How to Live as a Genius Scholar in another World

Chapter 29 – Francesca Aetrinen (1)

—–CROW—– 

I learned to drink in this other world.

Having lived for three years under professors who treated graduate students like personal footrests, while being the poster child for “mother missing, father dead,” I had no choice but to drink.  That bitch Yernara was a heavy drinker too.

Even though I learned to drink late in life, I was confident in my alcohol tolerance.

But what did “alcohol tolerance” even mean?

For people with normal thinking, alcohol tolerance referred to the limit before becoming completely incapacitated.

But when I discussed my tolerance, I often claimed it was “the amount I drank before almost dying last time.” Just like men all over Earth bragged about their drinking capacity.

In other words, I, who became incapacitated after three and a half 2000cc mugs of beer in this world, could say my tolerance was about 7000cc.  Rounding it up to 10,000cc, and considering a beer bottle was between 500 and 600ml, that was a whopping 20 bottles of beer.

Wasn’t that amazing?  Objectively, the limit to which you could destroy your liver wasn’t something to brag about, but I was proud of it.

“Oh my.”

But this alcohol was clearly different.  I was taken aback when I received the distilled liquor that Francesca supposedly passed out from on her first day at the inn.

Francesca must have wanted to commemorate her first day in Sargardis, as the glass bottle looked quite expensive.  From the perspective of Britannian commoners who patched their windows with leather, alcohol bottles were rarely made of glass.

Although the glass’s transparency was low and looked cloudy to my modern eyes, the otherworldly macho Nord was secretly afraid it would break.

And in this world, distilled liquor in a glass bottle meant it was incredibly strong.

“My husband and I are quite the drinkers, but even we can’t handle more than three glasses of ‘Abkadi’.”

That’s what the innkeeper said.

The name of the alcohol was terrifying.  Abkadi. It was probably a proper noun since it couldn’t be translated, but it sounded like the name of a demon or vampire.

I was sure that even half a bottle would have me sprawled on the floor like dog food, crawling around as a drunken zombie, groaning.

‘Can this even be counted as just one drink?’

I took a small sip and sniffed it on my way back to the room.  It was closer to hand sanitizer or medical alcohol.

It would definitely be effective as a disinfectant.  It would also be perfect for murder, as it could easily send someone across the rainbow bridge if they were forced to drink it.

Creak—

I entered Francesca’s room.

She was sitting on the bed, working on the robe I would wear.  From a distance, her slender figure made her look very mature.  Like a young mother doing sewing work at home.

But then what was I, returning to the room with an expensive bottle of alcohol?  I felt like a scumbag domestic abuser, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Francesca noticed me as the door opened and said,

“Oh, Nord. You’re back?”

“Yeah.  But why are you already sewing when your hand was just injured?”

“It’s fine.  The bleeding stopped, so it won’t get any blood on it.”

“Sure.”

I sighed and put down the Abkadi. Francesca flinched when she saw the bottle.

“I-is that…?”

“Yes, the alcohol you passed out from. I got it for disinfection, so give me your hand.”

I poured some alcohol onto the cloth I used earlier and brought it to her. This time, Francesca obediently offered her hand. I gently covered the wound with the wet cloth.

Francesca flinched as the alcohol-soaked cloth touched her wound.

“Owwww!”

“Does it hurt? Just bear with it for a bit.”

“Ugh…!!”

Francesca stomped her feet.  The wooden floor creaked.  Those amazing breasts kept stealing my attention.  Please stop jiggling.  The feeling of my dick turning into an anaconda was creepy.

‘Vectorman, heroes of Earth! Lend me your strength!’

I exerted superhuman mental strength to resist the allure of the jiggling, bountiful valley.  Then I removed the cloth from Francesca’s finger.

“There, disinfection complete.”

“Haa, haa, haa…!”

Francesca trembled, tears welling up in her eyes.  It was understandable that it hurt, considering the strong smell of the distilled liquor.  It was practically otherworldly Albothyl concentrate.

“Give it here. Let’s rinse it with water one last time.”

“A-again?”

“Don’t pull away.  This is the last step.”

I rinsed it with water to remove any remaining alcohol. Finally, I tore a piece of cloth and bandaged the wound. I was relieved.

“Ugh. You worry too much, Nord.  You were the one who said to only do what I want.”

Francesca said, holding her finger.  I chuckled and sat down on the only chair in the room.

“That’s why you need to take better care of yourself. To enjoy life, you need to be healthy.”

“Whatever.”

Francesca seemed sulky.  I watched her with a smile, cleaning the needle with the alcohol-soaked cloth, and thought about something else.

‘Should I learn some other magic besides Beast Regression?’

I realized this every time something like this happened.  In this world, where technological advancement was replaced by magic, the ability to use magic made a huge difference.

