Lonely Attack on the Different World

A village on the edge one morning.

Craftsmen's mornings are early, they wake up before the sun sets and start climbing around in giant pots. It is difficult to manage because it is alive, constantly looking at the state, changing the temperature and formulating and adjusting it.

Everything is different, one by one, and every day I see a different face, so I can't keep my eyes open. Look, listen, feel and have a verbal conversation.

That's all you can make if you get out of your hand, you can't learn anything from it if you get out of your hand, you can't get out even though you don't have to get out of your hand to get to the best.

I have left the brewery to my sons already, that one will go for its own supremacy... because otherwise they will not be rewarded, and because otherwise they will not deliver their thoughts, Non and others in this village will no longer be allowed to give up or excuse themselves.

That day, the village perished. We knew and were convinced that the mass outbreak of demons had forced us to evacuate and that there were not enough men to defend the village. At that time, I could only escape while protecting the villagers I couldn't fight, and I had no regrets, it was enough to protect them.

But the demons were crusaded back to the desolate village, and the moment they entered the brewery, they found out. We didn't make it... human lives were saved, but the liquor brewery that supported the village was destroyed, and we lost the food to live in the citation of the destruction of the village.

I could tell by the smell of the air... the liquor barrel had vinegar in it and it was all wasted, the person in charge who was entrusted here was the one who was beaten to death that he had no excuse and could not even make amends.

Liquor brewing made with precious food from poor villages will never be allowed to fail, that's all the ingredients in poor villages, and if you fail once, you can no longer rebuild it... and if you've done this far, you'll be wiped out all the way to the barrels, I've killed the village.

Dead or not redeemed, I can't even face the villagers who trusted me if I at least stab them with one of the demons. I apologize for the booze I wasted while I thought so.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stay when it mattered... it was my fault, I'm sorry... you wanted to make a good drink and please everyone, I'm sorry"

Every barrel and every barrel is thoughtful. Naturally, I saw and talked to him every day, and I kept putting my love into it, the liquors that I hoped would be delicious with repeated trials and errors. I can't reward you for everything I've wasted.

"I'm sorry you guys..."

Put your hands on the barrel. This is the treasure of the poor village, the benefactor who made good liquor and made the poor village happy. The history of this village, which I have cherished and inherited for generations, the barrels that have made delicious liquor for the village for a long time before me or my father or his father... that is what the vinegar stained and it was all wasted, I can no longer make liquor in this barrel... the barrels that have made delicious liquor for a long time, I have wasted important things that I do not know how much I have delighted the people of the border, even though I have been entrusted with inheritance... I...

I don't remember how many hours I was there, I can't remember how sorry I might have been, I'm sure I would have cried... and when I turned around, my black eyes were staring at me, my deep, deep, black eyes everywhere.

And the liquor with vinegar sold. I refused to sell such crude products, but the marinated food of the river fish fed was delicious enough to stand up to heaven. While I was stuttering, they bought it all off and paid for it and took it away.

Yes, the price is for the liquor brewing facility, the treasure of the village that has just given up that it can never be rebuilt again, which is sumptuously arranged, even wheat is piled up in large quantities. I glanced around, but when I finally calmed down, it was growing beautifully to the half-destructed building, and I rushed out to make sure... the price was everything in the village. Until just now the doomed villages were lined with splendid buildings, covered and widened by stubborn walls. The village had been transformed into a fortified city.

And the crying and hugging villagers, all those terrible injuries are healing. Everyone pimps and walks to those who were desperate that they had to wait for death... the marks of nightmares after the bad dreams disappeared without a trace, and there was only happiness they had never seen.

And someone said, "That's the disaster of happiness."

As I later found out, the reason why miraculously there were no dead was a passing disaster that hit me by chance because I ran into a flood of demons and it was out of my way. And instead of worn out village liquor, the scourge of happiness gave us a future. Everything... everything about this... was a disaster of happiness.

From then on, he handled things as young as ghosts and taught them how to brew alcohol rigorously and thoroughly. No one complained. He remembered desperately, responding diligently. Everyone worked desperately not to be embarrassed by that scourge, and worked hard to bite the meaning of what everyone had been admired for, and then realized that the villages that were already in place were richer and overflowing with supplies, and when they were done, they became real cities.

So I'll take care of the liquor, and I'll make vinegar -- I don't deserve to make liquor anymore. I didn't take over, I couldn't protect you.

And I want to make - vinegar for telling me that the scourge of happiness is the price of this immense happiness.

You know, I'll never forget the face of disaster when I was making marinades of river fish, it was a failure full of despair, but I delighted the scourge of happiness.

But that can't be a consideration for failure. I really made it with (...) vinegar and I want you to be happy... I can't give anything else back to us, all I can do is make vinegar anymore.

I never thought vinegar, which I hated before as a failure, would be so complex and tasteful, if I changed the way it was made, the taste would change in a thousand ways, and if I spared the hassle, the flavor would go away. Vinegar, which was only made of our failure, is as difficult as alcohol, but it tastes everywhere in response to thoughts and hassles... Since then, I've learned a lot of recipes from the Chamber of Commerce that come to buy it, tried it with a lot of vinegar and learned to cook well.

Now the city is famous for its alcohol and vinegar, and it has a lot of specialty dishes to eat and more to visit - and I will never forget the marinade taste of riverfish I ate then.

And only the black eyes of laughed disaster are the pride of my life, that's all I need anymore, I just want to be rewarded for it.

So make the best vinegar and deliver it to the city - it reaches the mouth of disaster, dreaming only of delicious and making you laugh.

When I said that day, "I can't sell alcohol with vinegar like this as an artisan," I believe the words of disaster that I said, "It's worth it from sour," and I try to be extremely sour and repeatedly concentrate and mature, but the concentrated vinegar over here is half sour! Rumor has it that disaster will buy it all out, but if it's mature, the alchemized pot will melt out... why the hell would this sell? Whoa, sour!!