"The alcohol here isn't cheap." Though he said that, the man who had just started to get up sat back down.
Seeing there was no excitement to watch, the nearby men got up and left, leaving space for the two of them.
"How much alcohol is left?" Su Huan turned to ask the old man behind the counter.
"As an outsider, you can only buy three cups." The stout man answered Su Huan's question for him, then gestured with his hand at the glass in front of him, "Just about this much."
The glass looked large, but it was thick, holding only about three hundred milliliters, meaning he could buy at most three cups.
Alcohol wasn't an irreplaceable resource, but post-apocalyptic settlements wouldn't waste a lot of food to brew it. For most settlements, it's an expensive commodity, so a limit was inevitable. But for a train conductor, just three cups wouldn't be a limitation.
With a casual gesture, Qu Hang, hiding in the shadows, had already instructed two men to go back and fetch some alcohol.
