Out of the bath, in casual inner armor, I grab a wax-sealed glass bottle chilled in ice water for 100 col.
Inside is a viscous, orange-tinged milky liquid—a fruit milk mix of cow's milk and some mystery fruit. Popping the wax, I put a hand on my hip and chug half. Cold, sweet, with a citrusy tang. A smile creeps up.
"Hmph. Heretical kid. Post-bath means milk. Pure, untainted milk."
I glare at the voice behind me—a lanky guy, towel around his waist, striking a cooler hand-on-hip pose, having chugged his drink.
"No way!" I snap, tossing aside my social anxiety and pointing my bottle at him. "Fruit milk is the ultimate, unrivaled post-bath drink! Nothing else comes close!"
He's a long-haired, gaunt-faced guy who sneers like I'm filth. I didn't notice him in the bath, but that's irrelevant.
"That's why you're a kid," he scoffs. "Fruit milk ruins milk's smoothness and richness with pulpy fruit bits—a drink for kids who can't handle adult tastes. Proof? Bathhouses are phasing out fruit milk!"
"Guh!?"
He's right—my local bathhouse stopped selling fruit milk after installing vending machines! Why sell yogurt drinks instead? It's insane! Fruit milk would double sales!
Unable to counter, I seethe as he basks in superiority. I want to punch him, but that'd mean admitting fruit milk's defeat. Unacceptable.
"What's wrong, kid? Can't defend yourself? Gonna cry?"
"You two have awful taste. Don't you know the true friend and soulmate of the post-bath drink?"
We turn simultaneously. A woman, in inner armor like me, steps out of the women's bath. Early 20s, maybe older than me, with semi-long hair and a fierce gaze.
She holds a bottle of dark liquid. My virtual-world-sharpened nose catches its identity.
"No way… you're drinking that!?" I gasp.
The gaunt guy, shaken but defiant, reaches out. "Stop, woman! You'd use the ultimate weapon here!? Rethink this! Team up with me to crush this kid!"
"Hah! Pass up a chance to take you both down?" she retorts, shaking her bottle like it's treasure.
"Coffee milk! The supreme post-bath drink, proof of divine existence!"
"Stop!" we shout in unison.
She chugs the black liquid, striking a pose even cooler than ours.
Total defeat. We nearly collapse, out of options.
But then, she chokes, drops the bottle, and falls to her knees, spilling black liquid.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
"What's wrong!?" the gaunt guy asks, voice trembling with hope. I watch, tense.
Hand over her mouth, she stares at the spilled bottle in despair.
"It… wasn't coffee milk. Just iced coffee. How could this…!?"
A fatal mistake.
There were signs. Coffee milk isn't black—it's a gentle mix of brown and white. She was fooled by the coffee scent and the milk-drink lineup, jumping to conclusions.
Too pitiful. Too cruel a trap. Kayaba's successor, you'll pay dearly!
"No… why!? Why iced coffee!? This is wrong! It's wrong!"
As she sobs, we place hands on her shoulders—comforting a rival in the way of milk, offering camaraderie.
She looks up, incredulous, like seeing a spider's thread in hell. I take her hand.
"Let's get revenge on Kayaba's successor. Iced coffee in a bathhouse? Unforgivable."
"Milk begins and ends it. That's the bathhouse code, fruit milk or coffee milk," the guy adds.
"You're right!" she nods, standing with newfound strength, smiling softly like we're comrades. She keeps her bottle in hand, hip posed.
Naturally, we strike the same pose—the traditional stance of milk warriors, a sign of respect.
"I'm Catty. Solo player. You guys?"
I hesitate. My name, tied to the Wanderer's infamy, might be known.
But to a milk warrior and friend, lies are unnecessary. I laugh off my hesitation and introduce myself.
"I'm Kuuri. Solo too."
The gaunt guy, with a villainous smirk but the gaze of a comrade, speaks last.
"Kuradeel. You're both solo? Quite a coincidence. How about teaming up for a bit?"
Thus, my second party was formed.
They call me Wanderer—mocking my flitting from party to guild like a restless bird. So, three solos forming a makeshift party isn't new. I'm used to it.
With the snarky Kuradeel and the revitalized Catty, I swear to conquer this stage.