"Equipment upgrade?"
After picking up Morin, Bruce couldn't help asking in the car. "What are you planning to do? Also... didn't you go on a world tour? You're back pretty fast."
"I suddenly had some ideas," Morin said. "I'm also planning to open a tavern in a remote place, so I came back to get a few things done first."
"Do I need to prepare materials?" Bruce asked.
"Of course. I'll make a list later. You don't need to prepare too many, though. The equipment being upgraded won't break easily."
"But that'll make the materials easier to notice," Bruce frowned.
When he made the bat suit, he always ordered components in bulk to avoid suspicion. Ten thousand units minimum per part.
His explanation was simple-at least there would be spares.
Just the daily life of someone with money.
"If Fox hasn't fully helped you take control of Wayne Enterprises yet, you can consider firing him," Morin said with a smile. "Isn't it easy to make fake invoices?"
"Also," Morin added, "be careful of that Joker."
"Who?" Bruce immediately caught the seriousness in his tone.
Anyone Morin specifically warned him about was someone he couldn't easily handle.
"A lunatic," Morin said. "Not metaphorically. A real one. His thinking is completely illogical at times. You'll never guess what he'll do next. Don't try to reason with him."
"Do you know who he is?" Bruce asked.
"I've heard a little."
"If you get any information, contact me," Bruce said. "As a Gotham police officer, I'll act."
"I know."
"I've already found the architect you wanted," Bruce continued. "As for the wine... what kinds do you need?"
"Well..." Morin thought for a moment.
"Some of everything."
"All kinds?" Bruce repeated.
"I haven't decided yet," Morin frowned, realizing how troublesome that sounded.
"Then let's go to the Wayne Manor cellar first," Bruce said. "There's a lot stored there. You can drink and see what you like."
"That's a good idea." Morin agreed immediately.
Perfect timing.
He hadn't actually tested the tavern owner's [Beer-Man Constitution] yet.
Morin didn't care much about alcohol and didn't store any wine himself.
He did have alcohol, but whether that counted as hard liquor was questionable. Even if it didn't harm him, he wouldn't drink it deliberately.
Compared to wine, he preferred 1982 pure boiled water.
As for the wine in the Caribbean world's tavern, he'd given it all away for free. Drinking it himself was out of the question.
So this ability had never been tested.
They soon arrived at Wayne Manor.
"Master Wayne? You're back early," Alfred greeted them.
When he saw Morin, his expression softened.
"Mr. Morin. Long time no see."
"Long time no see," Morin replied.
"Morin's looking for an architect," Bruce said. "And he wants to visit the manor's wine cellar. Alfred, where is our wine cellar?"
"It's your wine cellar, Master Wayne," Alfred corrected calmly.
"Please follow me. Master Wayne isn't very familiar with the collection. I can introduce it to Mr. Morin. As for the architect, I'll arrange the best one immediately."
"Thank you," Morin said.
His plan was to open taverns around the world.
Naturally, he needed an architect capable of designing styles suited to different countries.
Alfred led them forward.
Calling it a wine cellar was generous.
It was more like a wine storage room.
Three to four hundred square meters.
Small, relative to Wayne Manor.
After all, only wines worthy of collection were kept here.
"Which would you like to start with, Mr. Morin?" Alfred asked.
"Hm..."
Morin thought of rum. The pirate's drink.
"Rum?"
"Gold rum, silver rum, dark rum, Bacardi, Kaya, Myers's, agricole, Lamb's, Kokusba, Matoc..." Alfred paused, frowning. "Which?"
"Any," Morin said weakly.
"That simplifies things," Alfred nodded. "We don't have many varieties. Two bottles of Legacy by Angostura, two of Angostura Legacy, and one of Wray & Nephew."
"One bottle of each," Bruce said.
"As you wish."
Alfred nodded without hesitation, completely unaware that every bottle opened was a globally limited wine-less than twenty bottles in existence.
Morin: "..."
Even as someone with wealth and power, he was still constantly stunned by money itself.
Soon, three kinds of rum were opened and poured.
A faint aroma filled the room.
The scent of money.
Morin could have evaluated the aroma and color using [Beginner's Brewing Knowledge].
He didn't bother.
