Chapter 57: The Cup of Mysteries

  I expected the back room at a bodega to have backstock and possibly a delivery dock, but that’s not what I found. Instead, we walked into a parlor filled with smoke and shady-looking men hunched around filthy tables. A burly man wearing a vest served drinks from the bar.

  “Bit late for a couple of kids to be out and about,” he said as he looked up from a glass he was washing.

  Leslie put on her most charming smile and led me to a table. “Is the kitchen still open?”

  “Kitchen’s always open,” the man replied. “What do you want?”

  “How about a couple of burgers?” Leslie asked, looking at me for confirmation.

  The man nodded and pushed through a swinging door to a small kitchen in the back.

  “Is it alright that we’re here?” I asked, looking out of the corner of my eye at the men drinking beer. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  Leslie chuckled, but one of the men in a booth must have overheard me because he answered for her. “Alcohol was never illegal for us. What is against the rules is bringing peasants in here."

  “He’s not a peasant!” Leslie snapped, causing the grown man to flinch. “Just so you know, Oliver here is a master crafter.”

  I gaped at her. None of that was true. Leslie, however, had other ideas. She doubled down. “Do you want proof? Bring your beer over here. He will make it ten times better.”

  “Uh,” I gasped, but it was too late. The man strode across the room to our table and slammed the beer in front of me, causing bits of it to slosh out onto my hand. He was a lot bigger than he looked sitting down.

  “Are you prepared to pay for it if he ruins it?” the man asked.

  Leslie grinned from ear to ear. “Only if you’re prepared to pay for his services if it knocks you dead?”

  That got a round of chuckles from the other men at his table. It was painfully obvious that all eyes in the makeshift bar were on me.

  “Go on, son,” an older man seated at the table said. “Make it better.”

  “Do what you did with the steak,” Leslie whispered.

  I looked down at the half-drunk beer. Analysis was unusually quiet. Was that because beer was illegal, or did it only offer suggestions for beverages I was old enough to drink? I pursed my lips and prepared to blow up a beer.

  Beer was different than anything I’d infused before. I started small, adding a trickle of mana to the amber liquid. It glowed and bubbled, but showed no signs of exploding. So, I added even more mana. I didn’t stop until the bubbles threatened to spill over.

  Then I slid it over to him. “Normally, I’d taste this first, but you’re on your own for this one.”

  “Good kid!” the older man guffawed to another round of raucous laughter.

  The man who challenged me, didn’t look very convinced. “You kids sure this won’t actually knock me dead?”

  Leslie puffed her chest out proudly. “I ate his creations plenty of times, and I’m still here. You don’t have to drink it if you’re scared.”

  “Wait, I didn’t say I was…” he looked around apprehensively as the rest of the room laughed. “Fine! Bottoms up!”

  Without another word, he chugged the entire thing in one swig. The whole bar went silent as he stood with the empty glass tipped back. It seemed like an eternity before he reacted. He slammed the glass on the counter and let out a roar. “More!”

  Several other patrons gathered around as the man fell into the chair next to me.

  “Are you all right, Sam?” one of them asked.

  Sam belched, gasping for breath. “That was…the best…beer… I’ve…ever had.”

  The commotion brought the bartender out of the kitchen. He walked over to our table and looked down at the empty glass. “What’s going on here?”

  “This kid made your swill taste good,” someone from the back of the room said.

  The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  Before I knew it, he returned with several tall glasses of beer.

  I groaned. “I’m trying to replenish my mana with a meal, not spend what little I have left.”

  “So after you eat?” someone asked.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Analysis: Moonchrome batteries can be integrated into the mug handle to create a self-infusing beverage.

  The Analysis came complete with a ritual circle. Woodie uncoiled itself from my wrist and etched the design into the table without asking for permission.

  “Hey!” the bartender barked. “What is that, and what did it just do to my table?”

  I sighed, taking the empty mug the first patron had set on the table. I snuck it in my bag and took out a duplicate. My stomach rumbled as I placed it in the center of the ritual Woodie drew.

  Leslie gave me a troubled look. “Are you sure you have enough mana for this?”

  Mana: 329/700

  “I’m low,” I whispered.

  Leslie grinned, not bothering to lower her voice. “I have an idea. Everyone hold hands.”

  To my surprise, the men and women in the restaurant did as instructed. They gathered around our table in a circle and held hands like I was about to say a prayer. Leslie winked and placed her hand on my shoulder, completing the circuit. I used Mana Link.

  The mug soaked everybody’s mana in, getting some kind of twisted revenge against the half-drunk patrons who drank from it every day. Several of them toppled over, done in by the combination of low mana and being drunk. Bright light flooded through the room as though the mug was reflecting sunlight in a cascade of colors. Then it was done, and the mug sat on the table, the only difference being a shiny silver handle instead of glass.

  Cup of Mysteries

  Magic Item

  Cursed Item

  Grade: C

  Condition: 100

  Effect: Devouring Infusion

  You have gained 500 experience points.

  Analysis: Use Insulation to limit contact with the Moonchrome handle.

