Sun Hang rubbed his wet hair with a bedsheet he had picked up and walked out of the bathroom, only to find the Fisherman standing before him, clutching a bottle with a delighted expression.
"Look, look! What treasure did I find?"
"What treasure?" Yano poked his head out from a nearby dorm room.
"A bottle of vodka!" the Fisherman said, shaking the bottle in his hand. "A military special-supply edition, too!"
"Vodka from over a hundred years ago... can you still drink that?" Sun Hang eyed the bottle skeptically. Though the vodka had never been opened, less than half the liquid remained inside. Its color was far from the clarity of ordinary distilled liquor, instead looking murky, with suspicious white sediment at the bottom.
"Who'd be willing to drink this? This is a hot commodity on the collectors' market. Every bottle opened means one less bottle left," the Fisherman said. "An antique liquor preserved this well could fetch seventy or eighty thousand at the very least if we took it back to the mainland. If we got lucky and found an auction, it might even sell for over a hundred thousand!"
"Then you'd better hold on to it. Don't drop it," Sun Hang teased. "If it hits the ground, that's basically throwing a hundred grand into the water."
Yet to Sun Hang's surprise, the moment he finished speaking, the Fisherman tore off the foil seal around the neck and pulled out the cork.
"Huh? Weren't you planning to take it back and sell it?" Yano asked in confusion.
"Sell my ass. Whether we can even make it out alive is another matter. I've pinched pennies for half my life. What's wrong with indulging a little at the end?" The Fisherman closed his eyes, brought the bottle's mouth to his nose,