During my discussion with Momonga, I caught a few pieces of information that I couldn't simply ignore.
"So that wasn't all of them?"
"No," Momonga replied. "We captured the one they call the Captain—a God-kin—but according to Liriotte, several others, including Clementine's brother Quai-esse, were recalled to the Theocracy just before they set out."
Recalling them before departure... that opened up several possibilities.
"Is it possible this Quai-esse and the others are subordinates of a Player or an NPC from the Eight Greed Kings?"
"I considered that as well. But if that's the case, they might have known we were coming." Momonga paused. "What if they recalled their most trusted assets while leaving the rest as expendable?"
"But would they really leave an old woman like Kaire and a God-kin behind? Would they just throw away a World Item?" I asked.
Losing Downfall of Castle and Country so easily seemed unlike a cautious organization.
"It's possible they possess a brainwashing World Item superior to that one," Momonga mused. "If they have a better version, they wouldn't need to cling to a single dress."
He mentioned that there were several World Items, including a "stationary statue," that could change effects based on a person's karma value.
"Maybe that's the 'ominous thing' Nigun mentioned," I suggested.
The something Nigun saw before his brainwashing might have been that very statue.
"So the Theocracy still has brainwashing-type World Items in reserve..."
"And Innate Talents," Momonga added. "Liriotte's prophecy is a terrifyingly accurate ability."
We had neutralized the Black Scripture, but we were far from safe. I let out a heavy sigh.
"For now, we'll continue the leveling experiments with Brain and the Lizardmen while rebuilding the settlement. We'll use the intel from Liriotte, Clementine, and Nigun to draft our next move. Any objections?"
"I have one suggestion," I said.
Momonga looked at me. Information gathering was our lifeline now, and for that, we needed powerful allies. We could approach the Empire, the Kingdom, or even the demi-human nations like the Dragon Kingdom or the Council State.
"You met that guy... Beef Stroganoff, right?"
"It's Gazef Stronoff."
Ah, right. I knew it sounded off. I'd been wondering why a man was named after a beef stew.
"You met him as Ainz Ooal Gown, and he asked you to visit sometime. Why don't you head there for intel?"
"…He wasn't a bad man. I actually found him quite likable," Momonga admitted.
"Then it's perfect. It's easier to talk to an acquaintance than to start from scratch. If we're going to look for info, let's start in the Kingdom and meet Gazef."
"Not immediately, though," Momonga cautioned.
Of course. We had to move, but the timing had to be perfect. We needed a solid plan first.
"I'm heading to Bar Nazarick to check on Picky's work. Want to come along?"
"…No, I'll pass. I'm not particularly good with alcohol."
Momonga waved me off, saying he wanted to do some research in his Overlord form while he wasn't tired. I left the study and headed for the lounge.
***
Subtle lighting illuminated rows of bottles on the shelves of Bar Nazarick—a shot bar where the Sous-chef, Picky, served as the bartender.
"Demiurge, is something bothering you?"
"No, it's nothing, Picky."
Demiurge, who usually visited with Cocytus, had come alone tonight. He had ordered a single cocktail and hadn't touched it. As a bartender, Picky knew better than to pry into a customer's business, but he couldn't help but worry.
What could have happened?
He had successfully wiped out the Black Scripture that threatened his masters. Why was he so depressed? Picky was polishing a glass when the bell above the door chimed. He looked up, expecting Cocytus.
"M-Master Kawasaki! Welcome."
"Hey, Picky. Hope I'm not interrupting."
Kawasaki had arrived in his human form. He had promised to visit eventually, but Picky hadn't expected him so soon.
"Master Kawasaki!" Demiurge stood up to bow, but Kawasaki held up a hand.
"I'm just here for a drink. Picky, where should I sit?"
Picky felt a small smile tug at his lips. A bartender directing a guest to their seat was the fundamental rule of a bar. Kawasaki could have sat anywhere, but he had asked, showing respect for Picky's profession.
"Please, have a seat here." Picky gestured to the stool to the right of Demiurge. He usually reserved the left for Cocytus.
"Don't mind if I do."
"It is a tremendous honor to share a drink with you," Demiurge said.
"You're exaggerating," Kawasaki laughed, taking his seat.
"What can I get for you?"
"Give me a Gin and Tonic."
A Gin and Tonic—a simple cocktail of gin, lime, and tonic water. But the flavor changed drastically depending on the stir, the brand of gin, and the way the lime was squeezed. It was a true test of a bartender's skill.
Tanqueray London Dry, Bombay Sapphire, Beefeater, or Gordon's... which should I use? Picky wondered.
Tanqueray was strong at 47% with a sharp, clean finish. Bombay Sapphire was floral and easy to drink. Beefeater was a classic for citrus-based drinks. Gordon's was well-balanced.
Master Kawasaki said he can handle his liquor. Tanqueray it is.
Picky chilled the glass with ice and water, discarded the contents, then poured the chilled gin followed by the tonic. He stirred gently, lifting the ice from the bottom to the top to preserve the carbonation. He finished it with a squeeze of lime and placed it on the counter.
"Your Gin and Tonic, Master."
Kawasaki took a sip in silence. "You've got a good hand, Picky. This is excellent."
