NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7
The next night, I rented out a small bar with the help of an acquaintance. Although I say “rented out,” it was only for a short time after the bar’s usual operating hours had ended.
This narrow, elongated bar, squeezed between two buildings, was lined with shelves of dazzling liquor bottles. A few counter seats were arranged along the aisle. This small bar counter, born from the hobby of a friend who was an ardent lover of alcohol, was a hidden gem known and cherished by the drink enthusiasts of Elacton.
“Hey Allen, who exactly is this person you’ve invited?”
“That’s for you to find out when they arrive… Though I’m not sure if they’ll actually show up.”
Despite the limited entertainment and underdeveloped culinary culture in the world of Asphial compared to Earth, the alcohol here was just as good—if not better. The drinks here were delicious, enhanced by the existence of many mysterious fantasy items, like ponds that constantly produced cheap liquor or honey so strong it could ignite.
The drink I was currently enjoying was called Fire Dragon Liquor. This vibrant red liquor, almost pink, was said to be so potent that even the mightiest dragons, the strongest species in this world, would get drunk off it. Though, whether dragons truly got drunk on it was still unknown.
Despite the sudden request, Zen, the bar owner and my acquaintance, cleaned up the place while inquiring about the guest who might be arriving. Polishing a glass meticulously and smoking a cigarette, Zen’s composed demeanor was something I slightly envied, even though I didn’t smoke myself.
The guest, a girl named Shizuku who had transferred to this world, also known as the Black Princess, was a highly renowned adventurer whose name echoed from the royal capital to various regions. Unlike me, who had merely drifted through life, she had carved out her own path and made a name for herself, despite having been thrust into this world without any prior connections.
**Ding-a-ling**
“Welcome—”
At the agreed time with Shizuku, the bell on Zen’s bar door rang during the quiet hours of midnight when Elacton was likely asleep. Zen, who had been idly smoking after finishing the cleanup, dropped his cigarette in shock upon seeing the guest I had invited.
“What the… How on earth did you get acquainted with her?”
“I’m not really acquainted.”
“Are you Allen?”
Ignoring the still-stunned Zen, the Black Princess—Shizuku—focused her gaze on me.
“Well, have a seat. Zen, get us something to drink.”
“…I can’t serve alcohol, you know?”
Shizuku sat on the seat next to mine, though it was a bit too high for her short stature, leaving her legs dangling. I asked Zen to bring her a drink before starting the conversation. Still in a bit of confusion, Zen served a glass of juice made from Poan, a fruit well-loved in Eracton.
“So, I’d like to hear your story.”
“Sorry, Zen, can you give us some privacy?”
“Sure, just make sure to lock up.”
I apologized for the interruption and asked Zen to step out since the conversation would involve topics about reincarnators and transplants, which I didn’t want an Asphial native like Zen to hear. He left without complaint, a testament to the trust we’d built over the years.
“I’m sorry about that. Since we’re both from Japan, I didn’t want the bar owner to overhear.”
“Despite your appearance, you’re Japanese?”
“Well, I’m a reincarnator, so I only have memories.”
Trying to calm the somewhat excited Shizuku, I answered her questions slowly and assuredly.
Who am I? Why did I reach out to her? I answered these initial questions, trying to ease the slightly awkward tension. Despite sharing the same fate, she seemed cautious even towards me. I found it surprising since this was my first encounter with another transplant or reincarnator like her.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Shizuku Saiouji, and I’m 18 this year.”
Eighteen, meaning she would be a high school senior now. Despite her youthful appearance suggesting she might still be in middle school…
“And you?”
“Me? I’m Allen. Here, I’m a 20-year-old unemployed man.”
“…No, I meant in our original world.”
“My Japanese name was Masato Shinjo. If my memory serves right, I was 25 when I died—a regular guy.”
I revealed my past honestly to Shizuku. Although I now had an appearance more typical of an Asphial native, I had once been Japanese.
“I see…”
Despite my honesty, her guard didn’t drop. From her manner of speaking, I guessed she had met other transplants before.
“Whenever I’ve met other transplants, they all seemed shocked when I said my name was Saiouji. If you’re not surprised, then you must be from an earlier time.”
“Were you famous? Like an idol or something?”
Her statement implied that anyone Japanese would recognize her surname.
“Well, sort of. Given my current age, you can probably guess, but around 20 years have passed since I lived in Japan. Though, the place I was based in was like something out of the Showa era.”
What she said was true. I’ve spent 20 years in this world, which means time on Earth had also moved forward by the same amount. The village of Akane, where I now reside, seems frozen in time, but the occasional trips to the convenience store revealed magazines and comics I didn’t recognize, and I often felt a generational gap when talking to the young part-timer, Kida-kun.
Kida-kun thinks I’m a foreigner, so our mismatched conversations don’t bother him.
“Base… So you can return to Japan?”
“Yes, the items I gave you were bought in Japan. They were quite difficult to obtain, you know?”
I pointed to the magazines and books on the counter, bought with sweat and hard-earned money under the scorching summer sun.
“Then…”
“But I can’t send you back to our world. It’s not because I don’t want to; it’s simply impossible. Only I can cross worlds; no other living being can.”
I decided to set her expectations straight from the beginning. It would be cruel to give her false hope.
“I see.”
“However, aside from that, I can do a lot. I can bring back things you want from Japan. Of course, for a fee.”
This was my main point. I intended to make Shizuku, with her power and influence, my patron. With her backing, I could run a business, and she could enjoy Japanese magazines and manga, a rare treat in this world.
“Alright, I’ll be your sponsor. But in return—”
“Yes, I’ll fetch the items you want from Japan. Just don’t ask for the impossible, alright? I don’t have a Japanese ID, so I can’t hold a proper job there.”
Buying magazines and manga was feasible while helping out in Akane village, but acquiring things like game consoles or computers would be difficult.
“No problem. I think a letter from me will solve that.”
“A letter? Well, that’s fine then.”
I told her to keep in mind my limitations in Japan, to which she seemed to have a plan already.