Chapter 10
Chapter 10
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: New Face Pink Hair (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Manager. Take this.”
“Don’t bring swords into the cafe.”
“Ehehe. It’s not even sharpened. I balanced it, so give it a swing and see.”
Sure enough, I took the longsword, which was closer to a blunt weapon than a blade. It was pretty hefty, but not unusable, and it seemed like he’d eyeballed it to my height and arm length because the balance felt spot-on.
I hadn’t doubted Dras’s craftsmanship, but damn, it was perfect.
“Fits just right.”
“I figured it for two-handed weight, but you’re handling it one-handed no problem.”
“I’ve been swinging blades for close to fifteen years now. Sure, I barely touched one this past year.”
“You look scrawny on the outside.”
“Inner muscle build.”
Maybe because this was a romance-fantasy world, even if you trained your ass off and tore your muscles to shreds, you didn’t end up looking like a hulking brute. It was like some kind of beautifying force field. Sure, some women dug muscles, but in romance-fantasy, you pictured sleek, refined guys.
I handled the sword so effortlessly that Dras, taking it back, nodded in satisfaction before sliding it into its square case.
He plunked the case down at his feet, hopped back onto the tall bar chair, and I poured him a cool glass of water—considering how heavy that case looked—and pulled out a piece of chocolate.
“Hm. This kind of thoughtfulness the secret to your popularity?”
“Ugh, drop it already.”
“When the usually smug manager gets flustered, I just can’t stop. It’s like an old man’s last hobby.”
“Even if you call yourself old, don’t you have more years left than me?”
“Dwarves and elves do have long lifespans, but not that long. And I recall high-level mages get extra years too.”
“I’m not that exceptional. I’m confident in a fight, though.”
“Well, a mage’s skill doesn’t always mean combat prowess. I’ve seen plenty of know-it-alls step onto the battlefield and lose their heads.”
“Isn’t Labyrinth City full of battle-hardened mages?”
“Mostly, yeah. But there’s always exceptions.”
I sipped my coffee slowly while listening to tales of promising Magic Tower mages who wandered into the labyrinth and came out as corpses. This time, I’d tried a blend with some acidity—not bad at all.
Leimi sis and Mina sis drank coffee to beat fatigue and preferred bitter brews, so they weren’t big on sour notes. Dras called it a “real man’s flavor” and skipped it, which left it as my personal indulgence. Was that a flaw?
I thought about brewing some for Karin and seeing her reaction.
The subtle fruit aroma lingered in my mouth as I took a sip—just then, the bell on the door jingled, and three people walked in.
“Manager. The friend I mentioned last time is here.”
“Oh, today’s the day? Come on in.”
“Hi. I’m Dalia, Leimi’s cohort from the Imperial Magic Tower.”
“I’m here too.”
Leimi sis, Mina sis, and Dalia took a seat at the four-person sofa table instead of the bar, like they had private business to discuss. I headed over to take their orders.
“The usual for me.”
“Me too.”
“Um, what’s on the menu?”
“We handle a wide variety of coffees here, so it’s hard to just list them. Better if I ask a few questions. Do you prefer bitter drinks, or something sweeter or with some acidity?”
“Coffee? Probably the bitter taste.”
“Then, do you like fuller body and richer aroma from oils, or a cleaner cup?”
“The clean one...”
“For scents, nuts, chocolate, citrus or floral—which do you prefer?”
“Chocolate?”
“Got it. I’ll make something as close to your taste as possible.”
Among the beans I had, a medium roast with chocolate notes, poured through a paper filter as drip coffee, seemed perfect. I personally favored pour-over, so paper filter drip was a bit rare for me.
I ground the beans much coarser than for espresso, folded the paper filter into the dripper, rinsed it with hot water to kill any paper smell, and confirmed it stuck tight.
I piled the grounds on the filter, tapped to level them flat.
Water temp from rinsing: 93 degrees. Perfect. I poured a bit onto the coffee. Watched it bloom and degas, then poured the main pour once air was out.
Paper filters suck up oils ruthlessly, making them best for clean cups, in my book. I poured thin streams in slow circles once, repeated three times total.
About three minutes later, I decanted into the cup and pulled espresso shots for the other two, diluting them.
“Ready.”
“Fascinating. All that gear over there is for brewing coffee?”
“Yeah. Different methods bring out distinct flavors and aromas, so I keep a variety.”
She let out a soft “Oh,” took a sip of what I’d made, then widened her eyes and covered her mouth.
“...It’s almost exactly what I imagined from those questions.”
“Told you the manager’s got skills.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Dalia chuckled at Mina sis’s usual slouch and affirmative hum over her coffee. Silence fell briefly, broken only by occasional sips.
And as expected, Dalia—who seemed to have an agenda—shattered it.
“Back southwest where most coffee comes from, they just roast it roughly, stir into hot water, or chew the beans whole. If you can refine the taste like this, though, it could work.”
“Work? What’s going on?”
“Truth is, I came to see Leimi for a reason. I’m an assistant professor at the Magic Tower now, and a friend in the palace brought word: His Majesty the Emperor’s preparing an inspection tour to Labyrinth City.”
“Pardon?”
Why would that confident young emperor bother?
Labyrinth City Astraea wasn’t thriving on imperial grace—it was a de facto autonomous zone, the empire’s second heart, fueled by the labyrinth’s mysterious bounties.
Adventurers like dedicated labyrinth workers or self-employed folks like me running shops paid special low taxes to the empire.
Sure, if the emperor could seize Astraea, it’d mean unprecedented power—obvious as day. But poke it wrong, and top adventurers would revolt. Few emperors had dared.
Seeing my puzzled look, she gave a wry smile.
“Word is, he’s very interested in the empire’s culture and industries. Seems he wants to requisition anything good from Labyrinth City—products or culture—to spread empire-wide.”
“Ah.”
Fitting for his flashy tastes—he eyed the city’s unique culture. But I liked coffee; didn’t mean I wanted to spread it.
“Manager. No dodging this. Rumor is, every registered business—not just street stalls—has to exhibit.”
“What? That’s a problem. Unless it’s cold brew, I have to brew on-site.”
“Huh? Just do it. Move the gear over, right?”
“It’s not that simple.”
The Pallan Empire and Imir Kingdom were officially friendly, so high nobles mingled often. The current emperor, young since his recent ascension, had hosted Imir nobles and heirs for his coronation festivities.
Yeah. He knew my face.
Three years my senior, he’d even held a tea party just for nobles my age—so he’d remember me for sure. Spot me brewing in the plaza, he’d think, Why the hell is this guy here? and react instantly.
“...Maybe take a vacation and travel?”
“You think that’d actually work?”
“Mina sis. Wanna work here part-time?”
“If I marry, I could help my husband’s business.”
“We’re doomed. What now?”
“Pretend I didn’t hear...”
They all looked baffled, not expecting my panic. But seriously, trouble. Leimi sis knew the bad rumors about Rias, my ex-fiancée, so the emperor likely did too—figure out why I was here quick, then squeeze me dry with his ruthless streak.
“Guess I need to hire help starting today.”
“...That bad?”
“Royalty just gives me the chills.”
Listen up, Imir Kingdom’s third princess Kanila Imir, second prince Christoph Imir—you flower-brained fools in this romance-fantasy world.
Anyway, I resolved to hire short-term help to avoid meeting the emperor face-to-face.