  Your Research skill has increased: +1 (26)

  Before anyone could react, I placed the modified cup in my bag and took out the original. Everyone groaned, and the bartender stepped around the table to confront me. “You can’t take that. It’s mine.”

  “Actually,” I replied. “This one is yours. I made a duplicate.”

  “A duplicate?” Sam asked. “Aren’t we going to test out the cup with the silver handle?”

  I looked up over my shoulder at him. “Are you sure you want to? This cup is cursed.”

  “Cursed?” someone gasped. “How?”

  “I’m not sure,” I replied with a shrug. “I’ll have to figure that out later.”

  “Let me try it anyhow,” Sam bellowed, adding a belch for emphasis.

  “Alright,” I replied, reaching into my bag for it. “It’s your funeral.”

  “Hold it,” Leslie stopped my hand. “Two silver. One for the first beer you already drank, and another for the second.”

  Sam laughed, reaching into his pocket and depositing a handful of silver on the table. “Here’s a round on me. I’m sure everyone is going to want to try this.”

  “You’re going to have to pay for the beer too,” the bartender grumbled, adding under his breath. “I still say that mug should be mine.”

  A strange thing happened when he filled the glass. He staggered for a moment and fell over. The cup didn’t break, but shining amber liquid spilled all over the floor.

  “What happened, Wilbur?” a woman asked as she rushed over to check on him.

  Wilbur sat up, rubbing his head. “I don’t rightly know. All I know is, I filled the cup, and the room began to spin. It was like I was the one who was drunk, even though I hadn’t had a drop.”

  “Peculiar,” the old man said, carefully picking the cup up off the ground. “You don’t suppose it only reacts when it has liquid in it. Also, perhaps the magic works through the handle.”

  The bartender took a few moments to situate himself and refilled the glass, careful not to touch the handle at all.

  “That solved that,” he said, still sounding tired. “Don’t touch the handle.”

  Sam took the filled glass and sat back down at my table. He tried a sip and frowned. “This is just normal beer. You don’t suppose…”

  He took a deep breath and placed both hands on the silver handle. Light poured into the beer, causing it to bubble but not froth. Sam grunted and quickly pulled his hands away.

  “Wilbur’s wrong,” he announced, sounding as winded as the bartender had been. “It doesn’t make you drunk. I know what that feels like. It gives you mana sickness. That cup drained all my mana.”

  “Ohh,” several people chorused as recognition sank in.

  Sam carefully grabbed the mug without touching the handle, and downed its contents in one long gulp. He slammed the cup on the table afterwards and let out a cheer. “That did it. Fastest buzz I ever got. I need this cup. Sell it to me.”

  “No way!” someone from the back of the crowd shouted. “Sell it to me.”

  Before I knew it, and without my consent, I had a bidding war over the Cup of Mysteries. The patrons didn’t even care that it was cursed. They had to have it. By the end of the makeshift auction, the bartender won it for ten gold. I placed it in my bag while they were bidding to keep it safe. That, and to make a copy for myself.

  “I’m sorry,” Leslie apologized after the crowd cleared. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  I took a bite of the charred cheeseburger that the bartender finally brought out after claiming his prize. “It’s okay. I never made that much money before. I wonder what Wilbur will say if I sell cups to his patrons?”

  “Ooh,” Leslie giggled. “That would make him so mad after what he paid for it.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to him,” I admitted. “I need to fix it first anyway. Right now, it completely drains your mana if you touch the handle.”

  “Is that the curse?” Leslie gasped. “I thought it made them extra drunk.”

  I laughed. “It was probably that too. You know how it feels when my rituals drain all of your mana. That’s what happened when he infused the beer.”

  An old grandfather clock chimed, causing Leslie to jump. “It’s getting late. I think I’d better call a ride. My parents will worry if I don’t get home soon.”

  “Oh,” I replied, feeling bad since the whole idea of feeding me was to give me mana. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to do anything tonight.”

  Leslie didn’t seem disappointed at all. “That’s okay. This was a lot of fun.”

  “Tell you what,” I hastily added, still feeling guilty. “How about I meet you for breakfast at the guild. You know, to pay you back.”

  She beamed at me. “I’d love that! It’s a date.”

  I wanted to ask her if she meant a real date, but she took off to ask the bartender to use his phone before I could.

  I did reload the bag before I left the bar. Unfortunately, the food quality was nowhere near as good as Miss Aires’. I copied a couple of cheeseburgers and slipped them into my shadow for Grace while no one was looking.

  “I promise to make better food for you very soon,” I whispered, ducking my head under the table so she could hear me over the din of the bar.

  “It’s okay,” she squeaked back through the shadow. “This is plenty.”

  With that settled, I headed home for the night, eager to get a good night’s sleep so I could get back to work perfecting my bag. Breakfast wasn’t the only reason I wanted to go to the guild. I also wanted to recruit Leila and her lackies to do some rituals. If I could just improve the ritual by one or two tiers, I could nullify the food problem.

  I tried sneaking up the stairs to my room, but Beth was waiting for me.

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