There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

Mr. Dart shook his head. “How could that be? At most, he’s gone from buying wine to drinking it himself. I suspect what’s motivating him to work so hard isn’t the financial crisis at all, but rather that his wine inventory is running out…”

What an ugly sight! I can't become someone like that (?ω?).

I unconsciously drew circles on the plate with my spoon, "Just for the sake of satisfying my appetite, I actually went to this extent..."

Mr. Dart straightened his collar and pointed at the television, saying, "That's not entirely true. He also seems to have promised to buy a refrigerator for the house, and if he doesn't, Mana plans to bury him alive."

Boss, what's with that smug smile on your face?

Why do all the unmarried men in this small town live such carefree lives? Are old bachelors the hope for humanity's future...?

Isn't that old popsicle from the experiment in Vault 111 the ultimate form of humanity?

"Boss, if I also want to buy some furniture and appliances, do you have any connections?"

For the ranch's industry to develop, the quality of life also needs to be improved. Now that the power grid has been laid, household appliances and such also need to be upgraded.

Let's start with ourselves in the fight against poverty.

"There are advertising phone numbers on TV, you can just call them yourself."

Mr. Dart took away my empty plate, pointed to the old-fashioned telephone on the table, and turned to go into the kitchen to wash the pots and pans.

I hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at Karen sitting next to me...

Why are you looking at me?

Karen gripped her collar warily.

"Um... how about we make a deal? Can I get an advance on some of my money to buy some home appliances?"

My tone was exactly like that of a poor husband who had tried every possible way to buy the new Sony PS5 router.

Karen rested her hands on the bar table and put one foot on the crossbar of my chair.

"What do you want to buy? I won't agree to anything too expensive."

"..."

As expected, the one who owes the money is the boss. Now that she has the money, I have to beg and plead to spend even a little. Once I get the money back, I'll buy two bowls of soy milk for breakfast every time; I'll drink one and throw the other away…

I stared blankly at the television playing on screen. "I also want to buy a television for my home."

Karen stood up, walked past me, and went straight behind the bar. She addressed Mr. Dart, the owner of the bar, in the kitchen, "Boss, where are the drinks kept?"

Dart's voice came through the curtain, sounding somewhat hollow.

"Karen, your father told you not to drink alcohol."

Karen retorted, "A small drink after dinner is fine, why does my father need to restrict such a small thing?"

Mr. Dart had probably already heard the rummaging around and could only say helplessly, "Please don't mess up the goods I've arranged—they're on the second shelf to the right in front."

...Where did you get this Peninsula Iron Box from?

Boss, you only know she was rummaging through things, but you probably don't know that she had already expertly taken out the wine and even poured me a glass too.

"How come you're so skilled at this?!"

I casually made a comment and then took the red wine from her hand.

Even without deliberate training, I significantly increased my alcohol tolerance in the wilderness. High-proof tequila there was not only a part of entertainment but also an important source of spiritual nourishment in the face of this desolate world.

For example, at this point, when you turn around and face a low-alcohol wine, you no longer feel any pressure.

"Sir, would you like to talk about how you came up with the idea of ​​buying a television?"

Karen took the seat that originally belonged to Boss Dart and imitated his concern for me.

"Karen, your habits are a bit strange... It's already puzzling that Poppy likes to work as a sales assistant, why would you want to be a bar owner?"

Karen pulled a rubber band from her pocket and tied her hair into a neat single ponytail. She even deliberately drooped her slightly upturned almond-shaped eyes, perfectly cosplaying Boss Dart's poker face.

"When I was a child, I always dreamed of opening a tavern! Being able to talk to all sorts of customers here every day, experience the colorful moments of life, and have fleeting encounters with different travelers, while maintaining a carefree attitude, wouldn't that be a very romantic thing?"

Karen's eyes sparkled as she imagined that scene, seemingly filled with longing for life.

So she couldn't wait to experience this atmosphere and try to imitate Boss Dart's usual work, but on the spotless desk, she couldn't find a place to start...

So she decided to play it safe—and started wiping the glasses.

It must be said that this gesture, combined with her young and beautiful face, was much more pleasing to the eye than Mr. Dart's poker face. But in my eyes, however, I still saw a little girl who had secretly tried on her mother's high heels.

"Young lady, you are too naive."

I picked up the glass, drank the red liquid inside in one gulp, and savored the slightly sour and delicate aroma that wafted through my mouth until my entire nasal cavity was filled with the scent of grapes before I spoke.

"Hey... what's the difference between your idea and a bohemian's dream of opening a bed and breakfast? You only think about the romance during the day and the glitz and glamour at night. Why don't you think about the pressure of running a bar, such as rent, utilities, food, customers, and employee salaries?"

Karen paused in wiping the cup, then protested, "I can use my house, and I can manage the staff all by myself! There aren't that many difficulties!"

But I shook my head slightly: "It is indeed cheaper to run a business by one person, but can you be as down-to-earth and hardworking as Lin? Can you be as energetic as Boss Dart, staying up all night and carrying the drunkards who have passed out on the ground back home?"

Although Lin's daily work consists of washing clothes and mopping the floor, these tasks actually take up most of her time, leaving her only able to study at night.

If running a tavern were really that easy, Lin should be chatting and laughing with us on an afternoon like this when there are no customers. How come we can't even see a soul in sight?

"And look at how adept Mr. Dart is at navigating social situations. Is he patient enough with his customers? But the financial pressure he's under has turned his hair gray. Actually, the most reasonable choice would be to do what your father did: turn his own house into a general store, selling everyday items and making a profit from the price difference!"

