Ogre’s Battle(2)

The tavern boss walked out, six bottles of home-made whiskey in his hand. He almost couldn’t keep up with the pace of the ogre’s drinking.

“This batch is from my personal collection. It has a diff’rent taste, but be careful! The thing’s strong!” he politely reminded them. However, his tone made it seem like he was actually egging them on. It was obvious that these customers could drink up all his stock, earning him a great deal of money.

Medium Rare hummed an affirmative, grabbing the tray and placing it on the table. He took one of the bottles by the neck, pouring the liquid down his throat. A wood-tinted smell of fruit spread out as the alcohol flowed...