Middle Age Is Beautiful

"Two strawberry lattes and one maple latte."

"Thanks."

"Mrow."

I'd tried every latte under the sun, but the strawberry latte — the first I'd ever tasted — was the one that suited me best. I slipped one into the spatial pocket in my necklace and lifted the other straight to my lips.

A pull on the straw, and the sweet, bright taste of strawberry slid gently down my throat.

"This got even better."

I said it with real admiration. It wasn't overly sweet, and the strawberry's flavor had deepened — better, even, than that first one I'd had at a fairly well-known cafe.

"I made them with fresh strawberries I brought in myself this morning. Good ingredients really do seem to make all the difference."

Oh Yeongjun said it modestly. He'd received his acceptance, but he had no intention of settling into the job and coasting. The only thing he could do for the benefactor who had pulled him out of a pit so deep there had been nowhere left to climb was serve him a better drink. He almost regretted there wasn't more he could offer.

"I like it. Nothing uncomfortable? Nothing too hard? If there is, tell me anytime."

"Mrow. Master, you can't say it like that."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"If you put it that way, of course he won't say anything. I heard humans can't come out and tell the boss who pays their salary that they're having a hard time."

"That so? Then what do they do?"

"I heard that in places with a lot of people, they write something called a letter from the heart."

...Isn't that what they used in the military? A lot really has changed in thirty years.

"There really isn't anything. I mean it."

Yeongjun, who had been listening to the two of us talk, stepped out from behind the counter, came over, and smiled with an awkward little laugh.

Judging by his face, he seems genuine... Ah, I'm really no good at this kind of thing.

Picking out an enemy who meant me harm had always been easier. This — now and in the old days — was what I found hardest.

Hah... How did I even handle this back then?

Well. Back then the kids under me had taken care of all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠these little things.

But unlike the complicated feelings of a cafe owner, Yeongjun was sincere.

If I complained here, I'd actually be insane.

The only customers were one man and one Spiritual Beast(?), and with this salary and these benefits, it was genuinely the best job in the world.

"There's really nothing?"

"Ah! There is."

"Mrow, that's more like it! Out with it, human!"

Samsaek looked oddly thrilled by Yeongjun's words.

This little shit's been messing with me this whole time.

Only then did I catch on. I pulled Samsaek close and gave his cheek a gentle tug.

"Mreeow — I was wrong."

"Are you sure you're a spiritual beast and not some kind of fiend? Like a gumiho or something?"

"She's a genuine lunatic — I mean, a genuine fiend!"

Watching Samsaek's scrunched-up face, Yeongjun barely managed to swallow the laugh that had been about to burst out of him.

"The work is too easy. Getting paid this much to do this... it almost feels like stealing."

The friend beside him nodded hard in vigorous agreement. Aside from the time spent making drinks, there was so little to do they had lost count of how many times a day they cleaned.

"Mrow. Boring."

"You little—!"

I tugged the cheek of a still-unrepentant Samsaek once more.

"Mrrrow—"

Come to think of it, even while I was scolding him, a look around the shop turned up not a single speck of dust. It was cleaner, even, than when we'd hired a cleaning company for the grand opening.

"...It is pretty clean."

Not a mote of dust anywhere. I found myself trusting what the two of them said.

"We feel so bad about it... If anything else comes up that you need done, we'll do whatever it is."

"Mrow. I heard if you make them do things that aren't their job, you're a rotten boss. These days that gets you in big trouble."

Having escaped my hand and fled to the chair across from me, Samsaek said it while sipping his drink.

"That's another joke, isn't it? As if I could trust a word out of a cat fiend."

"Mrow, this one's actually true! You can even ask!"

Samsaek bristled. Was it real this time?

"Ask who?"

"The viewers!"

"What?"

Samsaek tapped his watch a few times, and a virtual camera bloomed into being in front of him as a hologram. A red light winked on, the lens trained solely on Samsaek.

"Mrow. Humans whose companies make them do weird stuff that isn't their job?"

The moment he asked, rectangular windows floated up in the air — dozens of them appearing and vanishing in rapid succession.

"...Mrow. Guess it doesn't get you in big trouble? That's all for the stream."

Thrown by answers that refused to match his expectations, Samsaek hastily declared the broadcast over.

Whatever howling the chat was doing, Samsaek shut the stream off without a shred of ceremony, and I stared at him with a look of pure disbelief.

"...What was that."

"Mrow. I've been streaming lately. As a hobby."

So that was why he'd been muttering to himself in his room so often these past few months.

"That's a thing? But you — to everyone else you're just a cat. How do you even pull that off?"

"Master! Abandon the idea that only humans can stream! These days they call people who think like that dinosaurs."

...Am I the weird one? Didn't people usually gather with other people to broadcast? The broadcasting I knew involved huge cameras pointed at celebrities, and then it showed up on TV.

