Chapter 152: Drunk Zigmund

Inside the home. The kitchen was already smelling of the brewing pot of stew, filled with all sorts of ingredients. Sarey wasn't that far from the kitchen, as it was her own doing. The smelly thing that littered the air around the whole home was what Sarey called Whatever Stew. It was a mixture of whatever leftovers she found at home, with the remaining meat that her father had, and vegetables that were on a brink of going stale. It was simple. Take whatever she found in the storage, and shove it into a big pot, and let it simmer for half a day.

Adding some potatoes, cabbage, tomatoes, and all sort of spices to get the most out of this mess, and you have quite possibly a meal that could be for dozen of people. This was enough for today's and tomorrow's lunch for Sarey, Allan, and Zigmund. The boys ate most of it, but not she, nor anyone would complain if it wouldn't enough or not.

“Smells good. What is brewing here?” Allan asked, sniffing the scents of the food in the kitchen. He already smelled it far away, let alone at the source of it in the kitchen.

“Whatever Stew,” Sarey replied, stirring the pot with a long piece of wood. “I haven't made this since you came here, so expect something completely new from the rest of the meals that we had. Whenever I make it, it's different every time so it's always interesting to see how it's gonna taste. Though it's still meat with added vegetables, so it is never too bad.”

“So it's just regular cooking. Understandable.” Allan teased her a little, walking to the pot as if his eyes didn't even matter.

“Hmph!” Sarye grunted, taking it with some displeasure. “Whatever Stew is a tradition! I am sure you will change your mind. Talk when you eat it and then I shall see. It is quite good, and father always eats most of it every time. It is still stew, so take some bread and dip it into it, or eat it as is. I tossed almost two kilos of potatoes inside so I am pretty sure it's going to be a satisfying meal for a couple of days.” Sarey talked with great interest, explaining everything each time Allan tried to figure out what she was cooking.

Sometimes, he was right with his assessment, but most of the time, he was wrong, since he wasn't all that knowledgeable in the art of cooking. Simply put, Allan had always interest somewhere else, and cooking wasn't one of them. Allan tried to figure out everything from the smell alone, leading to guesses, more than anything else.

Of course, he failed quite miserably since there were too many scents mixed together. Getting some singular memory of a meal he knew about from that alone was impossible.

He gave up trying to be right a long time ago, but it was fun to tease Sarey from time to time. It made his life a bit more ordinary, and normal, which made his mind calmer amidst the storming future and present. He will continue doing that since Sarey likes to talk about cooking.

It was those ordinary moments of these days, that made Allan glad they he found by them. Glimpses of regular life that Allan felt from it were much needed. It was a small break in the otherwise, hectic world. The time he woke up in the darkness was the time his whole world changed.

With such moments, Allan felt the light of the day coming through the darkness, making his vision somewhat better, albeit not truly. At least the visual aspect of his mind was calmer, while the physical ways were excuses he told to himself. It was always dark, unchanging, and sometimes even depressing.

Nowadays, be it from the exercises or training that he went with, or the senses that were getting sharpened to unnatural lengths, Allan felt like he would eventually lead a life like a regular human being. Although he was far from that, considering the simple topic of 36's involvement. Allan wasn't even willing to think of it as much as he could. In this stance, the saying – Ignorance was bliss, couldn't be more true.

Sarey and Allan kept eating to their heart's content since this stew was already up for a couple of hours. It wasn't as good as a properly cooked one, but it was enough to have a good meal. They both finished a couple of bowls, with a single piece of bread gone as well.

Allan felt satisfied with this much, and the stew wasn't that bad at all. It was a satisfying experience, and Sarey appeared proud of her creation. The meat wasn't as tender but all vegetables, added with tomatoes which didn't need too long of cooking time, were more than enough. A couple of bowls ended up with a pasta-like substance that left an interesting texture on the tip of the tongue. It was by no means bad as it looked. It was sweet and sour, and the spiciness of spices let the whole meal to the next level. Potatoes left the stomach satisfied for longer, while the stew itself was a nice addition to the bread.

“Hmmm. I surely have not eaten anything like this. I am sorry for making you question your prided and secret dish.” Allan commented, making a small acknowledgment nod. He found his bowl empty, yet his stomach was more than full at the end of the day.

“I am glad that you like this. I will add some water, so we should have more than enough for tomorrow and the day after.”

“That's good. I will look forward to tomorrow much more.”

“Yea… tomorrow…” Sarey mumbled those words, remembering what will even happen the next day.

Allan paused as well, hearing the obvious worry that was on her mind.

“Is there something specific that I need to look for you?” He asked, remembering her worry that she directly asked yesterday. This simple question should be more than enough to get a firm answer from her since she didn't tell him much back then.

“Oh… Allan, I… I don't know.” Sarey shook her head, uncomfortably holding her arms with the other. “I don't want you to be bothered with my useless stuff. Who knows, it could be potentially dangerous within the book. I can't even imagine what it's gonna be like, let alone hope for something else for myself.”

