"Hmm…?"
"I asked whether Lord Dantalion truly thinks so."
I raised my head and looked at the other person.
An ornate but dim room. A space where only a few candles flickered mournfully, and within it, the purple eyes of a vampire gleamed like jewels. The jewels held no emotion whatsoever. Simply beautiful to look at—nothing more.
"…No. That can't be it."
I'd withdraw here.
As though I'd sobered up. As though I wanted to hurriedly take back what the alcohol had loosened my tongue into saying. I grabbed a water cup that hadn't touched my lips once since the drinking began, and gulped it down.
Drinking water to sober up. That's what I wanted the other person to see.
"You know how I tend to exaggerate just about anything I say, don't you? Haha. Just words spoken at a drinking party—don't take them too seriously."
"Everything you said is true, my lord. This is a drinking party, after all. So—"
Ivar Lodbrok refilled my cup.
"—anything said here evaporates easily. If you have something weighing on your mind, then even someone as foolish as myself would be happy to listen."
"Ho ho. The head of the Kunkuska Trading Company is my drinking companion. I've really come up in the world."
Once again, I deflected.
"So then, let's get around to discussing opening a retail branch in your Demon Lord's Castle. I have no great interest in haggling with you. I've already shown my true face, so I ought to show some good faith on my end too, don't you think?"
"…Of course. If you would be so generous, I would be most honored."
Ivar Lodbrok replied evenly. The girl took a small sip of wine.
We had just moved to a new topic. And the other person drank. What did that mean? When you drink, your mouth is occupied, so naturally you take a step back from the conversation.
*Now then. What is Ivar Lodbrok feeling right now?*
There were roughly two possibilities.
First: the other person had yielded the floor to me. In other words, an attitude of "Fine, let's hear what you have to say about this new topic."
This was almost an instinctive gesture.
It's a rather interesting thing—when people want to show agreement with someone, they actually tend to engage in a bit of idle distraction. Taking a long drink of wine like Ivar, or tilting their gaze about thirty degrees away from the other person… If you translate such gestures into words, it amounts to this:
"Even though I'm doing this little bit of fidgeting, your words are so profoundly correct that I'm compelled to nod my head against my will."
You deliberately show the other person your distraction. You want to give your attention to that distraction, but their words are too interesting—you fail. That's how genuinely focused I am on what you're saying… Roughly that meaning.
When you think about it, it's quite the tactical gesture.
Sincerity in a person is practically nonexistent, and if you want to feign sincerity you don't possess, you have no choice but to bring along your own little "acting tools," so to speak.
However, the gesture Ivar Lodbrok had just made did not fall under the first case.
A moment ago, the timing of the conversation hadn't been right for me to start talking. I'd broached a subject, so it was the other person's turn to respond. Yet she ignored the timing and took a drink…
Which meant the second case…She was intentionally rejecting me.
"I am not particularly interested in the topic you have just raised, my lord. Furthermore, I find it difficult to agree with redirecting the conversation altogether."
A highly aggressive expression of opinion.
In everyday conversation, one might brush it off casually, but in a setting like this—where one politician faces off against another—it was a different story altogether. In boxing terms, it was nearly a light hook. She probably wanted to see how I would react to this attack.
*Fine.*
That judgment took one second.
I set the water cup back on the table and posed a question to myself.
*Should I pretend not to notice one more time and let it slide? Would that be a good response?*
Immediately, a veto fired from a corner of my brain.
*No. Right now I'm acting as though I've urgently sobered up. I'm on high alert. It would be virtually impossible not to notice the other person's gestures. No matter how well I manage my expression, something stiff and contrived would slip through.*
Fine. I'd accept the challenge.
Then what was the best response?
Three seconds had nearly passed. I'd almost finished setting down the cup. Time was running out. The only angle you can work with is this, you fool. Come on—spit out the answer. Reading the other person's face and flattering them accordingly is your specialty, isn't it!
*Silence?*
The worst option.
Nothing is more artificial than silence. Only a low-quality actor would consider silence a natural state.
*Go on the offensive instead.*
That's it. Now we're getting a usable option.
I placed a gentle smile on my lips and thought. Yes. Right now I was supposedly the one who had just come to my senses after the alcohol hit. I'd realized I'd shown far too much of my true feelings and was currently deep in regret. I was extremely on edge.
"…Ivar Lodbrok."
"Yes, my lord."
"First, let me apologize for trying to deflect the conversation just now. Yes—I did indeed argue that the two of us need trust between us."
In that situation, the other person had attacked me. What was there to do? I could only growl like a hound with its hackles raised.
I spoke with absolute conviction that this was the correct answer:
"But I still hesitate. You refused to show me your true self until the very end. You obtained a body nearly identical to yours—a fake—and presented that in your place."
"My lord, that is—"
"I'm not trying to reproach you."
I laughed lightly. As if to reassure the other person.
"What of it? It's been years since we began our association. I've grown accustomed to your methods. You're the type who can't endure anything unless you set up trial after trial, barrier after barrier. Yes."
"…."
"But I hope you'll understand something as well. Because you tested me right up until the very end, I too found it impossible to fully let my guard down until the very end. The best I could do was use the power of alcohol to push forward. Yes—that's all it was."
From now on, the one who needed to grow anxious was not me, but the other party.
