The shot glass, on the surface, was just another ordinary piece of molded glass. Yet within this small thing, it blurred the line between honesty and delusion, between revelation and intoxication.
As the servant gazed at the seemingly harmless object, it stirred a memory, one so obscure she couldn't remember its details, though the emotion remained too vivid.
Her hands clenched, and her expression twisted in repulsion. The store owner noticed and was humored; it was the first time he had ever seen the servant assume such a demeanor.
"Oh? Not a fan of alcohol? Does it remind you of a bitter memory?" Daishi asked as he set the shot glass down on the table.
Silvie slowed her breathing to calm herself. A faint lightheadedness embraced her temples, and she wondered why she had such a reaction toward the shot glass.
There seemed to be certain things that, when she came into contact with them, stirred a hidden bitterness within her soul; it was an irritation she found deeply frustrating.
"What do you mean, Sir Daishi?" she asked, balancing herself against a nearby table for support.
The store owner faced her, his back resting casually against the table that held numerous apparatuses. "Don't take what I'm about to say the wrong way..."
"Most people who dislike anything related to alcohol often have some deeply negative experience tied to it in their past."
The servant pondered his words. Composing herself, she adjusted her lab coat and straightened her posture.
"Sir Daishi, whatever triggered that reaction in me, I hope it won't interfere between us. I apologize..." she offered a brief bow before raising her head once more.
"I was simply startled by the shot glass. And, Sir Daishi, I have never drunk alcohol before."
The store owner was deeply intrigued, sensing that this servant had no wish to dwell on her past, a sentiment he was willing to respect. However, he added casually, "Lady Evelyn, on the other hand, is quite the alcoholic," he said with a light chuckle.
"Now that you're with us, it'll be hard to avoid alcohol, especially if your mistress wishes to drink with you," he remarked.
Silvie let out a quiet sigh. "Then, Sir Daishi, I'll be prepared whenever that day comes."
"That's fair. Well then, let's continue," the store owner said as he moved away from the table's edge.
"But I can assure you, a shot glass is the perfect vessel for administering the diluted Black Sea Ink."
"One and a half ounces, it is the perfect measurement," he explained.
Silvie stepped closer, but something caught her eye.
Why were there multiple shot glasses in the cabinet?
Daishi then revealed, almost offhandedly, that the Malefactors did, in fact, party and celebrate from time to time.
The store owner then shared a bit of trivia: back in the day, when water was scarce and often contaminated with ink, most people resorted to alcohol since it was safer to drink.
Because of this, drinking culture became a significant part of life in Umbridge. Silvie tried to keep an open mind, but none of it felt important at the moment, as one thing was clear.
"Sir Daishi, is it time for me to drink it?" she asked.
The man looked her in the eyes. He confirmed it with an understanding nod; it was indeed time.
Sir Daishi mixed the diluted Ink and Silver Tears in equal parts within the shot glass, each no more than three-quarters of an ounce.
What emerged was a liquid of black and white, luminous and blasphemous, glowing as though it embodied both good and evil.
The tendrils were no longer visible, weakened by both the burner's heat combined with the silver tears.
Once the Black Sea Ink was combined with the diluting agent, Silver Tears, the mixture became what they called a diluted black sea ink, or, as Daishi quickly clarified, an 'Ink Potion.' which can served as the fuel that replenished the ink reserves of a scripter in a pinch.
Silvie prepared to take a gulp, but Daishi, in what he thought would be darkly humorous timing, decided to share a morbid fact before she consumed it.
He warned her that for anyone who was not a Scripter, even the slightest exposure to Black Sea Ink was perilous.
A single open wound would be enough for it to seep into the body and infect them.
Without proper treatment, namely, the use of Silver Tears, known for their healing effect against ink infection, the afflicted would eventually transform into an Inkling.
The warning left Silvie uneasy, heightening her caution around such substances.
But upon hearing that revelation, Silvie caught one crucial piece of information. If the Silver Tears were curing the Black Sea Ink, then even diluted, wouldn't it be the same substance that could purify infected water?
At this, Daishi paused. He clarified that they had indeed considered that, yet one question remained.
If the Silver Tears were capable of purifying the infected waters, then they must have been produced in enormous quantities to accomplish such a feat.
Yet a greater question remained: how were such vast amounts being created, and where were they being sourced?
The answer to that question unveiled one of the Malefactors' true objectives. However, they were unable to achieve it, for the noble who supplied them with the Silver Tears never disclosed the method of their production.
That noble was Harrison Vickyor, the head researcher of the Mireline District, a region under GPA jurisdiction, known for its legal elixirs and the regulated manufacture of diluted Black Sea Ink.
Silvie wasn't the slightest bit interested in the nobles; in fact, she deeply despised them. Still, she realized that Lady Evelyn's lack of noble status might actually be a good thing.