Karen slammed her glass down on the table, braced her hands on the bar counter, and said with a disgruntled look, "It's all about making money... just squeeze the customers dry! Like Mr. Dart did!"

I said with a dark expression, "That's a blatant rip-off! Don't slander Boss Dart so casually!"

Our argument was overheard by Mr. Dart, who was probably afraid we'd break the bar table—that oak table could very well be the trigger that would turn his annual financial statements from profit to disastrous loss.

"What's the point of you discussing this..."

The owner of the kitchen, Mr. Dart, spoke first, followed by footsteps as he lifted the curtain and came out.

Karen, thoroughly refuted by me, still wanted to drag Boss Dart into criticizing my defeatist tendencies, so she said, "Boss, Marcus has been slandering your tavern! I think he just looks down on... Hey! Boss, what's wrong? Why do you look so pale!"

As Karen exclaimed, I then noticed that Mr. Dart, who was in the kitchen, had his face shrouded in black mist. He not only looked like he had a dark aura, but it was as if a death star was shining down on him!

Mr. Dart glanced at me dejectedly, then said to Karen, "I think Marcus is right... Karen... Now that he's mentioned it, I've realized so many problems—opening this shop was such an unwise choice, absolutely foolish..."

Then this middle-aged man, who looked as if he had aged ten years, slowly walked up to the second floor in a posture that suggested he had been bent over by life, and disappeared around the corner.

I:"……"

Karen: "..."

I whispered, "Karen, I've already taken Dart to a bad state. If you press your advantage, you can probably buy this tavern at a rock-bottom price. What do you say, want to consider it?"

Karen glared at me fiercely. "Shut up, and don't bring this up again! Now it's your turn to tell me why you bought a TV!"

I grabbed the wine bottle myself, poured half a glass, and said with a face full of envy, "Everyone has one, and I wish I had one too!"

I started counting on my fingers.

"First of all, the weather programs on TV can tell me how to arrange farm work, the news programs can help me keep up with the world, and I can watch some soap operas to pass the time when I'm stuck at home on the night. Most importantly, those commercials... I never thought commercials were so cute before. They sell all the things I need!"

I looked up and stared at Karen with hopeful eyes until she couldn't bear to meet my gaze and quickly looked away.

"Look, Suneo, Shizuka, and Gian all have them! Everyone has them, so I want them too, Kallen, A-Meng!"

Karen wrapped her arms around my neck and instantly entered a rear-naked choke position. "Don't use that weird name!"

"Let go! Let go of Misae! I can almost see a bald god beckoning to me!"

After the two of them playfully wrestled for a while (meaning I was the one being hit), Karen finally stated her conditions.

I watched as she took out two more bottles of red wine from the cupboard, uncorked them, and poured them into a decanter with a flourish, saying to me with great gusto.

"I'll talk after you beat me in the drinking game!"

I slammed my hand on the table and stood up. "What kind of boss personally goes on drinking contests with others?! What kind of childhood dream is that?! You're just craving alcohol!"

As everyone knows, I've undergone a long period of alcohol testing on the wastelands of a remote planet; high-proof tequila is practically mouthwash to me. Furthermore, I possess the golden "Bear Grylls" characteristic—a metabolic rate unmatched by ordinary people.

In summary, I held an absolute advantage in drinking, and in this drinking contest, without a doubt...

They gradually fell into a disadvantageous position!

"..."

Director, this script is wrong! Do you want to take another look at it? How could it be written like this?!

...What? That's how it's written in the script?

I don't care! I'm going to act like a diva! I demand a script change! Otherwise, I'm not leaving the set!

Director, please don't go! I'm confident that my three fans can bring considerable profits to this film. I hope you won't be ungrateful!

"Snapped".

I was holding onto something, and then it felt like I was punched. After that, I lost consciousness and fell into a deep dream.

…………

Everything in my dreams is chaotic and confused, making it impossible for me to discern my own location. At its worst, I feel like a cloud of black smoke rising high in the sky, sometimes expanding and shrinking, sometimes being blown away by the wind, my body entering a state of amorphous, cottony swelling.

When I opened my eyes, I found that it was almost dark outside. I was lying on the cold table, with one hand supporting my head, which was so numb that I could hardly feel anything.

And across from me was Lin, who had her hair in braids.

Her large eyes blinked less than five centimeters away from me, her long eyelashes and breath were crystal clear, and the large bow tied in her braid reminded me of a tornado in Texas, instead of a butterfly in Brazil…

Storm, sea, seasickness...

Thinking about it like that makes my head spin even more!

I struggled to sit up, my head still feeling a little unreal, but Lin patted my back with concern, helping me regain my composure.

"Marcus, you're finally awake!"

I managed to utter, "Water...give me some water...where am I..."

Lin quickly brought me a glass of water and held it to my lips.

It was still lukewarm water, just the right temperature, and I almost cried.

"Drink slowly, it's okay... Hey, Marcus, why are you crying? Are you feeling bad?"

Lin stayed by my side with concern, saying, "It's alright. Dr. Dort has already come to see you. These are symptoms of mild alcohol poisoning. You'll recover after enough rest."

"I'm fine... don't worry..."

Lin stepped forward and helped me stand up, her slender frame supporting my arm. "Hmm, the doctor said you're recovering quickly, but it's best to move around a bit to speed up your metabolism. Do you want to stand up and walk around a bit?"