Happy Life
Auto-translated
- He's the one. This... what was his name... - he recalls the map of the region he was looking at just recently. - Serri? He's got a cool place, and it's not that far.
He takes the glass in his hand, makes a light rotation to look at the play of light, but the whiskey turns out to be a little more watery than it seemed, and the liquid doesn't hold its shape at all, so he has to spend a few seconds to achieve the desired effect.
- Our life is strange, as the Minjing people say. Yesterday you're a king and a captain, today you're a client and a cook. Tomorrow... a priest and a merchant, for example. I met a real pirate the other day, can you imagine. But he caught something, and now he's sick of the sea - that's life turning upside down. You should see his face - half-dead, as if the undead have already summoned him into their ranks. I imagine him now, by some fantastic coincidence, walking into your door, and I wonder if he would like this drink?
Having finally eaten, Genza closes his eyes for a few moments, his hand tightening slightly around the glass.
- To those who are no longer with us, - a brownish, but with light golden hues, whiskey flows down his throat. It hits the taste buds and the nose with sharpness, but not too strongly. He would like to fully appreciate the bouquet, but he's not a sommelier, and he could only say that he feels some kind of subtle hint of sweetness and, perhaps, freshness in this alcoholic water.
He starts eating the ramen.
He takes the glass in his hand, makes a light rotation to look at the play of light, but the whiskey turns out to be a little more watery than it seemed, and the liquid doesn't hold its shape at all, so he has to spend a few seconds to achieve the desired effect.
- Our life is strange, as the Minjing people say. Yesterday you're a king and a captain, today you're a client and a cook. Tomorrow... a priest and a merchant, for example. I met a real pirate the other day, can you imagine. But he caught something, and now he's sick of the sea - that's life turning upside down. You should see his face - half-dead, as if the undead have already summoned him into their ranks. I imagine him now, by some fantastic coincidence, walking into your door, and I wonder if he would like this drink?
Having finally eaten, Genza closes his eyes for a few moments, his hand tightening slightly around the glass.
- To those who are no longer with us, - a brownish, but with light golden hues, whiskey flows down his throat. It hits the taste buds and the nose with sharpness, but not too strongly. He would like to fully appreciate the bouquet, but he's not a sommelier, and he could only say that he feels some kind of subtle hint of sweetness and, perhaps, freshness in this alcoholic water.
He starts eating the ramen.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