But that was a goal for another day. For now, Silvie would have to drink the shot glass filled with the mixture. Having seen its appearance, she asked, "What does it taste like, Sir Daishi?"
Without sugarcoating it, Sir Daishi replied in a deadpan tone, "Vomit and cat urine."
The servant visibly gasped. "Huh?!" She was more concerned that this gentleman actually knew what vomit and cat urine tasted like.
"That's how it tasted for me. But enough of that, Silvie, drink it. In one go," he commanded, his tone suddenly serious.
Silvie stepped closer to the desk and looked at the shot glass. Before Sir Daishi could offer her any comforting words, to his absolute surprise, Silvie downed the shot glass in one go, without warning and without a hint of hesitation.
"What the hell..." Daishi muttered...
The room grew silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Silvie's expression was taut, every line on her face seemingly sharper than usual.
And then, it struck her...
The moment the mixture slid down her throat, Silvie's body revolted.
A revolting bitterness coated her tongue, worse than bile, more intense than rotting meat, pulsing to every corner of her mouth; she was salivating in the process.
Her stomach twisted violently, as though a nest of rats had been unleashed inside her, writhing and tearing at her insides, trying to desperately escape.
She collapsed to the floor, whimpering and clenching her teeth, struggling to endure the agony. Breathing was nearly impossible; the pain was far worse than being shot in the abdomen or head. Her lab coat was soiled as it scraped against the dusty ground.
Her delicate chest tightened, every gasp was shallow. Silvie clutched at her ribs, trembling as sweat broke across her forehead. The servant's vision blurred, her throat burned, and the aftertaste, an acrid bitterness, made her gag, nearly sending the mixture back up, but she refused to vomit it out.
And yet, to Daishi, it was a familiar sight. He moved quickly, already expecting the reaction.
Without hesitation, he reached for another shot glass he had prepared in advance, this one filled only with Silver Tears, which glowed faintly white with its surface rippling.
"Drink this. Now." He held it out to her with urgency.
Yet Silvie was full of surprises. For such a delicate figure, she possessed a willpower that defied all expectations. Instead of drinking the Silver Tears, she pushed the shot glass away.
Daishi's eyes widened in disbelief as she slowly began to rise on her weakened legs. Her body was indeed trembling, but she pressed on until she stood tall.
With a faint motion, she wiped her pink lips with the back of her hand and took a deep breath.
"Sir Daishi, this is nothing..." she declared with confidence.
At that moment, Daishi found himself both amazed and confused. Her recovery was unnaturally fast, far beyond what he thought possible for a human.
He guided her to sit on a chair. Silvie's recovery was abnormal, and the store owner remained fascinated, thinking to himself, "This is the 'slave' Lady Evelyn brought with five thousand crowns."
They took a quick break, Daishi granting Silvie a moment of rest. He provided her with dessert (Esteemed Glazed Hurst Pancakes!) and coffee, which Silvie gladly indulged in down in the basement.
All the while, Daishi's thoughts kept circling around her absurdly resilient body.
Most people would collapse into unconsciousness, and even with Silver Tears to ease the pain and soften the aftermath, some would still end up bedridden with a fever if preparation weren't careful.
"This Servant... She outright refused the Silver Tears, and didn't need them." he thought...
"She's built differently, I suppose." Daishi would remember this. But for now, he simply made sure Silvie recovered well, offering her another serving of dessert. (Esteemed Glazed Hurst Pancakes!)
Though Silvie took a while before she could enjoy her food, the bitterness was still present, refusing to leave her tongue.
She washed it down with water, then with extra-bitter coffee in an attempt to overpower the bitterness with more bitterness!
"Bleh!" she exclaimed. The coffee was, in fact, comically bitter; it was Sir Daishi's special brew. He looked at her, reminding her that he had warned her about it.
The first task of the day was finally complete, but Silvie dreaded what was to come. Daishi reminded her that she would have to repeat the process next week, something she wasn't exactly thrilled about.
Still, he offered her the compliments she needed; she had done an excellent job. Silvie took the praise with utmost pride.
But the day wasn't over yet. There was still one more task to complete. Curiously, Sir Daishi was gathering some sort of grass on his desk.
"What is that, Sir Daishi?" Silvie asked from her seat at a separate desk, her dessert and empty plates in front of her.
"This?" Daishi said, placing a clump of grass on the table, a rather ordinary-looking plant.
"Have you ever wondered the pitiful reason that drives a person to be a disappointment and walk the path of self-destruction?" Upon his words, the servant shook her head.
"Uhm... No?" Silvie said, finding the store owner's words dramatic, and perhaps a little self-projection on his part.
But Daishi held up a clump of the same grass. "They are called Avelrowe Grass. To the naive mind, it's addictive."
"It's also the main ingredient in the Maryland drug... The very thing that makes people hallucinate..."
Silvie felt a sense of apprehension towards the next task...
Chapter End...