“You are suddenly so considerate. That's not like you at all. Speak, I am all years.” Allan kept asking, not willing to hear her being hesitant like that. Her little lies were clear to him, and there was no need for eyes at all. He could hear her wriggling body and creaking chair. Her posture wasn't that clear, but her voice spoke for itself. After hearing her talk ever since he appeared in her world, Allan was familiar enough to hear the differences.

“I am not really… saying something wrong, you know?” Sarey argued, letting out a deep sight. “Its… It may be wrong for me to ask this, and you should know it.”

“I know. And I also know that I know very little. Calling it questionable is more than fine. That is why I am asking you about what could possibly help you. A tool, some form of treasure, or medicine? I suppose something else? How else could I know if you won't talk about it?”

Sarey strained her face, cringing in an uncomfortable way in her chair. She wanted to be direct, but 36 and his words made her hesitate.

Just before Sarey had a chance to use her courage to speak her mind, the main door to the house, opened. Zigmund appeared in there, walking, but it was more accurate to describe it as staggering. With unsteady steps, he walked to the kitchen.

Noticing the familiar pair sitting by a kitchen table, he wavered forward while sitting frantically at one chair as well. He did not even close the door as he kicked it open.

“F-father?” Sarey asked, surprised and angry that her courage was left out in her heart. She had never seen him like this, and it quickly changed her demeanor to one of bothersome nature. Dealing with her father like this shouldn't be that good. Especially when the last days were less than pleasant with him.

“Yea… I know.” Zigmund mumbled, shaking his head and head in the air. “I am drunk… I know. How not nice of me.. blah blah blah. Call me old-fashioned, but I felt like doing this after a long time.” He mumbled, leaning on the chair and causing the empty bottle to fall to the ground. It shattered, but he could not care less about it.

“Did something happen, mister Zigmund?” Allan asked with worry as well.

“Listen, Allan, since we have…” he hiccuped. “Such a serene moment. Has your father ever got drunk when you were little, or not?”

“I… don't believe so,” Allan answered, sure that it would never happen in his home. His father, Clayton, was always hardworking, and his business was quite important to him. The secondary was a good upbringing of his son, which Allan more than acknowledged.

“What a good lad… that father of yours… Ahhh… Ugh.” Zigmund burped, letting out an unpleasant odor of alcohol. “Even if a world caused the wives to get lost, yet we can all mourn to our bitter ends… What sort of end is there in all of this empty sadness?” Zigmund cried, exaggeratedly shaking his head and letting out forced tears, which eventually turned real. He was drunk but also sane as he could, but this strange truth of mourning in his voice made Sarey a bit uncomfortable. Not in a bad, or good way. She was already in a tight spot with Allan, and with Zigmund's additional appearance, she would rather disappear from the spot, letting some steam somewhere else.

Sarey stared at her father in doubt and shock. It was clear that some people changed with alcohol to some degree. She saw something like that many times in the restaurant because there was also a good bar that Pedro was a master of. She never expected to see her own father do the same as some miserable people.

Weeping like a baby, Zimgund stopped in a bit, wiping his face with his sleeve that wasn't even that clean. “I just visited Pedro… They, or he made such nice salons over there… I truly believe I made the best decision of my life when I left my restaurant to Pedro, of all people… hick!” He hiccuped again, letting more words out afterward. “I respect him. Of course. Why shouldn't I? Then, I made the mistake of dealing with unnecessary business and met a terrifying woman who let me relive nightmarish days that I never thought would happen. It was a such terrible day… So terrific.”

He kept mumbling, leaving Sarey and Allan lost in what to do with him. Especially Allan was a bit lost. He met uncountable situations like this in the bar of mister Thomas, but they appeared like foggy and old memories by now.

“Ahhh… Nevermind. What happened, already happened.” Zigmund sighted, smelling something nice in the air. “This smells nice… mind if I will grab some as well? I need to sober up, or I will regret it. Oh, unless I already do, but I don't know about it… See, don't drink… Ever. Its… Whatever. Oh! Whatever Stew? Nice.” He blubbered some nonsense, almost falling from his chair, and his journey to the pot of Whatever Stew. Nearly shaking the pot from the flame, and letting it out to the ground, his actions were more than enough for Sarey to change her mind.

“S-stop father. Stop being like this.” She grunted, standing up from her chair. ”I will give you a bowl to sober up, as well as a liter of water. I swear, I would never think of you as a drinker… Try to get some sanity within yourself. Especially for Allan's sake.” Sarey stated the truth that traveled to Zigmund's heart. This left a couple of tears down his cheek, but who knew if they were aimed at the upcoming bowl, or at Sarey's words.

“Good daughter… I am sorry. So sorry. I am just sniffing out the nice smell of roasted vegetables… I am jsut a bit tipsy, that is all. I will get over this soon. I swear.” he argued, forcefully steading his posture and straightening his back. It only led to a headache, as well as a big twist in his mind. When one was drunk, it was never to act too fast. “But hey… This thing reminds me of an absolutely hilarious fact that I've learned a long time ago… I will tell it to you even though you don't want to hear about it. Heheh! It's so funny to me. Did you… did you know that Immortals can't get drunk? That is so funny to me. HHEHEHHHEHAAA.” Zigmund wheezed, resting and grabbing a nearby chair so he didn't fall to the ground with his wild laughter.

