I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!-Chapter 77: If I Go Down, You’re Coming With Me

The first night in the new house, the two brothers hugged and rolled around on the warm heated bed, their fur crackling with static electricity as it rubbed together, making them look like two fluffy porcupines.

The next morning, Eric woke up with a wicked thought.

[An eye for an eye]. He had gotten drunk several times already; this time, it was the others’ turn to get a taste of it.

He pulled out his distillation set and began to brew the first batch of white liquor from sorghum. As he worked, he thought that although life was hard now, it was also truly interesting.

The temperature in the pot gradually rose, and the fragrant aroma of alcohol filled the air. Drip, drip.

The first clear drop of liquor fell into the vat. Soon, the alcohol was flowing out in a stream like water from a faucet.

Eric stood beside it, taking deep breaths, already feeling lightheaded without having a single drink. He thought hazily, [This smell... if I were driving right now, I’d definitely fail a breathalyzer test.]

His head was spinning, and he quickly took a few steps back. High-proof white liquor was truly potent; just smelling it was almost too much for someone with his low tolerance.

He thought to himself, this body was even weaker than his in the modern era. Back then, he could at least handle a few beers; now, a little bit of fermented rice wine was enough to get him drunk.

He stood at a safe distance, just far enough not to be dizzied by the alcohol fumes, while still being able to keep an eye on the vats of liquor. The longer he distilled, the more intense the aroma of alcohol in the air became, until he finally had to climb onto the roof to sit.

Three large vats of liquor had been distilled. The liquid was as clear as amber, shimmering under the sunlight.

It was a beautiful sight to behold. Not just in this world, but even in the modern era, this would be considered a top-grade fine liquor—at the very least, it was a pure spirit distilled from grain, with no added industrial alcohol or additives.

Eric sat on the peak of the roof, his legs dangling. Luckily, Leo had gone out to play early in the morning; otherwise, he would have another little drunkard on his hands by now.

As he was idly gazing at the scenery, he saw a few black dots appear in the distance. Looking closer, he saw it was Luban and a few other Dwarves heading his way, their noses sniffing the air incessantly. They had undoubtedly been lured over by the smell of alcohol.

"Luban, everyone, come on in. The door’s unlocked."

Only then did Luban notice him, and he quickly pushed the gate open and entered the yard. In the middle of the yard stood the giant distillation set, from which the distinct, rich aroma of alcohol emanated. The smell made the Dwarves’ mouths water, and they swallowed hard.

"Eric, so you built this thing to make liquor? This smell is really something else!"

Knowing they were dying for a taste, Eric jumped down and got a cup for each of them. He poured only a small spoonful for each person. It wasn’t that he was being stingy, but with this kind of strong liquor and the Dwarves’ habit of drinking it like water, he was afraid they would down it in one gulp and pass out.

The Dwarves didn’t have time to complain about the small amount; just looking at the crystal-clear, sediment-free liquor in their cups told them this was top-shelf stuff. They took a small sip, then all started coughing violently.

"Good heavens, what kind of liquor burns your throat like this!"

Luban’s face was flushed red. After getting used to it, he took another sip.

"Haha, now this is the kind of liquor for us Dwarves to drink! Delicious!"

"That’s right!" a red-bearded Dwarf named Bruno also shouted: "After drinking this, all other liquors taste like plain water!"

As the strong liquor entered their systems, a burning sensation spread throughout their bodies, followed by a pleasant, comforting warmth. Luban closed his eyes in enjoyment and said:

"If you took this liquor to the human world, people would be fighting to buy it for a hundred gold coins a glass."

Eric’s eyes lit up. It seemed this stuff was even more valuable than the berry wine. Knowledge was indeed money: "In books, there are golden houses." the ancients weren’t wrong!

Seeing that the Dwarves had gotten used to the liquor’s strength, he was about to pour them more. But to his surprise, they quickly covered their cups.

"No, no, this liquor is too strong. If we drink a full cup, we probably won’t see the sun today."

Eric grinned from ear to ear: "I’m having a housewarming party tonight. You can just drink slowly for now, and we’ll celebrate more tonight." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

He replaced the mash in the pot with a new batch and continued distilling. He vaguely remembered that good liquor had to be distilled three times; he decided he would experiment with that later.

"Is this liquor made from sorghum?"

Seeing the Dwarves’ deep regret for having previously refused to trade for sorghum, Eric just smiled. In his hometown, besides making liquor, sorghum could only be used to make brooms. But when it came to grain liquor, sorghum was king.

The smell of alcohol attracted even more Dwarves. Eric decided to start the party early, sharing a little of the new liquor with everyone as a way to share his joy.

The Dwarves happily ran home to get containers, not forgetting to bring him gifts in return. Some gave him grain, others gave him beautiful ore stones. Soon, a pile of goods had accumulated beside Eric.

As evening approached, Leo came home with a group of little kids. Having had delicious food and fun the day before, they had returned today as guests.

Eric immediately assigned tasks to the whole group. Some were sent to invite everyone to the housewarming party that night, while others helped him move the vats of white liquor to the communal kitchen.

This time, he would show them. They kept bullying him for his low alcohol tolerance; today, he would get the whole village so drunk they wouldn’t know their way home! With this wicked plan in mind, Eric began preparing the food for the evening.

He used up all the remaining flour, mixed it with mashed tofu, added eggs, onions, garlic, spices, and a little animal fat, then formed the mixture into patties and fried them until golden brown.

His grandmother used to make each patty perfectly round, but in his hands, they turned into some unidentifiable shape. Well, whatever, as long as they were edible.

The hot, crispy, and fragrant tofu patties immediately won over the children.

After eating the braised rabbit feet yesterday, Eric was still craving the chewy, springy texture of tendons. There were still many beast trotters at home, so he took them out, planning to make stewed trotters.

But these trotters were as hard as rock. He tried chopping them with his fish-scaling knife, but only managed to chip the blade.

Seeing this, Luban went home and brought him a large cleaver, grumbling about why the Snow Wolves used such tiny little knives. He looked at the broken fish-scaling knife with a sense of satisfaction, pleased that there was finally a chance for a blacksmith to show his skills.