Chapitre 10: Chapter 10 Brewing a New Plan
Julian's initial hesitancy melted away. Frank came across as genuine, and everything Graf had said about the union seemed accurate. Julian agreed to join, and Frank collected the fifty cent membership fee, inducting him into the Workers Union and ensuring his name would be listed with union headquarters by the end of the week.
Julian returned to the platform, where Graf quickly met him. "How'd it go? Not too bad, right?"
Julian smiled. "You were right. They got me six dollars from Mr. Krian."
Graf's eyes widened. "Six dollars?" He looked at Julian's bandaged hand, then slapped his forehead. "Wait here. Yep, I'm going to get my six dollars worth from Mr. Krian as well!"
Mr. Krian made a face as though he had just experienced the most disturbing incident in his life. Having lost six dollars to the union under what they claimed was a work injury, he was already pissed off. Krian spent the whole morning reviling them in his private office, so when Graf came barreling through, reeking of sweat with a wrapped hand thrusting itself into Krian's face, demanding compensation, it was really just too much.
Graf was surprised that Mr. Krian didn't resist at all to his actions. Instead, he almost threw six dollars into Graf's face and ushered him out. The union had rattled Krian enough that he seemed not to be in the mood for arguing any longer.
Julian and Graf were taken by complete surprise, so they decided to push up their "market research." They should have waited the whole month to save up money, but now, with the unexpected windfall, they put on their best clothes and went straight to all the pubs.
Leaning into the post war economic strain and the long lasting psychological scars of war, many people were searching for an outlet. Next to women, high proof alcohol was the best release. Different pubs had different liquor to sell, in various states of liquidation.
Graf led Julian into a bar called The Worker's Friend. They went through a tiny black door, and the bouncer gave them a look before letting them pass. Inside, Julian nearly gagged. The smell—rank with sweat and vomit nearly turned him back.
As soon as Graf walked in, the bartender recognized him from all his recent visits. "What'll it be today? Redfruit wine?"
Redfruit wine, cheap and plentiful among the working class, was an 11 to 12 cent glass of wine at best little more than a fermented fruit, sometimes sour tasting at overripe. The price was just low enough to justify the terrible taste for most people.
But Graf wasn't interested in Redfruit wine today. He leaned in and spoke softly, "One Golden Light and one Lady in the Skirt, please."
The bartender raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback. Graf and Julian were laborers; neither of them should have to luxery to order these mid range, high proof liquors. But the bartender didn't question anything, people here know that the boss behind this bar mixed with gangs and no one dared not pay, so he went to prepare their drinks.
Their drinks arrived two glasses of white whiskey, just over half full. One was brimming with the color of champagne, the other a deep shade of orange. The bartender leaned forward, his rank musk of booze filling the air, and said: "Five dollars."
Graf tossed a five on the counter, and the bartender pocketed it without comment.
"I will go ahead," Graf said, his voice barely containing excitement. He tipped his glass back and took a long swallow, after letting out an appreciative groan he mumbled "Just Perfect," sliding the glass across to Julian. "Your turn."
Julian picked up the glass. He took a cautious sip to savor the taste.
"This is what makes it rich—strong but sweet," Julian said, licking his lips. "Is that a woody flavor?"
Graf grinned. "That's dragonblood wood. It's supposedly the key to how strong this alcohol comes out. Who knows how it works, but that's the word around town."
Julian found the concept interesting; in this world they didn't distill high proof alcohol like in his dream, but instead strengthened weaker spirits by running them through dragonblood wood. The dragonblood wood was the primary source of all hard liquor in the surrounding area.
Julian then tried the Lady in the Skirt. While it was a bit bitter, the bitterness didn't negatively affect the flavor—if anything, it took the drink to another level of complexity. It was better than the Golden Light to him. The Lady in the Skirt was subtly sweet—a sweetness that lingered in his thoughts like memories of a happy parting.
They quickly drained their glasses and left the bar, back in their rented room, they were quick about it. They dumped their moonshine into two glasses to taste test against the drinks they had just sampled.
They sweetened their moonshine with syrup, which helped cut the bitterness, but it still couldn't compare to Golden Light or the Lady in the Skirt. There was nothing wrong with its alcohol content it had the flavor, but it tasted rough, like being hit over the head with a club. It wasn't as polished as the pricier stuff.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone