I Can't Even Beat a Young Girl... (Seeking Monthly Votes, Seeking Follow-up Reads~)

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Afternoon.

Deep within the Soma Familia headquarters.

The air was thick with an intoxicating, cloying scent of alcohol, laced with a hint of decay that made one's head spin.

A figure draped in a black robe and wearing a faceless mask moved silently through the layers of heavily guarded corridors.

She did not hesitate for a moment, heading straight for the core room where the deity Soma resided.

At the entrance, two guards with hollow eyes slumped against the walls, sliding to the floor.

Their breathing was heavy, and a faint, unnatural pink glow lingered in their pupils—they had been struck by a [Charm] effect and had completely lost consciousness.

Syr didn't even glance at them as she pushed open the heavy wooden door.

Creeeak—

The harsh friction of the door hinges was jarring in the silence.

The room was dimly lit, dominated by a massive vat filled with the raw essence of the divine liquor that could intoxicate even gods.

A thin, frail figure was mechanically stirring the divine brew within the vat.

Soma, the God of Wine.

His black hair was withered and tangled, obscuring his eyes; though his gaze was hidden, his soul seemed entirely shut off from the world.

Through the color of his soul, Syr could perceive that the Soma before her had long since lost interest in everything outside.

His world seemed to be nothing more than that vat of divine liquor.

He was nothing more than a shell governed by the instinct to brew.

However, none of this mattered to her; as long as Soma's liquor was potent enough to knock out a god, that was all that mattered.

"Long time no see, Soma."

Syr offered a simple greeting.

Soma's stirring motion faltered for a brief moment.

He slowly, bit by bit, raised his head.

Who...?

The scent of a god... but so faint... as if separated by a thick fog...

This feeling... it's somewhat familiar...

Soma's mind turned sluggishly, like rusted gears.

He stared at the black robe and the mask for a long time before his memories finally struggled to surface like sediment.

"...Freya?" His voice was dry and hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in ages.

Syr neither nodded nor shook her head.

She simply stood there, as if accepting the identification.

She pulled a heavy money pouch from her robes and dropped it with a thud onto a dusty, empty table in the corner of the room.

The sound rang out sharply in the deathly silent cellar.

"Sell me that..." she began, her voice muffled by the mask, devoid of inflection, "...the divine liquor that can knock out a god in a single gulp."

Soma remained silent.

His hand, still gripping the wooden paddle, tightened instinctively.

After a long pause, he finally spoke: "The Lower World... does not have such liquor. If you want it, you must return to Heaven to find it."

"Oh? You don't have it?"

Syr let out a soft sound of surprise. Gods could distinguish whether another god was lying, and Soma had not been lying just now; he truly did not possess such an extreme divine liquor.

But that's strange...

Syr whispered in confusion.

"Yet I heard... someone had brewed a 'divine liquor' capable of completely intoxicating even a god. If it isn't you... could it be Dionysus? Or perhaps... my intelligence... was wrong?"

Soma shook his head and repeated, "I... I don't have it! And besides..." He mustered the courage to refuse, "I never said I would sell..."

Before he could finish the sentence, he was interrupted by a low chuckle.

"Hehe~"

The laughter, even through the mask, felt chilling, drilling straight into Soma's ears.

"Do you really have room to refuse?"

Syr's voice carried a smile, yet it held no warmth whatsoever.

Soma shuddered violently, his heart pounding so hard it ached against his chest as fear began to well up within him.

His voice grew quieter and quieter: "I... I really don't have the wine you want here..."

It was clear that Soma still felt he had room to negotiate.

"You have no right to refuse. If you don't sell it to me, I will initiate a War Game against you. Don't doubt my ability; I have ten thousand ways to force you to agree to participate in a War Game."

Syr deliberately emphasized the word "force," her tone turning abruptly cold.

"As long as I win, everything your Familia owns, including these divine wines, will belong to me. And you will be sent straight back to Heaven, with no chance of ever descending to the lower world again. You don't actually think... that your drunken 'children' could defeat the children of my Familia, do you?"

Soma felt a tremendous sense of oppression, an invisible weight that nearly suffocated him.

Dead silence permeated the air, thick with the scent of alcohol.

Suddenly—

"Heh..." A light chuckle shattered the stagnant air.

Syr, wearing a mask, turned toward Soma. The laughter was as lighthearted as a young girl discovering her favorite candy, a stark contrast to the icy threat from moments before.

She tilted her head slightly, her voice instantly becoming soft and sweet, as if coated in the finest honey, and she spread her hands.

"So~ please give me the divine wine that can even intoxicate a god~"

A chill shot from the soles of Soma's feet straight to the top of his head.

Terrifying... absolutely terrifying!

What kind of demon is this woman?!

This instantaneous shift in emotion was even more hair-raising than a direct threat.

He felt that if he were to fight the woman before him, he might not have even the slightest chance of winning.

Thinking of this, Soma couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

I am so weak that even a young girl can defeat me...

It is better not to provoke this mad goddess...

If she really got angry and pushed me off the balcony, I wouldn't even be able to resist...

Resigned to his fate, Soma finally put down the wooden paddle he had been using to stir the wine.

He turned around stiffly.

His footsteps were heavy as he shuffled toward a dusty cabinet in the corner of the room.

His fingertips brushed over the rough surface of the wooden cabinet, finally resting on a clay jar that looked the most ordinary, even somewhat worn.

He took it down with the utmost care.

Then, as if offering a sacrifice, he carefully handed the jar of wine to Syr.

His voice was so small it was almost negligible...

"This is the work I am most satisfied with since I came to the lower world. Loki wanted to marry me before and also wanted to obtain this jar of wine... In the end, I refused her too..."

The divine wine brewed by Soma, even the defective products that leaked onto the market—

A defective jar the size of a pomegranate could sell for 60,000 Valis.

This clay jar, the size of a watermelon, was Soma's most prized work; its value was beyond measure.

But in order to get this madwoman out as quickly as possible, Soma was willing to cut off his tail to escape, just like a gecko...

Isn't this a form of survival wisdom?

Syr took the clay jar and leaned in to sniff it.

From the outside, there was no scent of alcohol at all, but that was precisely what indicated the extremely high quality of this wine.

Soma offered a well-intentioned reminder: "This wine has a very high alcohol content. Although it can't make a god drunk in one gulp, drinking a third of it would likely make a god completely intoxicated... You had best dilute it..."

Before Soma could finish his sentence, Syr smiled happily and thanked him: "Thank you, Soma~ If my plan succeeds, I owe you a big favor. If you ever need my Familia's help in the future, I will help you unconditionally once!"

With that, Syr turned and left Soma's room.

Finally, she had obtained the wine that could even intoxicate a god!

Dilute it?

There was absolutely no need to dilute it!

If she could get Lord Thor to drink this wine, then...

Hehe~