Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: 9: Pink Bubbles Bubbling in My Heart -3
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"…Hoo."
I'd barely made it back to the surface, but my face was still burning.
No matter how urgent it had been, that wasn't something to say in my right mind.
'Gotta apologize to Ophelia later.'
I'd done something inexcusable.
I could already picture the rumors spreading through the Disciplinary Committee.
Something like, "Ophelia was getting all lovey-dovey with some weird guy during a mission."
If that got around, Ophelia might actually kill me.
'…'
I shook my head to clear thoughts of the future. Worrying could wait.
First things first: satisfy the Director.
I headed toward the cafe, steps quickening.
It was later than I'd thought.
I'd entered the underground market around five, but now it was already three in the morning.
'Feed 'em quick and send 'em packing.'
The cafe lights were on. They were here. I stepped inside—and a loud scream hit my ears.
"Uwaaaaaah!!!"
It was Agnes's shriek.
"Agnes!"
My body moved on instinct, hand grabbing the doorknob.
Why was she still here? Questions flashed, but—
'No way those guys!'
The shadowy figures might have betrayed us. If they were holding Agnes hostage to demand free bubble tea...
"Don't move! You bubble tea bandits!"
Bam!
I kicked the door open, revealing the scene inside.
"Y-You thieves! Even if you break in at this hour, we're broke—no money here!"
Agnes in pajamas, saying something that oddly stung, and—
"Calm down. We were invited by the owner."
"Yeah. We're just customers."
—the two of them, looking flustered.
Agnes, clearly intent on chasing them out, started swinging her broom wildly.
"Uwaaaaaah!! Don't lie! Who drinks bubble tea at three in the morning?!"
…She had a point.
'No, that's not the issue.'
I stepped forward to calm her.
"Easy, Agnes."
"Ah, uh. Ethan?"
"Yeah. These two are legit customers. Night just ran late."
"Phew… For real?"
"Told you."
"They're suspicious! Look at them!"
That had some weight too.
If I were alone in a dark classroom and two shady guys showed up, I'd freak too.
The real problem, though...
"So, Agnes."
"Yeah?"
"Why are you here? Shift's long over."
Why was she still around?
In pajamas, no less.
Sure enough, a sleeping bag on the floor.
"You slept here?!"
"W-Well..."
"No yelling. Just tell me."
"Y-Yeah! My house got wrecked!"
Her house wrecked?
"Checked yesterday—sea monsters trashed it. Barely grabbed my stuff..."
"…."
"Nothing when I left… Sea wind's freezing… Library? Melissa keeps trying to study me… So..."
The mood sobered.
"…Agnes."
"Yeah?"
"Drink some tea if you're cold at night."
"For real!?"
"Yeah."
"Always just lukewarm water… Thanks, Ethan! I'll do anything!"
I'll take the sentiment.
I told her that, then eyed the two behind.
They were sniffling, staring at Agnes like they might cry.
"Poor thing."
"Yeah… So pitiful."
Earning pity from the shadows. Impressive? Or just sad?
"Alright, let's wrap this up quick. She needs sleep."
"Very well."
"Agreed."
"Huh?"
Leaving confused Agnes, I started on the pearls.
Two powders from my bag.
Sneaking mysterious powders at night? Suspicious as hell. I chuckled and got to work.
'White powder first.'
This white powder was the pearl's core.
'Starch extract.'
Instead of cassava, devs used this—dried starch from famine crops.
Dissolve in boiling water, chill in the Ice Golem Box: jelly-like texture.
Before white powder, add 'black sugar' for sweetness and color.
Even plain sugar's pricey; black sugar? Oof.
'Won't sell in bulk.'
Limited daily? Reservations? Giveaway?
'…Done.'
Pearls complete amid my musing.
I sliced the big blob into squares.
Hand-cut, not round like Healing Academy's.
"Huh?"
"What, Agnes? Ask away. You handle customer questions."
"No, uh, lots of black sugar left."
"Lots?"
"Isn't there?"
"Not at all."
I was making brown sugar bubble tea.
'More black sugar.'
Simmer into syrup, pour over milk, add pearls...
Jackpot! A new recipe has been developed!
Brown Sugar Bubble Tea – Milk with black syrup and pearls for extra sweetness and chew. Brush your teeth after.
'Developed.'
New in 2, probably. Pops when you invent off-recipe stuff.
Bubble tea existed, but not brown sugar variant.
Developing a new recipe greatly increases your Cooking skill level!
'Nice.'
I grinned, handing the brown sugar bubble tea to the Director.
"This?"
"Brown sugar bubble tea."
"Brown sugar what?"
"Made with black sugar as the star. Try it."
"Ooh..."
"Brush after."
"Got it."
The Director stared, then—
Slid his mask up, revealing his lower face.
Sleek jawline, pinkish lips. Striking.
"…Don't stare."
"Sorry."
He nodded at my apology.
Sucked up pearl and drink through the fat straw.
"…Wow!"
Exclaimed in awe.
"Amazing! Black sugar and milk taste like this!"
"Pearls okay?"
"Pearls are pearls!"
Good enough.
Not standout, but not bad.
Compared to continent pros, this was rushed anyway.
