate taste and memory, and the imagination to mix tastes and aromas in her mind.
She had remarkably excellent qualities as both a chef and gourmet.
It was truly regrettable that the country she happened to be born in with such good talent was Britannia, but anyway.
"...We really made this...."
Penelope muttered blankly as if dreaming.
She had actually been half-swindled.
Jurgen had said it would be finished soon since all the materials were gathered, but hadn't they struggled for a whole month?
She had gone through all sorts of hardships for a month.
Drinking countless tasteless Cola samples daily.
Racking her brains among fragrances that produced completely different tastes even when ratios differed by just 0.01%.
There were times when she'd groan 'What's the problem?' even while sleeping, then suddenly get up and write down improved mixing methods.
No matter how much effort she put in, when it wasn't completed easily, there were times she almost gave up.
'It's just a beverage, right? Why am I working so hard on such a trivial thing?'
From anxiety that it might never be completed.
From doubt that all this might be futile effort.
It was a tantrum thrown with the desire to abandon everything.
'I want to change things.'
'You know too that Britannia's food culture is nothing but crude, don't you?'
'But I don't think cuisine is some unnecessary margin.'
'Someone might forget hardship through a cup of comfort, someone might find happiness in a piece of memory, and someone else might gain strength to live tomorrow from one bite of flavor.'
'Isn't it too regrettable that everyone lives without knowing that joy?'
Jurgen had answered with the most serious eyes in the world.
So did Penelope become moved by his eloquent speech and convert to being an apostle of cuisine?
Well, probably not.
His logic was flimsy and full of leaps, and it didn't even particularly resonate.
How grandiose over just a beverage.
The cynical Penelope inside Penelope said so.
However.
Jurgen's expression was more serious than ever.
His eyes were shining like a child's, as if even repeated failures were nothing but enjoyable.
Bright enough to melt Penelope's ice-cold cynicism.
'Someone who made it so well forgot the recipe?'
'Th-there were circumstances.'
'...I understand. I'll try a little more.'
Seeing such a person like Jurgen, Penelope gave up on giving up.
But even after that, everything didn't change overnight.
Research and development were still boring and full of uncertainty.
There were times she fell asleep sitting in her chair, or was caught by Jurgen habitually placing a pen between her nose and lips while pondering.
But little by little.
'Is it better than before?'
'It's definitely gotten better.'
Each time they moved toward the goal, an indescribable stirring arose in her chest.
It was like the tickle felt when spring wind brushed the hair by her ears, or like the twinkle of a small star flickering at dawn.
Ah, yes.
It was an emotion she knew.
At the same time, it was an emotion Penelope had forgotten for a very long time.
Reward and achievement.
The fruit of that was now before her eyes.
"Miss Penelope, do you know the most delicious way to drink Cola?"
"What is it?"
"Drinking ice-cold Cola in one gulp, gulp gulp gulp until your throat stings and tears well up in your eyes. Wasn't that how you wanted to drink it?"
"......"
"...Miss Penelope?"
It was strange.
Then what was this emotion?
The lonely emptiness left after fireworks end?
The bittersweet feeling when you finish reading a book and put it down?
Despite Cola, which she so wanted to drink, being right in front of her as he said, she wasn't particularly happy.
"What will you do now?"
"Didn't I say? I will bring a culinary revolution to Britannia."
"I see. Yes. You did...."
Hearing his answer, she understood.
He had a next step.
Selling Cola. Creating opportunities for those uninterested in cuisine to place value on cuisine. Growing the business. Developing and selling other products....
He had a next destination.
But not Penelope.
Even though they rode the same train and ran on the same tracks, Penelope's journey ended a little faster.
Right here.
Because her final destination had been Cola from the start.
"I never imagined you'd help so enthusiastically. From now on, I'll definitely provide Cola free of charge."
"If you have any conscience, you should naturally do so."
This past month was enjoyable.
It had been a long time since she'd been this absorbed in something after being expelled from university.
Being so engrossed that the nightmares that came to torment her every night had no gap to slip through.
The sensation of steadily moving toward a goal.
Exchanging trivial small talk with someone else and bickering.
All of it was after a long time.
But the fireworks had ended.
Now it was time to return to daily life as stifling as a cage.
Penelope's role was up to here.
She should probably sit by the window of Jurgen's general store, sip Cola, and bless his future path.
"...I'll be going now."
She no longer had confidence to hide her hardening expression.
Not wanting her paper-thin pretense to be discovered, she tried to escape as if fleeing, when.
"Miss Penelope."
"What?"
"This might be somewhat shameless to say, but... I intend to start a culinary revolution with this Cola."
"I know. You said it before and just said it again."
"I'm thinking that my strength alone might not be enough. So what I'm saying is...."
Jurgen, who had been hesitating unusually, awkwardly extended his hand.
Penelope's eyes widened round, blink blink, and the words that followed.
"Could you continue helping in the future?"
"...Help?"
"For the culinary revolution, I need Miss Penelope's help."
Penelope, who had learned noble etiquette in her body, knew.
Frivolous laughter diminished dignity.
It was for the same reason that she struggled desperately to hide her laughter.
"Hmm~"
But it still wouldn't work.
On a day like today, a little.