A brewer knew good wine. That was enough.
"Hm."
He picked up a glass and drank it in one gulp.
Only then did Morin understand what [Beer-Man Constitution] actually did.
The alcohol was digested instantly.
Absorbed.
At the same time, ambient mana surged into his body, automatically forming a spell he had never seen before.
Morin didn't stop it.
He knew this was the constitution activating.
First came an illusion.
He saw the master brewer.
Every step.
Every ingredient.
The entire process flashed past in an instant.
Then the effect hit.
Morin opened his career panel.
Two new temporary bonuses appeared under [Beginner Beer-Man]:
[Beginner's Sailing Skills (Temporary)]
[Beginner's Fencing Skills (Temporary)]
"Rum is called pirate wine," Morin thought. "So that's why."
It was speculation.
But he already knew the answer.
Drinking wine granted corresponding temporary skills.
What about other wines?
What kind of bonuses would they give?
Even Morin was surprised.
If he carried wine in his space, wouldn't that mean flexible skill access?
Near-infinite expansion?
And no drunkenness.
The biggest drawback didn't exist.
That was absurdly strong.
Five minutes later, the bonuses faded.
This was only beginner level.
According to system logic, duration and strength would only increase.
Rarity truly meant value.
The ancients hadn't lied.
Morin's thoughts drifted.
Vodka? A fighting-nation physique? Bonus damage to bear-type creatures?
Wine?
Baijiu?
His curiosity burned.
Still, he didn't suggest opening more bottles here.
Even if Bruce and Alfred didn't care, he had other experiments to run.
"I need ordinary wine," Morin said. "Not this good. It's a waste. I'll brew my own later."
"I'll make a list. Please help purchase them."
"How much is 'some'?" Alfred asked seriously. "Is ten thousand bottles per type enough?"
Morin: "..."
Is your unit always ten thousand?
"That's too much," Morin said. "I'll mark the quantities."
"There are also brewing machines and materials for upgrading Bruce's equipment. I'll list those too."
"I understand," Alfred said, bowing with a sincere smile.
Anything that improved Master Wayne's safety was worth any price.
This had to be done perfectly.
"If anything happens, call me," Morin said. "My phone will be on."
"...Was it off before?" Bruce asked.
"Ah. Haha." Morin changed the subject.
"I'm going to find someone else. Be careful. Don't try to handle everything alone."
"That Joker... is he really that dangerous?"
"Compared to me? No," Morin said. "Compared to you? If you get dragged into his rhythm, it'll be very troublesome."
"You need to break rules to deal with someone like that," he added. "And that's hard for you."
"I know," Bruce said quietly.
"By the way," Morin asked, "when are you and Rachel getting married?"
"Don't forget to tell me."
"It's still early," Bruce smiled wryly. "Rachel's a judge now. Gotham's improving, but that also means old sins are being judged."
"Since she became a judge, Harvey Dent replaced her as district attorney," Bruce added. "She says he's very capable."
Morin stared at Bruce.
Specifically, his head.
"What?" Bruce asked.
"Harvey Dent sounds like a man," Morin said calmly.
"Be careful."
"Huh? No way," Bruce laughed. "I wouldn't-"
His laughter stiffened under Morin's gaze.
"You're hopeless," Morin sighed, slinging an arm around his shoulder.
"I've seen plenty of cases like this. Really. Slip of the tongue. Anyway, be careful."
"I see..." Bruce grew thoughtful.
"But don't act rashly," Morin added. "Maybe he doesn't have any ideas. You provoke him, and suddenly he does. But you're probably not that kind of person..."
The more he spoke, the more it sounded like an eight-thirty soap opera.
Morin stopped.
"I'm leaving for a while," he said. "Call me when the materials arrive."
"Okay," Bruce nodded.
"Oh no," Morin thought.
In the original timeline, Harvey Dent and Rachel ended up together-but this wasn't the same situation.
What if Harvey never had that idea?
What if his warning backfired?
Morin stopped thinking about it.
He'd warned him.
That was enough.
Bruce shouldn't be that dumb.
Time to find his troublesome little cat.
Morin opened his computer and began hacking into official databases, searching for jewelry thefts and similar cases.
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