People are cunning—they only consider their own conclusions to be the right answer. No matter how plausible the story, if it comes from someone else's mouth, they doubt it first. The smarter the person, the stronger this tendency.
Conversely, when someone carefully thinks through a matter and arrives at a conclusion, they immediately judge it to be close to the truth.
The only problem hanging over Ivar Lodbrok right now was this—whether I was sincere or not.
The material the girl had to make that judgment consisted of the gestures I had subtly shown her up to this point. And the fact that I'd deflected at first, but then reacted sharply the second time…
"I understand."
The blonde girl flipped her short twin-tails back and spoke.
"You said you were borrowing the courage of drink, my lord. Then why not simply invoke the blessing of Dionysus for the evening?"
"Oh?"
I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"You mean—you're graciously proposing that I drink until my nose turns crooked? Is that how I should take it?"
"Indeed."
The girl raised her right hand and waved it lightly through the air. Before I knew it, threads were attached to her fingertips, catching the candlelight and glinting faintly.
From the far end of the room, several dozen wine bottles were snatched up. The girl pulled on the threads. Whoosh—they came hurtling toward her, and she deftly caught them by billowing her cape. It was a fantastic display of skill.
"Extraordinary!"
I clapped involuntarily. Her white, naked body was fully visible since she was using the cape as a catchment, but I couldn't have cared less.
Ivar Lodbrok placed the bottles wrapped in her cape onto the table one by one.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The bottles lined up like a fortress wall, imposing and grand. Once the count exceeded thirty, the sight was genuinely overwhelming.
"If I may be so bold, my lord, you are no ordinary drinker. I myself am quite experienced when it comes to drinking parties."
"No ordinary wine will do for an honest heart-to-heart?"
"Precisely. What I have presented before you are all the finest poisons distilled in the fires of Hell. A normal vampire would be dead drunk after a single bottle."
She said it with startling boldness.
"My sincerity and yours—which lighter heart will prevail? Shall we have a contest?"
"Haha."
I clapped once more.
"Now that's what I like to hear. This is the moment I've been longing for, head of the Kunkuska Trading Company."
The girl before me was undeniably clever.
She would remember and judge every word of this conversation. And she was unaware that her very cleverness was the foothold on which she would trip.
"If you would—"
"Ah, a contest? Of course I accept."
Because I didn't have any sincerity to begin with.
The only one who has sincerity to pour out at this drinking party is you, Ivar Lodbrok.
"I've gone rounds with Barbatos and Beleth, you know. I can't claim to be the strongest in the Demon Lord's army, but I'd at least make the top ten. Let me say this upfront—you'll regret challenging me."
"Just having the honor of facing off against you, my lord, is more than enough. Where would regret come in?"
We were each making exactly opposite judgments.
From Ivar Lodbrok's perspective, I had already uncovered nearly all the truths. That Ivar Lodbrok had a separate true self. That she had lost her lover to the Demon Lord long ago. In short—there were no inner feelings left for me to discover…
Since her true feelings had all been exposed anyway, she probably figured all that remained was to draw out mine. A fight where she had nothing to lose.
*The truth is, it's you who has nothing but things to lose.*
She'd leaped into a contest to draw out sincerity that never existed in the first place. Utterly foolish.
*For example, Ivar Lodbrok—*
I took out my pipe and placed it in my mouth.
*—you have no idea that I prepared medicinal herbs with a <hangover-curing effect> in advance.*
The tobacco stuffed into the pipe was roughly half medicinal herbs. A secret weapon I'd wrung out of Jeremy through relentless pestering. Not a single herb but a combination of several, freshly synthesized, so it was impossible to detect by smell.
I drew deeply on the pipe and exhaled. I could feel my mind growing clearer. Whether it was the mood or the effect, it worked beautifully. Ho ho.
"Right then. Let's drink to our hearts' content."
"Yes. Allow me to pour for you first."
Ivar Lodbrok poured the wine with impeccable courtesy.
It was a game whose outcome was already decided, but that's the way the world works. Life is a game. In the sense that who will win is predetermined from the start. That's why mega-corporations build casinos—because they're certain they'll be the winners.
One hour.
Two hours.
And at last, five hours.
We drank without resting for even a single moment. The first thirty bottles were long gone, followed by another thirty, and yet another thirty.
And so the girl before me—
"Hnn…"
—had gone completely red in the face.
"Ivarrr Lodbrok? Are you drunk? You're drunk, aren't you? Kahaha."
"Not at all…my lord, if I may. You're clearly the one who's drunk."
"I'm not! Not at all!"
I cackled with laughter. I really did look like a drunkard. Whether it was Ivar Lodbrok or me, our tongues had been twisted for ages and we'd devolved into pure mumbling.
"Now it's your turn! Time for you to drink!"
"Very well…here I go!"
The naked girl hoisted a bottle high in the air. Then she chugged it straight from the bottle with gusto. Gulp, gulp—the sound was vividly audible, and in moments another bottle was empty.
"Ugh! Now it's… your turn, my lord…!"
Incidentally, Ivar Lodbrok had at some point shrugged off her cape entirely. She was drinking completely naked. Not just her face—her neck, her chest, everything had turned crimson. A perfectly accomplished drunkard of a girl stood before me.
I answered with a bright, cheerful smile.
"Good…good! Hold on a sec, let me smoke my pipe…"
I placed the pipe in my mouth.
Mmm.
What a fine aroma indeed.