Chapter : 17
The Bachelor Noble Makes a Highball at Home
I canceled dinner with Tristan and went straight home.
The first thing I needed to do was…
“A viewing session for my Noble Phantasm.”
I opened the case I received from Gwan and took out the sparkling goblet.
The golden cup sat on the table. Its refined color and shine were so otherworldly—it truly felt like a Noble Phantasm.
Apparently, Noble Phantasms are generally obtained from treasure chests inside dungeons. Yet, despite that, this one had no scratches at all.
In dungeons, the deeper you go, the higher the chances of encountering rare materials and Noble Phantasms. But likewise, the traps and monsters become more dangerous.
The fact that someone returned with this goblet without a single scratch speaks volumes about the adventurer’s exceptional skill. And Gwan must have stored it carefully, too.
I examined the flawless cup from every angle, lifting it, inspecting it closely.
In hand, it felt slightly heavier than a normal cup. When I tapped it with my finger, it gave a clear, crisp, and cool sound.
“I wonder what material this is made of…”
Having lived as a magical tool craftsman, I know a lot about materials—but I had no clue what this one was made of.
“‘Spring forth.’”
I spoke the keyword required to activate the Noble Phantasm. From the bottom of the once-empty cup, sparkling water sprang forth.
What a mysterious Noble Phantasm. Even as a magical tool, trying to make something like this would be nearly impossible.
While thinking about that, I glanced over the notes included in the case.
They contained information Gwan had gathered using his appraisal skill, along with his conjectures based on experience. Most of the time, his predictions were accurate, making the notes extremely useful.
The notes included the estimated strength of the Noble Phantasm and instructions on how to clean and handle it.
According to Gwan, the goblet wasn’t extremely delicate; even if it were dropped slightly, it wouldn’t crack. It could be washed like an ordinary cup.
Regarding temperature and quantity, if I strongly imagined the temperature or amount I desired, it would manifest exactly as I pictured.
After carefully checking for any other cautions, I tilted the cup and drank.
The carbonation fizzed in my mouth, popping and flowing smoothly down my throat.
The refreshing sensation was irresistible.
Now I could drink carbonated beverages anytime I wanted. But such sparkling water deserved more than just drinking it on its own.
“…Let’s make a highball.”
Whiskey existed in this world, but without soda water, it had mostly been consumed on the rocks or diluted with water. But now, with carbonation available, I could make a proper highball.
With that in mind, I moved to the kitchen.
I retrieved a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the cupboard, and took ice from the freezer.
The ice block from the freezer was a bit large, so I decided to cut it myself.
I could have used ice magic to instantly produce perfectly sized cubes, but I wanted to enjoy the little effort involved.
Ideally, letting the ice thaw slightly before cutting would make for cleaner cuts, but I couldn’t wait, so I skipped that step.
After lightly rinsing the ice with water, I placed it on a cutting board.
I positioned the knife at the center of the block.
Using a small hammer to press the knife, I slid it to create a cut.
Once the initial groove was made, I carefully tapped the knife with the hammer.
A misstep here would ruin the ice’s cross-section. I had to be cautious.
Focusing on the hammer, I tapped the knife vertically.
The knife bit into the ice, and on the fourth strike, it split perfectly.
“A clean cut. Best one yet.”
The two halves were beautifully split—so perfect I couldn’t help but praise myself.
I sometimes made ice at home, but it had been a long time since I managed such a clean break.
I continued breaking the ice into quarters, then eighths, and finally into three sections horizontally.
Still a little big, I split them once more, rinsed the pieces lightly, and the ice for my highball was ready.
The translucent ice looked beautiful, and having polished it myself made it all the more satisfying.
I placed the ice in the glass without leaving too much empty space, then poured the whiskey.
I estimated the amount rather than using a measuring cup.
A rough guide for a man: about one and a half fingers’ worth of whiskey.
After pouring, I stirred the ice gently with a bar spoon to chill the glass.
If turned too slowly, the ice melts and the drink becomes watery, so I had to be careful.
Once the glass was cold enough to fog, I added more ice to fill the gaps.
Adding ice at this stage prevents it from floating excessively when soda is poured, and reduces extra water.
Making a highball seems simple, but if you cut corners, it becomes watery and unpleasant. Proper care is essential.
