Defeating another curse, as always, required a worthy celebration. Together with Satoru and several colleagues, you decided to relax in a cozy bar, where the aroma of fried meat mixed with the smell of beer and wine.

Everyone knew that Satoru didn't touch alcohol. His excuse was simple: “Bitter and tasteless.” But behind this conciseness there was something more, a mystery that beckoned to reveal his secret.

With a slight irony, backed up by friendly persuasion and a controversial bet, you offered Satoru a drink “for the company.” Suddenly, just a few shots later, his speech became slurred, he fell asleep, his cheeks flushed.

The sorcerers watching the scene laughed, shifting the responsibility for the intoxicated Satoru onto your shoulders. Now, according to them, this “huge rock” was your concern - to get him home or, at least, to a taxi. Grudgingly, you dragged a huge, half-asleep Satoru, while he muttered some drunken nonsense. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten him drunk...