Chapter 25: A Stubborn Berry and a Divine Visitor

Something was wrong.
The berry I planted refused to sprout, no matter how long I waited.
I’d harvested silver vine flowers three times already, and the cloud milk saplings had shot up, bearing unripe fruit.
Sure, plants need time to grow, and the explosive growth of silver vine and cloud milk trees was the anomaly.
But I’d grown accustomed to their rapid pace, so the berry’s stagnation worried me.
After all that effort to get it!

“Bbiak bbiak!”
Even after the pig-bird used its growth buff—its cooldown reset—it stared at me proudly, expecting praise. I sighed, patting its head.
No results, but at least it tried…

“Ugh… what’s the problem?”
“What’s wrong?”
I’d left Bernell to watch the Nekomatas, but he couldn’t resist following me out.

“What if the kittens sneak into the bar and make a mess while you’re out here?”
“Your face looked serious, so I came to check.”
Fair enough—the café’s glass front let him see me sighing over the berry patch.

“It’s about the lake behind Abelgart manor.”
Bernell flinched at the mention of the lake where Aileen fell.
“I picked the berry there and planted it, but it won’t sprout.”

“Now that you mention it, my last memory of you is swimming across that lake.”
“Yeah, I reached the rocky island in the center.”
His expression softened, nostalgic, before he offered insight.

“That must be a jewel berry. Mother loved them.”
Jewel berry—simple, fitting.
Recalling it, the berry didn’t look like typical ones. Its glossy, ruby-like surface gleamed like glass, as if it’d crunch when bitten.

“They grow near water, so it might not be sprouting because the environment’s wrong.”
“Water?”
Right, I’d plucked it from the lake’s center.

“I haven’t set up a waterside here. Thanks for the tip.”
“You can rely on me anytime.”
His sibling-like treatment still felt heavy, but after the nightmare, I saw the upside of his protectiveness.
Relying on someone wasn’t my style, but…

“Waterside, huh…”
I had 4 cheok of Causality—yesterday’s leftovers plus Catsy’s prepaid childcare fee.
After spending 9 cheok on uniforms, the kids’ zone, fence, cat tower, cat wheel, second-floor stairs, rooms, and Bernell’s bed, just 3 more would raise the café’s presence rank.

As I pondered a small pond’s design, Bernell shared a story about jewel berries, like an old tale.
“Since jewel berries grow by water, funny things happen. Ripe ones float, but unripe ones sink. Fishermen or gold panners often mistake the glinting red in the water for gems.”

He used to tell Aileen such stories, compensating for her bedridden life.
I preferred them over sword training or drills, finding them fascinating from my world’s perspective.

“They must’ve been thrilled, thinking they struck it rich, only to be disappointed.”
Like picking up what looks like a 50,000-won bill, only to find it’s a flyer.

“That’s why some call them trick berries—deceptive little things. Others get so annoyed just seeing them that they stomp or burn the bushes.”
“That’s a bit…”
Taking it out on innocent plants?

His story made me realize jewel berries weren’t as rare as silver vine or cloud milk in his dimension.

“Alright.”
I settled on the pond’s form: small, not obstructing the path to the silver vine garden, visible from the café.
It wouldn’t be large, but bigger than a square meter.
I’d need to prioritize land expansion with more Causality.

“This size…”
Visualizing the pond, I used Causality.
A white light zipped to the ground, forming a quaint pond, like one for ornamental koi in a fancy yard.
Round, shallow, filled with clear blue water and bordered by white pebbles, it felt soothing to look at.

‘Maybe I could raise fish from another dimension here.’
The pond brightened the yard, but the café’s untouched exterior looked shabbier by comparison.
‘I’ll have to spruce it up someday.’

The berry, planted by the pond, now had the right environment.
If it still didn’t grow, I’d be crushed.

“Remarkable,” Bernell said, beaming with pride.
Before I could respond, a guest popped into existence—a thunderbird in a sharp purple suit.

“Well, a new face!”
Bernell, not recognizing it as a customer, stepped in front of me, alert. His uniform morphed into silver armor, longsword in hand.
Does combat mode auto-shift his appearance?

“Who are you!”
I understood his caution. Unlike Catsy and the Nekomatas, who at least took human forms, the thunderbird was a giant, talking bird.
Bernell didn’t yet grasp the café’s clientele.

“Bernell, that’s rude to a guest.”
I pushed his sword aside, stepping forward.

“Please forgive the rudeness, Thunderbird. He’s new and not fully trained.”
“Hohoho, no worries. I sense warding power in him.”
The thunderbird, divine as expected, instantly clocked Bernell’s nature.

“Better to be on guard like that. What if an evil god shows up in disguise?”
Thankfully, its generosity overlooked Bernell’s behavior.

“Still, I feel bad, so I’ll add a free silver vine flower tea.”
“I won’t say no to that!”
The thunderbird chirped happily, hopping into the café.

“A bird… talks,” Bernell muttered, uneasy, staring at its back.
I patted his shoulder to ease him. His armor faded back to the uniform, the sword vanishing.

“You saw talking cats, didn’t you? It’s weird, but they’re dimension-managing gods, like Catsy.”
“A god… like that?”
“I was shocked too at first.”

I realized I’d need to train Bernell before guests like Yama, the death god, showed up. Lucky this was just the thunderbird.

I hurried in to brew tea for the waiting guest.
Perched on a bar stool, the thunderbird admired the kids’ zone, where the Nekomatas and pig-bird played.

“Well! The interior’s changed a lot. Are those dream kittens? They rarely leave their dimension—seeing them’s said to bring luck!”
Those chaotic kittens, lucky?

“Luck, huh…”
It spotted the second-floor stairs and Catsy’s idol, exclaiming further.
“You’ve made many connections in no time! Plenty of Causality too. This place is no longer a fledgling—it’s thriving!”

“Yeah, a lot’s happened in a short time.”
As I prepared the tea, I recounted my experiences to the thunderbird, like a report.

It worried deeply about my encounter with the evil god’s creation and reacted strongly to my nightmare.
“You were harmed by a nightmare? The dream wasn’t random. It’s the aftermath of being touched by it—like bleeding from a wound for mortals. If you were ordinary, it wouldn’t have stopped at just a dream…”

So, the nightmare wasn’t just stress—it was the injury manifesting.
My higher presence rank gave me resistance, like boosted defenses.

‘If a mere creation’s touch did this, what would a direct hit from an evil god do…?’
Raising my presence strengthens resistance but increases exposure to evil gods. A double-edged sword.

“To protect the precious silver vine tea artisan, I must step up!”
The thunderbird handed me its completed idol—an egg-shaped jewel box, intricately gilded like a Fabergé egg.
Empty inside, it was still aesthetically stunning, outshining the other idols in splendor.

“What a beautiful idol!”
“Hohoho, crafted to my refined taste.”
The egg idol perfectly reflected the thunderbird’s elegant demeanor.

I placed it carefully on the display shelf, feeling profound stability.
The café now had the protection of three gods.