If I could use fire magic, I would have sterilized the needle beforehand.  I wouldn’t have shivered in the cold in that damn ruin if I could make a fire with magic.

Glug, glug, glug—

That’s when it happened.  While I was busy cleaning the needle, Francesca took a cup from somewhere and poured the distilled liquor into it.  I was startled and shouted,

“Hey! Why are you pouring that?!”

“Huh? Didn’t you bring it for us to drink?”

“If I was going to drink it, I would have brought cups! I told you I got it for disinfection!”

Why the hell would I drink something that tasted like industrial alcohol with artificial flavoring? I had no choice because that was the only distilled liquor available.

It seemed like a lie that this was the only distilled liquor they had, but I couldn’t argue with her—what could I do if the innkeeper refused to sell it?—so I just gave up and brought it.

“Stop it and give it to me.  You said you couldn’t even handle one glass.”

I tried to stop Francesca, but I immediately realized my mistake.  As expected, Francesca’s face hardened, and she stepped back, holding the cup.

“I can drink it! The first time, I was just… tired from traveling! See?”

With that brave declaration, Francesca downed the mug-sized wooden cup filled with alcohol in one gulp.

Oh my god.  It reminded me of a YouTube video I saw where a YouTuber downed ten shots of Spirytus and passed out.

Glug, glug, glug!

—Thud!

“Phew!”

Francesca wiped her mouth, exhaling a sweet breath. She looked surprisingly fine. But then,

Tremble, tremble.

Shiver.

“Hey, your legs! Your legs!”

“Huh?”

Francesca’s legs, resting against the table, were trembling! Her small, innocent-looking face gradually turned red, like a frozen crab thrown into boiling water.

Oh shit.  Was it acute alcohol poisoning?  I rushed to her side, worried again, and Francesca slapped her thigh.

Smack!!

After slapping her leg hard enough to stop the trembling, Francesca crossed her arms below her chest and stood proudly.

“I’m fine!”

“No, you don’t look fine at all.”

What kind of bravado was this when she couldn’t even pronounce words properly? I was at a loss for what to do, seeing Francesca completely out of it after just one cup of Abkadi.

Glug, glug, glug—

Francesca picked up the Abkadi again. Despite her trembling hands, she filled her cup a second time with the tenacity of an old man searching for porn.

“Are you going to drink again?”

“Noooo…”

Was she a cat in heat?  Her sudden cuteness stunned me, and Francesca, after filling her cup, offered it to me.

“Here!”

What did “here” mean?

Did it mean, “Drink this and go to sleep”?

I grimaced at the pungent smell of the Abkadi.  It felt like the alcohol fumes were entering my brain! I covered my nose with the back of my hand and took three steps back.

“Hey! Don’t shove that in my face! It smells awful!”

“Huh? Do I smell…?”

“No, not you, the alcohol.”

Francesca buried her nose in her arm and sniffed.  I seized the opportunity to grab the Abkadi bottle and close the lid.

“This is it.  No more drinking.  This isn’t even alcohol.  If you put this in a flask with microorganisms and shake it a few times, it would be safe to drink.”

“No more…? I see…”

Dejected, Francesca slumped her shoulders and brought the cup to her mouth—wait, why are you drinking it again?!

“Hey, stop!  That’s bad for you. Give it here.”

Swish!

I snatched the cup from Francesca. She looked at me expectantly, as if asking, “You’ll drink it, right?”

“…Sigh.”

Logical conversation with a drunk person was impossible.  Knowing this, I decided to take just one sip.

—Gulp.

“—Oh god.”

My tongue felt like it was burning! I pulled away from the cup after just one sip.

She drank this in one gulp? Was her stomach okay?  If I drank it all, I would be throwing up until morning.

“…Nord, can’t you dwink?”

Francesca asked with a pitiful look.  Her expression seemed to say, “You’ve wasted half your life,” and I felt a surge of anger. What was she saying when she was barely functioning on autopilot after just one drink?

“I can drink.  And who’s Nord? Am I a roe deer?”

“I dunno… if you won’t dwink it, I will.”

She reached for the cup, so I quickly raised it.  How dare someone under 160cm challenge the height of Nord, who was over 180cm?

“Tsk.  Don’t drink anymore. You won’t be able to work tomorrow.”

“No. I wanna dwink… the innkeepew didn’t give it to me. She told me not to dwink it, so I didn’t…”

“The innkeeper did the right thing.”

Did she decide not to sell it after seeing Francesca like this after just one drink?

The innkeeper was kinder than I thought.  Among the otherworldly merchants, there were plenty who would try to rip off even someone trying to commit suicide by drinking pesticide, saying, “Since you’re going anyway, give me your remaining money.”

“If Nord won’t dwink it, I will…”

“No.  I won’t give it to you. Go away.”

