Dungeons for the Devil, Dungeons for the Core (Book Version Title: A Different World Dungeon Made with the Devil)

The head of Doran's village, who preceded the three Horn Tuba Dime - Crowe said, the Preparatory Committee for the Establishment of the Subhuman (Non-Hume) Liaison Conference - was thinking with a difficult face.

"Sure, this ale - was it called beer? - is fascinating... as a swallowing side"

"Are you saying you don't have an opinion as a maker?

"This...... I can't say anything until they tell me I should do what the recipe says, but I actually try it. Besides, if what is written in this recipe is true, it means that the new machine axis is entirely from the yeast used. See if you can produce steadily."

Well, I guess that would convince Horn in his heart. But the words you actually utter in your mouth are apart from your inner thoughts.

"Right. If you can't, I won't ask you to. Let's (...) hit something else."

The mayor of the village colors the words of the horn.

"You think there's anyone else who can make this brew?

"Chief. The only request from the Spirit user is to deliver a consolidated amount of beer for the May Festival. And this request is also to teach the willing (...) how to make beer. Even if you don't bother asking us, you can make as many beers as you want."

"... you think we don't deserve that?

The chief looks at the horn with angry eyes and inquires in a low voice. The opposing horn only answers pale. Neither is he a young man born yesterday. The bottom of the chiefs' bellies are visible.

I know you're thinking of buying some time and stealing and drinking in the name of taste anyway, but all this time, I need you to throw away that kind of look at everyone.

"Let me tell you a word from the spiritual user." There is no need to return words other than consent to prepare our fellow citizens for liberation. "

Once the words have been cut, the horn adds slightly loosening one cheek.

"You came to tell me this, too." You don't need to drink indifferent to an attempt to (...) shower an enemy country with a new booze. "

Pickled and shoulder-trembling, the length looks at the horn with a bottom glowing eye and makes a clear statement.

"Shall I have the recipe handed to you? Beer (...) thirty barrels by May Festival, no doubt delivered"