After adding ice, it was finally time for the sparkling water.
“‘Spring forth.’”
I visualized the cold carbonation carefully and poured it into the gaps between the ice.
The key was to avoid hitting the ice, which would release the gas.
Pouring slowly, I could hear the gentle fizz as the bubbles danced inside the glass.
I used a ratio of 1 part whiskey to 4 parts soda water.
The carbonation’s pressure caused the whiskey to rise slightly to the top.
With this, the drink was nearly mixed. A quick stir lifting the ice was all that remained…
“Highball complete.”
There was no point in admiring it for long—I had to drink it fresh, before the ice melted.
I picked up the chilled glass and took a sip.
“Ah… perfect.”
A sigh escaped me.
The whiskey’s bitterness spread through my mouth, with a subtle sweetness and umami behind it. Combined with the carbonation, it was refreshing.
Packed with ice, the drink blended perfectly. There was no watery taste or uneven flavor.
I was so impressed with the taste of a highball after such a long time that I finished the glass in no time.
As I prepared a second highball, I suddenly realized…
“Wait. It’s been a while since I had a highball. Might as well have dinner that matches it.”
I could handle my alcohol, but drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal.
And with such delicious drinks, it would be a waste not to pair it with a proper meal.
What goes with a highball…?
“Fried chicken, of course.”
A simple image, but it’s a classic pairing—delicious, correct, and satisfying.
Looking in the fridge, I found pre-seasoned chicken thighs.
Clearly, even the divine hand was telling me to make fried chicken.
We even had a magical stove that kept the temperature stable, perfect for frying.
Grinning, I set about making fried chicken immediately.
“Everything’s ready.”
A small magical stove sat on the table, the pot filled with hot oil.
Nothing ruins fried chicken more than it being cold. It loses flavor fast, so I opted for cooking it on the spot—a bold, indulgent style.
With the meat already prepped, all that remained was to fry it.
I added the breaded chicken to the oil, and a sizzling sound filled the living room.
Different from the fizz of soda, the crackling of oil was satisfying.
I sipped my highball lightly while waiting for the breading to turn golden brown.
After a second fry, I plated the chicken and was ready to eat.
Freshly fried chicken… undeniably hot.
I knew it wouldn’t cool easily with just a breath, yet the aroma was irresistible.
I grabbed a piece with chopsticks and brought it to my mouth.
The crisp breading and the juicy flavor from inside…
“Hot!”
Expected, but I endured it.
The firm, plump thigh meat bounced with each bite, soft and tender.
The seasoning of ginger and garlic blended perfectly, seeping into the meat.
“The meat’s so tender.”
After chewing a bit, I sipped the chilled highball.
The carbonation washed away the greasiness, and the umami of the meat matched beautifully with the whiskey.
“…Delicious.”
I gulped it down and placed the glass back on the table.
Hot fried chicken with ice-cold highball—nothing could be better.
As I fought the heat and ate, two pieces disappeared in an instant.
After enjoying the flavor fully, I decided to switch it up a bit.
I squeezed a lemon cut for the chicken, letting the juice drizzle over it.
Once evenly coated, I placed the lemon on the plate’s edge and took another bite.
“Lemon makes it even better.”
The acidity cut through the richness, making it easier to eat.
Fried chicken is already strong in flavor; eating many in a row can feel heavy. But with lemon, I could enjoy the taste variation and continue eating comfortably.
I ate the lemony chicken and drank the highball.
This luxury was made possible by a thirty-million Soro investment in a Noble Phantasm.
It was the result of striving for a bachelor lifestyle all along.
Thanks to that effort, I could enjoy my solo life to the fullest.
“I want to praise my past self for all the hard work.”
I muttered to myself, raising the sparkling goblet.
There’s nothing better than admiring your collection while enjoying delicious food and drink.
With this Noble Phantasm, I could have a highball anytime, or make soda-based cocktails. My home drinking life would only get better.
Next, I could try making a spritzer with the wine at home, mixing it with soda.
The thought of all the drinks I could make made my imagination run wild.
Thanks to visiting the opera today, I even got ideas for magical circuits. And I managed to buy such a valuable Noble Phantasm for just thirty million Soro.
Looking back, what a day this has been.
Realizing that, I became even more cheerful and sang one of my favorite songs from my previous life in the living room.
