A few days later.
Holding his fully-automated, self-cleaning, cooking, seasoning, and heat-preserving cup in his hand, Orsaga asked with a hint of pride as he glanced at the curious Golarial:
"Want a sip?"
After thinking it over, Golarial declined. "I'll pass. I have a feeling whatever you're drinking is… weird."
Orsaga's taste was notoriously strange—there were things he liked that she just couldn't stomach.
Unbothered by her distaste, Orsaga waved her off with a flourish:
"Don't underestimate it. This is a special magical device I crafted myself. It not only contains an independent space, but is also linked to my portable dimension as a backup storage area. It can automatically brew soup, ferment alcohol, make juice, concoct potions—and each of those functions operates without interfering with the others.
So far, I've programmed it with 4,875,741 different flavor profiles. As long as you have the ingredients, it can make virtually anything you want to drink."
"..."
After hearing his explanation, Golarial stayed silent for a moment, then said slowly, "That thing might have some amazing functions, but coming from you, it somehow feels… tacky. Like a magical lunchbox."
In her opinion, even just the potion-making capability alone was enough to qualify this item as a divine artifact in some worlds—something that could trigger chaos and bloodshed.
But in Orsaga's hands, its primary use seemed to be cooking soup and satisfying his appetite, completely downgrading its grandeur.
And Orsaga? He looked genuinely confused at her reaction and asked:
"Isn't it basically an automatic lunchbox?"
To him, potion-making was barely worth mentioning. He only used the cup for stewing soups, brewing drinks, and making juice. As for the potion functionality—he had just added that in on a whim after seeing he still had space to carve a few more runes.
Aside from storing a few emergency-use potions, he pretty much ignored that entire feature.
Seeing his reaction, Golarial was at a loss for words.
Her gaze landed on the ten rings on his fingers and the mug in his hand, filled with pure sympathy.
Those ten rings were rare energy reserves that also provided resistance against suppression from foreign realms. In the Abyss, gear like that was more valuable than most divine artifacts—yet Orsaga was using them as brass knuckles to punch people.
As for that mug—it could endlessly produce potions and was basically a wealth generator that many factions would kill to have as part of their core foundation. And yet, here it was… being used as a glorified magical thermos.
If there was ever a definition of "squandering priceless treasures," this was it.
Even most Archdemons wouldn't be this reckless.
Still, despite all her complaints, after hearing Orsaga's description, Golarial curiously picked the item up for a closer look.
It was made of a metal-like material, etched with bizarre and complex patterns.
Its shape could shift at will—transforming into a wine glass or a thermos cup depending on the user's preference.
As long as it stayed within size limits, it could take on virtually any form.
Orsaga even granted Golarial limited user permissions.
Without that, any liquid it dispensed would've been no different from poison to her.
Thanks to those permissions, the moment she picked up Eternal Agony, she was instantly able to sense various bits of information embedded in the artifact.
It provided detailed listings of available ingredients, the flavors they could create, estimated brewing times, and the effects of the resulting drinks.
There were even images, written descriptions, and a rotating list of daily recommendations.
Even a quick glance made Golarial feel dizzy with options.
She couldn't help but feel a bit impressed.
She hadn't expected Orsaga to put so much work into developing such a fully-featured tool.
Little did she know—just to spare her sensibilities, Orsaga had already hidden away most of the… less appropriate recipes.
Like his current favorite: "Spirit Family Stew."
He had only left behind a few options that aligned more with elven tastes.
After browsing the list, Golarial selected a special fruit juice blend from another plane.
Even Orsaga hadn't tried this one before—the recipe had been casually lifted from the database of the Strategic Intelligence Collection Department.
Which made Golarial the very first to sample it.
The moment the juice touched her lips, her expression tightened slightly, her face full of conflicted emotions.
She couldn't even tell if it tasted good or bad—just that the flavor was extremely complex.
Alien tastebuds and elven ones clearly didn't sync up well.
So she picked out another fruit juice instead.
This time, she nodded in satisfaction.
Seeing her reaction, Orsaga chuckled and said offhandedly, "I also added a search function. Once you know what kind of taste you prefer, you can have it automatically find similar options for you."
Taking his advice, Golarial immediately began testing the feature.
Ten minutes later.
Having tasted dozens of juices, thoroughly satisfied, Golarial handed Eternal Agony back to Orsaga. Then, almost casually, she remarked:
"Some of those juices really are amazing. But… using something this powerful just to make drinks still feels like a waste. Maybe you could sell potions with it in exchange for things you actually need—like soul crystals?"
Hearing that, Orsaga glanced at her and calmly shook his head. Then he pointed toward the vast and eclectic cityscape outside their room and explained:
"No need. This city has existed for billions of years. Over such a long span, every major outlet for rare consumables has long since been monopolized. Even those shops that look humble have powerful backers behind them. So even if I did want to sell potions, without someone to rely on, I'd be limited to petty side-businesses."
"Not only is the profit negligible, it would also draw all kinds of unnecessary trouble. I'm not interested in wasting time playing their boring games. If I've got the energy, I'd rather put it toward something else."
After hearing his explanation, Golarial nodded and sighed.
"I see… So even here in the Abyss, complex social entanglements are impossible to avoid."
But Orsaga just laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist:
"No matter where you are, once a population reaches a certain size, cliques and power blocs will always form. And lone wolves will always get pushed aside. The only difference is how obvious it is. In the Abyss, material wealth and social ties are just side features. Power is the only thing that truly determines your fate. Unlike many other races, where the upper classes monopolize power and leave the lower classes with no way to rise, we demons evolve through slaughter."
"Potions, resources, minerals—those are just catalysts. Our innate drive to kill and evolve means that as long as we keep killing, we keep growing stronger. That's also why so many demons allow foreign races to enter the Abyss and harvest resources however they want. Because to us, those outsiders—coming all this way for profit—are the profit."
____
T/N:
Hello everyone! My Patreon is just $3 — a perfect opportunity to access 80+ advanced chapters and support the translation.
🔗 patreon.com/user?u=79514336
Or simply search Translator-Sama on Patreon