Chapter 10: A Childlike God and a Named Café

Even after I served the freshly made Warm Cloudmilk, the child guest couldn’t take their eyes off the pig-bird.

“Name, huh…”
Come to think of it, the Thunderbird never mentioned the pig-bird’s name, always calling it “sacred bird.”
Surely I’m not supposed to name it myself?
I’m no good at naming, and “pig-bird” had already stuck in my head, hard to shake off.

“It doesn’t really have a name, so I’ve just been calling it Pig-Bird…”
At that, the pig-bird, dozing in its nest, jolted awake, chirping as if called.

“Pig-Bird?”

“Pwee-pwee.”
The child guest’s expression soured.
Yeah… it’s a bit tactless to call it something so blunt.

“Ahem.”
Embarrassed, I averted my gaze.
But the child’s next reaction caught me off guard.

“What a… bountiful name. Its cries are like jade beads rolling.”

“Pwee-pwee.”
They were clearly smitten—hopelessly so, and in droves.

“Sir, aren’t you going to drink? I recommend having it before it cools.”
Unable to watch anymore, I changed the subject, and only then did their gaze shift to the mug.

Sip. They grasped the handle with small hands, savoring the Cloudmilk slowly.

“Hmm… A peculiar taste.”
They seemed pleased.

“It feels… oddly calming.”

Flash!

[Effect: Mild calming effect
Rating: (+1)
[Blue Child – A high-quality drink satisfying my refined taste ★★★★★]
Preferred Customer Type: Childlike / Pending]

The guest’s review updated the Cloudmilk’s record.
It was like leaving a star rating and comment on a delivery app.
And the guest’s identity…

“Blue Child, huh?”
Not a familiar name, but not entirely unknown either—maybe from some old folktale?

“Indeed. I manage a small but substantial dimension. While visiting my mentor’s neighboring dimension, I followed a sweet aroma and found myself here.”
Seeing “Childlike” listed as a preferred customer type, I figured they liked milk because of their youthful form.

Perhaps that’s why I felt generous, refilling their nearly empty mug with more Cloudmilk.

“A kind shopkeeper.”
Despite their dignified tone, their grin stretched ear to ear.

“Is this place new? It’s strange I hadn’t heard of a place making such fine drinks. It should be famous.”

“Well… we only opened recently. You’re only the third customer, Blue Child.”

“Hmm… That explains why the defenses are so lax.”
Their gaze lingered briefly on the shelf with Yama’s teacup before moving on.

“Is it just you and that delicate young lady here?”
They kept stealing glances at the pig-bird, their face serious.
I couldn’t fathom how they saw the massive pig-bird as “delicate.”

“Yes, just the two of us.”

“Then you should be more cautious. I worry that lovely young lady might come to harm.”
Harm, huh. That was already on my mind, so I seized the chance to ask Blue Child.
They seemed like a great teacher, second only to the Thunderbird.

“Pardon, but could you tell me more about these defenses? As a newcomer, I’m lacking in that knowledge.”
Instead of answering right away, Blue Child slid their empty mug toward me.
It was cute enough that I didn’t mind, fetching two more fruits to make another Cloudmilk.

Soon, holding a steaming mug with a relaxed expression, they spoke.

“Opening a shop without knowing this? You’re underprepared. How much Causality have you invested here?”

“Causality, huh…”
Counting the Thunderbird’s recent tea payment plus tip, that’s 5 units, and Yama gave 5, all used—so 10 units total.

“I’ve put 10 units of Causality into this shop.”

“That’s quite a bit. Just 2 more, and this place will gain presence.”

“You mean the presence gods use to make idols?”

“Exactly.”
I recalled the Thunderbird saying to use Causality to give this space legitimacy, making it truly “exist.”

“And with another 12 units, that presence grows stronger. It increases every 12 units.”
So Causality is like “experience points,” and presence is the “level.”
The more Causality I use, the higher the shop’s level.

“But a higher presence isn’t always good, is it?”
Blue Child nodded, mug at their lips.

“It makes you a target for evil spirits. They’ll come, jaws open, to plunder Causality. To them, a high-presence place looks like a juicy treasure chest.”
As expected.
The uneasy feeling from the Thunderbird’s mention of evil spirits wasn’t just paranoia.