It would be okay to smile, wouldn't it.
Penelope smiled until her white teeth showed.
It was a mischievous smile.
"Then say 'Miss Penelope, please help me.'"
It seemed this journey's final destination wasn't here after all.
***
Porters described in genre novels are support classes who carry the party's loot instead and handle chores like camping preparation and cooking.
They're always ignored by party members, and either leave the party to make the party members enter regret-ruin-obsession mode or awaken cheat abilities.
But real-world porters weren't such a dramatic profession.
First, since the porter union 'Demon Realm Transporters Union' had quite strong influence, it was difficult to treat them like slaves.
Even if they didn't awaken cheat abilities, they received wages equivalent to 3-4 times that of simple laborers.
This meant it was quite a popular and profitable profession in Nortaris.
"Khehe, I really made a ton of money today."
Porter Thomas smiled ear to ear looking at the silver coins jingling in his pocket.
However, the thickness of his pocket and his stomach grumbling from hard labor were separate matters.
That was why he headed straight to the night market despite wearing salt-stained clothes.
The food night market 'End of the Galley' was crowded with porters, craftsmen, dock workers and sailors from early evening.
Boisterous noise came from taverns and pubs on both sides of the alley, and food to comfort the hard day of weary workers was being prepared over the fires of food stalls lined up in rows.
Among the crowded people, children with wooden boards hung around their necks went around selling cigarettes, matches, and cheap candy.
"Whew, smells good."
In the bustling atmosphere, Thomas flared his nostrils and pondered the menu.
Anything tastes good when you're starving.
But that's exactly why you need to be more careful in menu selection.
Chickpea soup, chicken giblet skewers, herring pickles, oysters.
At such good timing, would you make such ordinary street food your side dishes?
If such a bastard existed, they should immediately revoke his porter license and exterminate three generations.
"Khehe, shall I slice some thick meat?"
Since money came in for once.
Roast beef dripping with juices and blood would be good, and hen tenderloin chicken skewers seemed like not a bad choice either.
Among fish pies, salmon pie, considered the best, seemed like it would be fine too.
"No no, I ate salmon pie last week so that's a bit...."
Thomas, who had been seriously contemplating, unconsciously stopped at the Fish and Chips stall he frequented.
"Hmm...."
Everyone would have experienced it at least once.
When you're wondering whether to eat chicken or pizza, suddenly craving hot soup.
Soul food that, despite not seeming particularly outstanding in taste itself, draws you with an impulse as if your soul craves it, and gives above-average satisfaction whenever you eat it.
In Britannia, Fish and Chips held that soup position.
"Hey there, one plate of Fish and Chips."
"Yes!"
As soon as the order was taken, batter making patter sounds as it fried in thick brown oil.
Watching fluffy cod and crispy french fries being completed, his starving stomach churned painfully.
"My mouth feels bland too, so a cold ale... huh?"
Thomas, who had been smacking his lips, discovered a strange beverage in a bucket full of ice.
"Owner, what's this? This black beverage. The bottle looks quite odd."
"Ah, that's a beverage called Cola, but, well... it's a bit expensive."
"How much?"
"8 pence per bottle."
"Damn, even a cold ale is 3 pence, you should do business honestly!"
When he asked how expensive it was, the returned price was equivalent to one plate of Fish and Chips.
When Thomas was shocked, the owner added a word.
"Oh my, it's not a price I set. Some general store owner came and strong-armed me into it!"
"Strong-armed?"
"Saying it was a heavenly beverage without equal in the world and demanding an outrageous price... Whew, I lost my mind for a moment. If the young lady next to him had been just a little less pretty, I wouldn't have opened my wallet so readily...."
Then ultimately it wasn't strong-arming, Thomas thought, while looking at 'Cola' again.
"So what's this Cola or whatever, that damn expensive thing. How's the taste?"
"I wouldn't know. According to the red-haired young lady next to him, you can feel like you're drinking the night sky full of stars."
"Hmm...."
"If you try it, let me know your impression. It's too expensive for me to put in my mouth."
Thomas, after pondering, eventually bought the Cola.
Half was curiosity, and the other half was boldness from his generous pocket.
And so Thomas, who gulp gulp gulp downed the 'Cola'.
"Guh...!"
Suddenly grabbed his throat and thud fell to his knees.
His small eyes opened wide enough to show all the whites, and bloodshot veins appeared through his glistening tears.
He looked as agonized as if he'd swallowed poison.
"Customer?!"
"Guh... ugh... urgh...."
"Spit it out! Quickly, vomit!"
Ah! He must have received something poisonous from a fraudulent businessman calling it a beverage!
Business suspension notices flickered before the stall owner's eyes.
"Gulp, gulp, gulp."
But what was this?
The porter who had been suffering while grabbing his throat was draining all the remaining Cola, wasn't he?
"Ow, owner...."
"Are, are you okay... no, what in the world is happening?"
"The rest, buuurrrp! Give me everything. I'll buy it all!"
"No, is it that delicious?"
"This is the first time in my life I've had such a delicious beverage! No! I've been living my life wrong!"
The small wind created by Jurgen and Penelope.
That wind, which was still just a butterfly's wingbeat, was beginning to blow from a nameless Fish and Chips stall.