"Thank you!"
Picky felt a swell of pride. To have his skills recognized by his creator's friend was the ultimate fulfillment.
***
I enjoyed the cocktail, watching Demiurge out of the corner of my eye. The condensation on his glass had pooled into a puddle on the counter; his drink was warm.
"So? You've got something on your mind, don't you?"
For my second drink, I ordered a Dry Martini—the King of Cocktails. Picky started on it immediately, mixing gin and vermouth.
"Pandora's Actor mentioned something," Demiurge said quietly. "He said that Master Ulbert's 'Evil' and mine are different."
That damn puppet, I thought. He really wanted to give the Guardians something to chew on.
"He's right. The 'Evil' Ulbert carried was a different beast entirely."
"How is it different? Please, tell me. I fear I may be losing my way."
He was overthinking it. Typical high-intellect NPC. I signaled Picky to make a second Martini for Demiurge.
"Do you know why Touch Me and Ulbert were always at each other's throats?"
"Because of their conflicting ideologies of Justice and Evil?"
"Wrong," I said, popping a piece of smoked salmon into my mouth. "Justice and Evil are just two sides of the same coin. They flip easily."
I leaned in. "The reason they fought was simple: they wanted the same thing, but their methods were incompatible."
Touch Me was a high-ranking police officer in the real world. Ulbert was a revolutionary—a terrorist to some.
"There are things Justice cannot punish. Touch Me was an enforcer of the law, but that made him a prisoner of the system. He had to follow orders even when he saw the elite committing atrocities right in front of him. He loathed his own powerlessness."
"Lord Touch Me? Powerless?" Demiurge looked stunned.
"In the real world, yeah. One man can only do so much. He did what he could, but it wasn't the Justice he dreamed of. Ulbert was different. He saw the world for the hellscape it was. He saw the rich hoarding food while the weak were treated like objects. He decided to destroy that system."
I remembered the fire in Ulbert's eyes when he told me: 'I will become the villain. I will do the evil things necessary to achieve true justice.'
"That was Ulbert's 'Evil.' He committed sins to save others, and he was prepared to be judged for it. He was a proud, noble sort of Evil."
"Commit evil... to achieve justice?" Demiurge gripped his head.
Ulbert's biggest mistake was programming Demiurge with "Evil" without explaining the nuance. He assumed Demiurge would understand that the evil acts were a means to an end, not the end itself.
"Evil and Justice are decided by history," I continued. "What is considered a sin today might be a heroic act in a hundred years. Those two just wanted the other to see their side. They were both right, and they were both wrong."
I stood up and walked around the counter. "Picky, let me make one."
"Yes! Please!"
I wasn't trying to show off, but I felt this conversation needed a specific visual. I began pouring liqueurs into a tall glass, one after another, calculating the density with surgical precision.
"Ulbert chose to be hated to change the world quickly. Touch Me chose to work within the system to change it slowly. They both wanted to change the world because they loved it."
I poured the final layer and looked at the glass. Picky gasped. It was a technique even he couldn't master—using my Cookman skills to defy the natural mixing of liquids.
"Demiurge. Don't just satisfy your sadism. Be the 'Evil' that Ulbert intended—an Evil that carries pride and serves a higher purpose."
I set the glass down. It was a 10-layer cocktail, glowing with vibrant colors. I struck a match and lit the top layer of brandy. The flames danced over the spectrum.
"I call this: The Nazarick."
It was a tribute to Momonga's pride and the glory of the guild. It wasn't meant to taste great—it was a visual metaphor.
"Think about it, Demiurge. Picky, thanks for letting me use the bar. I'll see you later."
I walked out, leaving Demiurge staring into the flames of the cocktail.
***
I was mesmerized by the ten-colored glow of the drink. The Nazarick. It was a name that carried the weight of our entire existence.
"SORRY. WE. ARE. LATE."
"I was busy talking with Albedo," Shalltear added as she and Cocytus entered the bar.
They had finished their duties and come for a victory drink. Pandora's Actor had declined, stating he was a beer man.
"It's very quiet in here," Shalltear noted. "Did something happen?"
"Master Kawasaki was just here," I replied.
The two of them let out a collective groan of regret.
"He told me a story," I said. "A story about Lord Ulbert and Lord Touch Me."
"HOW. ENVIABLE..."
"That's so unfair!" Shalltear whined.
She reached for the cocktail, but Picky stopped her. "That one is meant to be sipped with a straw, Lady Shalltear."
"A straw? How unusual," she said, eyeing the glass.
I looked at the two of them. "This is Master Kawasaki's handmade cocktail: The Nazarick."
"I want one! Just a sip! Please!" Shalltear begged.
"No," I said, pulling the glass toward me. "You and Cocytus are getting a special meal from the ingredients you found in the forest, aren't you? This is mine."
I took a sip through the straw. The flavor was secondary to the feeling it gave me. Master Kawasaki had told me that story hoping I would reach the same height as Lord Ulbert. I had only just reached the starting line, but I knew my goal now.
When I finally reach that peak, I thought, looking at the empty glass, I will ask him for this drink again.
Next — Menu 19: The Leveling Menu
***
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