“Evil spirits can’t gather Causality like us. They invade lower gods’ dimensions or high-presence places like this, destroying and looting to get it. You need to prepare for invasions before your presence grows.”
I thought this was a peaceful café management game, but it’s a defense game too.

I’d only played defense games with sturdy castles and heroes, so I had no clue how to protect a place like this.
If an evil spirit attacked, this shop wouldn’t last five minutes.

“Can you tell me more about these defenses?”
Before they could ask, I quickly refilled their mug with Cloudmilk. Good thing I made extra.

Blue Child feigned reluctance but lifted the mug with a wide grin.

“For one, that.”
They pointed at Yama’s teacup on the shelf.

“An idol from a high-ranking god is good defense. You’re lucky for a newbie. That’s a powerful god’s idol—guard it well.”
With both the Thunderbird and Blue Child calling it impressive, Yama must be a major deity.
I mentally patted myself on the back for developing the tea that brought Yama here. Well done, me.

“Or you can make talismans. That requires expertise and time for them to build proper energy.”

“Talismans…”

“Certain flowers and trees emit an aura that repels evil spirits just by growing, so planting their seeds is good. Oh, and a simple method: hire someone with the power to fend off evil spirits.”
This defense sounds tricky.

I can’t just snap my fingers with Causality and set up defenses.
Talismans need expertise, and since I can’t create life with Causality, I’d need to source plants or hire staff elsewhere.
I’m already short on ingredients for new menus, and now I need to worry about defenses too.

“Do you know how to make talismans, Blue Child?”

“I don’t, but my mentor does.”

“Can I get their help somehow?”

“I was already worried about that delicate young lady living in such an unprotected place.”
Thank you, Pig-Bird. Suddenly, maybe with rose-tinted glasses like Blue Child’s, it looked utterly adorable.

“I’ll try to get my mentor’s talisman-making method.”

“Thank you.”
Meeting Blue Child early was a stroke of luck.
Otherwise, I’d have been clueless and vulnerable to those evil spirits.

“I should get going. Shopkeeper, the bill, please.”
They drank four mugs of Cloudmilk in one sitting—a shop record for such a new place.

“I’ll only charge Causality for the first cup. Pay what you think the drink was worth.”
Blue Child happily handed over 4 units of Causality.

Seeing the glowing orbs in my hand calmed me, like having an emergency fund in the bank.

“I’ll return as soon as possible.”
Hopping off the stool, Blue Child scurried to the pig-bird, hands behind their back, twisting shyly.

“Ahem, beautiful lady, I am Blue Child. May you stay well until we meet again.”

“Pwee.”

“I’ll fetch that talisman recipe for you soon.”

“Pwee-pwee.”
The pig-bird stared curiously at Blue Child’s one-sided performance but quickly lost interest.
Its only concerns were me and Cloudmilk Fruits.

After an enthusiastic farewell, Blue Child left.
Or rather, left and came back.

“Shopkeeper, what’s this place called? I just noticed there’s no sign.”

“Oh… that.”

“If you haven’t decided, you should name it and put up a sign soon. Even gods like us and inanimate objects have names, don’t they?”

“True.”

“Occupying a place without marking it doesn’t make sense. Naming it claims ownership, and that alone can be a good defense. Don’t forget to prepare it.”
With that, Blue Child vanished.

“A name… I hadn’t thought of that. If just naming it and putting up a sign helps with defense, I should do it fast.”
Of the 4 Causality units from Blue Child, I saved 3 and held 1 for the sign, pondering endlessly.

“What should I call this place? Since it’s a café, maybe something with ‘Café’ at the end…”
I wondered how all those street cafés came up with their names.
My naming sense was abysmal, making the process agonizing.

“Hmm… some shops use the owner’s name.”
That’d be Kong Yoon Café or Yoon Café, but neither felt quite right.

“Or maybe the mascot…”
I glanced at the pig-bird, staring at me from its nest.
In terms of presence, it outshone me in both size and impact.

Thus, the café’s name, narrowly avoiding “Pig-Bird” due to a pang of conscience, became Baby Bird Café.
Finally, a sign bearing the name was hung at the entrance.