Sarey sighed, walking around him to take the stew and water. “How nice, father. Maybe this bottle, or bowl will make you an Immortal so I won't ever see you like this.” Sarey said, pushing a full bowl of stew, with some bread half inserted in the stew close to his face. It was still hot and steam rose from it, leaving Zigmund's face steamy and hot.

Zigmund steadied his strange position, picking up a spoon to try from the bowl. While he was trying that, he successfully got to the table again, sitting on the chair without destroying anything by some miracle.

“Hot. Hot. Damnation! This is a Whatever Stew! I knew it from the moment I smelt it.” Zigmund kept talking even though he was putting one spoonful of the stew down his throat. The other hand was preoccupied with the remaining bread, which left Sarey speechless. She remained standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding water. Going back to her spot on the table, she left the bottle close to Zigmund's spot.

“Why can't Immortals get drunk?” Allan suddenly asked, speaking after being silent for a good while.

Zigmund heard his question and almost choked himself over a piece of potato. Sarey hurried to the rescue, slapping his back multiple times to let him catch a breath.

“Ahhhh! That almost killed me! What a good stew. This is a brand new thing, isn't it?” Zimgund let the potato go, laughing afterward.

“My god, father… You make this… Ugh. Whatever.” Sarey sighed for God knows home many times. “Yeah. Yeah. I shouldn't be worried about this, but I can't. Not now. What happened to you, to be like this? Pedro wouldn't serve you like this, so he must not be involved in this.” Sarey straight up said to his face.

Zigmund took a close look at Sarey, while still placing one spoon of stew after another into his mouth. With such speed and motion, he found the bowl to be empty in a very short time.

No longer protected by the stew, he leaned on his chair, waiting to be sober. Meals usually helped with such problems, and this stew would help. While he was at it, he also grabbed the bottle, gulping it down in a matter of 2 seconds.

“D-did you asked something, Allan?” Zigmund tried to change directions, ignoring the piercing gaze that Sarey gave him. Involving the only person who could help him was the best choice he could ask for.

“H-how come immortals can't get drunk?” Allan asked again, not noticing that the stare changed directions. Now, Sarey stared at him, but not as he noticed it.

“Oh, that? How funny, isn't it? It is because their bodies are not like like ours. The alcohol won't have enough time to come into any effect. Their expenditure of energy, food, or whatever goes inside their body is nothing normal. It could be their stomach, their blood, and especially the form of Energy could be a reason why they can't get drunk. Of course, it's proportional to how powerful Immortal is… I still heard that some beginner Immortals can get drunk with a vast quantity of strong alcohol, but low-quality one could have little effects on them.” Zigmund said with great importance, leaving Sarey a bit speechless by how much he knew about it.

“Where did you learn that, father? I don't really believe it. Have you ever met such an Immortal in question?” Sarey asked, closely standing behind his chair.

“Well, I've had plenty of chances to find out about lots of things in my life. That is one of them.” Zigmund found a good excuse, leaving things ambiguous as always.

“If that is the case, I am looking forward to the breakfast tomorrow where you will talk about such things with an open mind and soberness. Am I right, father?” Sarye walked back to her spot, clearly annoyed by Zigmunds' choices.

“Oh. This one hurts… What an unlucky day. I swear it is…” Zigmund lamented his fate, gulping down another water that he managed to get by himself. Getting sober was his next task, and he can't wait for it. He could only cruse in his mind, as it was his problem for coming home in such a state. No one was to blame but himself.

“Pedro… you wolf in sheep's skin. I bet this was intentional on your part to get me drunk after giving me those extravagant drinks. Oh, I will remember this favor. Urgh… I don't even remember what we were even talking about. Just that customer of his and then… Whatever. Such a waste of thinking.” Zigmund sighed out loud and almost let out some food which was new to his stomach.

“I am leaving…” He stated, hurrying to the bathroom while almost falling over the chair. He disappeared as suddenly as he appeared.

“What was that about?” Sarey asked Allan.

“I think he had a tough day with whatever he chose to do today. Though, this drunkness has no excuses. For him to be like that, he must have drunk a lot.” Allan guessed.

“Could be that, or the things that happened with the Alliance?” Sarey gave out her own guess as well.

“I don't think it is that good to get involved with his problems that are better untouched. I bet he has a good reason to be like that.” Allan reasoned with Sarey, yet she was having none of it. He already told her this sort of sentence before, it was always the same.

“I am not touching anything, Allan. Listening and knowing more about him is all there is to it. While I agree about most of what you said, he is still my father. Of course, I will get involved if it's something dangerous, or if it involves him in any way. It's common sense to acknowledge him, and I will do it whether he hates it or doesn't want it.”

Allan was surprised by the sudden care within her words and was left without answers or questions.

Sarey told her honest view, leaving her surprised by her vocalness over this matter. “Alright, no need to worry about the words of my drunken father. Let me clean the kitchen and we shall see what will happen next.”

“I don't think he will be willing to do spars in such a condition.” Allan didn't argue and rather said what Sarey wanted to voice.

“That means more reasons to beat him up!” Sarey cheered.