Pretty great, all told.
"Really good."
Minutes later, drink slurped dry, cup bottom bare.
"…Um… Hey."
"No."
"Didn't say anything?"
"Know how much sugar's in bubble tea? One's your limit. Be satisfied."
"…Fine. Too much of a good thing's poison."
"Thanks for the meal." He set a coin pouch on the table.
I peeked inside and gawked.
"Too much."
"Take it. For the treat."
"No need. Just did my job."
"C'mon, you debt-ridden guy."
Director's words.
No take-backs, seemed.
Fine. My way then.
"Hold on."
"Hm?"
"Need money, debts and all. But no gouging."
I stuffed a pile of cookies—worth the excess—into his hands.
"This?"
"Homemade cookies. Variety pack for snacks."
"…You're kind. Do the kids like that about you?"
"Dunno."
Studies hearts all he wants, but who knows people?
What I do...
"Just what I think is right."
"…Hm."
"What?"
"Nah. You think and talk like an old soul. Reminds me of someone."
"Yeah?"
He nodded.
Pocketed cookies, hesitated long, then asked again.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"If your choice hurts you bad. What then?"
"Fatalism?"
"No. Just your thoughts."
No deep thought needed.
I'd lived it pre-possession.
"Endless reports, monthly projects."
"Huh?"
"Prof slaves. Do good? Our slaves. Do bad? Their slaves."
Dumbass who crawled into grad school right here.
Days writhing in agony.
Hours endured in pain.
Hellish days.
Endless overwork hell.
But I endured because...
'It was my chosen path.'
No one forced it.
My thoughts, my hell.
If self-questioning yields that answer—even hell...
"My chosen hell isn't all bad. It's my precious answer."
Worth living fully.
"Chosen hell..."
"Answer enough?"
"…Yeah, kinda. Weird. Talking to you cheers me up."
"Good."
"Yeah."
He nodded.
Hoping that built some rapport.
Shadows might strike again otherwise.
"Late. Time to go."
"Yeah. Great meal, Woodgate. We're off."
"Heading out?"
"Told ya. I'm a student too. Classes in the morning."
"Right. Safe travels. Might see your face someday."
"Earn it."
"Hassle."
"Then why say it?!"
"Dunno."
"You're childish in weird ways."
"Am I?"
"What even?!"
Giggle from the Director.
He waved; I waved back.
"I'll tell Luri to come tomorrow! Bye!"
With that, Director and Croc vanished.
Now, just...
"Agnes."
"Y-Yeah!"
"Let's clean."
Clean up her mess.
Broom swings everywhere: chaos.
"Uh… It's late, tomorrow...?"
"You think I'm that nice?"
"…."
"Overtime for you."
"Gaaah!"
'My chosen hell.'
Director mulled Ethan's words, walking the night streets.
Breeze both cool and warm, bizarre.
Basking in it, lost in thought.
His words stuck like a throat thorn.
'This is my chosen hell.'
What if she'd skipped this path?
Shed thought it before.
Director of Shadow Theater Troupe—too heavy for a girl just seventeen.
Script's role for her.
If she'd rejected that fate?
No current life? Old one continued?
Mulled it often, but...
'My choice wasn't that.'
Not plain, quiet days.
Deceive, trick, hurt—for grander script.
Sacrificial hell.
Her hell, yes.
"My chosen hell is here! …Right?"
This path: her hell.
"…Gotta try hard. For everyone."
Then walk it gladly.
But first...
"Promises kept."
Director tossed mask, flipped hood off.
"See you tomorrow, Senior Ethan."
Pink hair glowed under moonlight, swaying in breeze.
"This right?"
Couldn't confirm to Agnes.
I was doubtful too.
Parted amicably, but shadows? Trust shaky.
Friends even? Questionable.
"If not, oh well."
"We got played! Not mad?!"
"Eh. Main goal was ingredients. Escort was bonus—no real loss."
Lies irked, sure.
But most importantly...
"Not closing time yet. Wait a bit."
"Ugh… Those guys… Overtime cuz of them!"
"No, that was you."
Trembling Agnes.
I patted her back.
"Hey, someone's calling. Focus!"
"O-Okay~ Coming!"
Work first.
I did too.
Time slipped: one hour, two. Closing neared.
Customers gone, cafe quiet. Only Agnes's grumbles.
"Played, huh."
"Yep."
"Not mad?"
"Better prep future than dwell on past."
"Grr..."
Now, how to find Luri...
'Think, any good way—…Hm?'
A sound hit my pondering ears.
Knock knock.
"Excuse me. Anyone there?"
Woman's voice.
Hoping, I opened up.
"Hello. Owner?"
"That's me."
"Still open? Friend said bubble tea here."
Pink-haired heroine.
Luri Bubbletea.
"…."
"Owner?"
"Come in, miss."
They kept their word.
"Seat you now."
"Thanks."
"Bubble tea, right?"
"If possible?"
"Of course."
I bowed to Luri, headed kitchen.
They delivered.
Board set.
Will this cafe boom? Or fade?
Decider...
"Special cafe bubble tea coming up."
Me.
'Let's do this.'
I'd upgraded it just a tad since dawn.