"These days virtual characters come out and stream on the internet as cats or anime characters, mrow."

"You're not virtual, you're the real... You know what, never mind. So is this internet streaming thing going well?"

"Hit a hundred thousand followers. Mrow."

"...The world really has changed a lot."

Even a fiend like that had fans.

"They just think I'm cute? They love how realistically I made the character."

Well, yeah. Because you're actually alive.

No matter how far the technology had come, they still couldn't build a character where every last hair and every last expression was alive.

"Fine. Do what you want. Anyway, you said they do make people do extra work..."

"We're really fine."

"Wouldn't it be better to just take it easy?"

It wasn't the usual empty courtesy. I meant it. The two of them working a little idle didn't cost me a thing.

"We're just genuinely bored."

Depending on how you heard it, that might have been an unpleasant thing for a boss to hear — but I had to admit they probably were bored. You needed work in order to work.

"Still, it ought to be something useful. How about exercise?"

"...Exercise?"

The sudden suggestion left both of them blinking, heads tilted. Exercise while working? There wasn't even a gym anywhere near here.

"Nothing fancy. Just run around the cafe."

"Understood."

It would have sounded absurd to anyone else, but the trust they had in the man in front of them was already at its peak. They answered without a flicker of hesitation.

I'm sure he has his reasons.

Hearing that knife-sharp, unquestioning reply, the way I looked at the two of them shifted a little. An old memory surfaced. The ones who had always been at my side used to look at me with those same eyes.

Hmm... that changes things a little.

At the very least, I had to return the trust they were giving me in kind.

"You still have some lingering attachment to hunter work, don't you?"

"...I'd be lying if I said no. But we like things better now."

Even after hitting rock bottom, the dream they had kept in their chests remained as dying embers. But those embers would go out soon enough.

It had started with his wife's brightening face.

A son who, unlike his uneducated father, had fortunately taken after his mother and turned out bright. Originally they had lowered their sights with a scholarship as the goal — but thanks to the tuition support, he could go to the university he had wanted all along.

The laughter of the family that had endured so much for so long mattered more now.

"Hmm... I'll make you something. Eat it and then run, or whatever."

"If it's from you, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Karen, we'll eat anything."

"A Magic Power Pill. It'll pull your rank up. A lot faster than crawling through those sluggish Gates."

The principle behind a hunter's Rank Promotion was simple. You either absorbed, naturally, the mana lingering in a Gate's air, or you took in, secondhand, the faint traces of mana given off when a monster died.

"But does it not matter that we have no talent? As you know, we're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠F-rank..."

The problem was that absorption rates differed from person to person. Some people rose in a single day. Others, like these two, could spend years in a Gate — or a lifetime — and never climb at all.

"Doesn't matter. But the principle is direct absorption through the body, so there's a catch. Up to a certain rank, you have to sweat the toxins out."

"We can do it."

Oh Yeongjun's voice trembled with anticipation. He had worked as hard as anyone, only to give up on a path sealed shut by the gap in talent — and now that path was opening toward him.

And this time, I don't have to neglect a single thing.

Being able to hold onto both his dream and his family at once — that, in its way, might have been the most precious privilege society had to offer.

"If you stop halfway, you could die, though. Think it over."

"It's all right. We'll work hard and repay you someday, without fail."

The dream of a high hunter rank was the same, but the purpose had shifted, just a little. He wanted to grow strong for the man in front of him, the man who had saved him.

"No. You don't have to go that far."

"We want to. From now on, we'll run our hardest — toward you, Karen."

"That's right. We're the type who know a debt when we see one."

Looking at the resolve in their eyes, I could tell talking them out of it was useless. It had been a long time since I'd been in this kind of situation.

"All right. Do as you like."

"Thank you. May we start running and preparing now? Of course, we won't forget that the barista work comes first."

"Sure. Go ahead. You know this stays secret, right?"

"Of course. We won't say a word even if it kills us."

"No. If it's actually going to kill you, you can talk."

The moment they had my permission, the two of them headed straight outside, stripped off their shirts, and started running. Even as the sweltering heat soaked them through with sweat, there were smiles on both their faces.

"Mrow. You gonna sell that, Master?"

"Have I lost my mind. Those two aren't the type to go talking anyway."

A fifty-percent potion was already that big a deal. If this got out, awakener society — no, the entire world — would turn upside down.

"Right. Absolutely don't sell it."

Samsaek shook his head hard. The two of them were extremely fond of their current life.

"Let's go."

What drama should we watch this time. The best part of the thirty-year gap I'd spent away from Earth.

There are so many dramas. Masterpieces, even.

Back then I'd been too busy surviving day to day to even think about watching. Looking at them now, they were genuinely fun.

Is this why the middle-aged folks were so into dramas?

Leaving the two of them running hard around the cafe, we headed home.

"Achoo!"

"Master! You sneezed — someone must be talking trash about you!"

"...Just be a person already."