Like any drunk person, she ignored me. I stepped back as Francesca approached. But before I could figure out what to do, my back hit the wall.

“Nooord…”

Francesca, drunk and out of her mind, pressed against me.  Then she stood on tiptoe and reached for the cup I was holding high.

Of course, that wasn’t enough to overcome the height difference—but she had one weapon that could overcome a 30cm height difference.

No, two weapons.

—Rub, rub.

—Two large masses pressed against my lower body.

The sensation was completely different from last time, when they were tightly packed like Korean snacks in leather armor and underwear.  Had they been vacuum-sealed before?!

“Gah!”

I yelped in surprise.

Our height difference was about 30cm. And Francesca’s head, as she nestled against me, was around my solar plexus.

Her head being at my solar plexus meant her shoulders were around my navel, which meant—Francesca’s unrestrained, large breasts were gently covering my dick!

I was screwed!  If this continued, the dick-anaconda sleeping in the valley of my crotch would awaken!

“Sh-shit!”

Trembling, I emptied my mind and downed the alcohol in one gulp.  I thought Francesca would give up if the alcohol disappeared from the cup.

Glug, glug, glug! Gulp!!!

I almost threw up after the second gulp.  I used the esophageal opening drinking technique I learned during my graduate school days to empty the cup!

And only then could I scream!

“Gyaaaaaaaaaaagh! Ow! Ow!”

I screamed like an ancient goblin!

It hurt!  Forget about being drunk, my throat just fucking hurt!

—Modern chemistry states that the hydroxyl group in alcohol molecules readily bonds with water.

The burning sensation when drinking high-proof alcohol was because this functional group formed hydrogen bonds with water in the body, generating heat. That’s what I learned.

But humans were such idiots.  Even after paying expensive tuition fees to learn this in college, I didn’t fully grasp it until I experienced it myself!

“Ugh, fuck!”

Having experienced that damn chemical formula firsthand, I couldn’t help but scream!

My throat itched like I had swallowed boiling water! I could almost feel my stomach churning like a rhinoceros beetle doused in hydrochloric acid!

“Hehe. You drank it.”

Francesca snuggled against me and rubbed her face against mine.  Her soft cheeks were attractive, but I was too preoccupied with my burning esophagus and my dick trying to launch itself to even focus on her body.

Tilt—

My body, reaching its limit, tilted!  Shit! Even so, falling on top of Francesca here was too cliché!

So, I mustered my last bit of strength and twisted my body.

“Eek!”

Thud!

“Ugh.”

“Kya♥”

Me, making a sound like a squashed frog, and Francesca, sounding delighted.  This inn room contained all the chaos, destruction, and oblivion that alcohol could bring.

“Ugh… haha…”

I gasped, enduring the pain in the back of my head.  It really hurt because I fell on the floor.

But lying down gave me a little clarity. I came up with a way to overcome this situation. It felt like lightning struck my brain.

Humans who handled mana became stronger because the mana in their bodies enhanced their physical functions. That’s why even abilities that were difficult to improve through training, like eyesight, were strengthened.

Then what about the liver?

Couldn’t I use mana to enhance the liver’s ability to produce alcohol-processing enzymes? With that thought, I closed my eyes and activated my mana catheters. I tried to focus my mana on my liver.

—Squish.

But I felt a strange sensation.

I opened my eyes slightly and found the source of the discomfort.  Francesca was on top of me, looking down.

“…Nord.”

Her voice was filled with longing.  At that moment, I completely understood how men fell for honey traps. I understood 100% why they were seduced by female spies or succubi.

It wasn’t just the physical contact. The scent, the heated breath, the pounding heart—it was enough to make someone lose their mind.

Humans were creatures of hormones from birth.  Only eunuchs or gays could remain unaffected in this situation.

I was neither a eunuch nor gay.  I was a healthy adult male whose dick would get hard in this situation.

“…Haa, really.”

Slide.

I reached out and touched Francesca’s cheek. She nuzzled against my hand, as if ticklish.

Actually, I had already noticed.

Opening the window and peeking out during her bath, calling me into her room with wet hair, drinking alcohol in a room where we were alone—there was enough circumstantial evidence that only an idiot wouldn’t notice.

But the reason I pretended not to know until now—was because of this fucking anaconda dick.

My penis, influenced by Beast Regression, was honestly too big.  I didn’t even know why it had become an +18 legendary dick. I was hesitant to proceed without knowing the reason.

“Nord… you smell good…”

But a guy who made excuses and ran away in this situation wasn’t even a man, let alone a macho man.  Such a guy should just cut off his dick and bite his tongue.

I met Francesca’s eyes as she buried her face in my chest.

No more awkward conversations were needed.

We intertwined and kissed.

—–CROW—–