Chapter 11: A Level-Up and a New Dessert

After Blue Child left, the café grew quiet again.
I pulled out one Causality unit from my pocket, mulling it over for a long time.

“If I use this, that’ll be 12 units total invested in the café, meaning it’ll gain presence.”
I hesitated, as I’d been planning to get a fridge.
Blue Child said invasions weren’t likely without a certain level of presence, but I couldn’t help worrying.

A character that levels up too fast without building stats or skills collapses quickly.
You need to max out skills, boost stats, and gear up for safe play—that’s my standard approach.
So I was concerned about rushing to increase presence and ending up with a hollow shell.

“But I’ve been focusing on hot drinks so far. It’s time to try something cold.”
Especially with Cloudmilk’s potential, I couldn’t pass it up just because of leveling fears.
There’s a whole world of cold milk-based café drinks out there.

“No choice, then.”
Finally, I made my decision.
To attract gods from my dimension, I urgently needed to develop new menus.
With just Silverwing Herbs, I’d made two distinct drinks using fresh and dried flowers, so I had to squeeze every bit of potential from my limited ingredients.

Flutter.
I sent the glowing orb toward the sink area, creating a fridge.
It was a large, glass-door model like you’d see in a convenience store, with separate refrigeration and freezer compartments.
Despite my worries, it looked impressively satisfying.

With this, I’d used 12 Causality units, so I waited for the presence increase to manifest.
But, anticlimactically, nothing happened—no level-up effect, no noticeable change.
As if mocking my expectations, the shop remained as peaceful as ever.

“Worried for nothing. Might as well make up for overthinking by diving into recipe development.”
While sterilizing glass jars in boiling water, I went outside to harvest more Cloudmilk Fruits and juiced them.

Scrub, scrub.
After drying the sterilized jars, I filled them with Cloudmilk and stored them in the fridge, feeling proud seeing them displayed like premium products.
Cloudmilk’s preparation was tedious, so pre-making it was much easier.
For warm Cloudmilk, I could just pull it out and heat it.

“Hmm, this side’s the freezer… Should I freeze some Cloudmilk for ice cream?”
The ingredients were too simple for proper ice cream, but I recalled freezing milk cartons and scooping out delicious bites with a spoon—not a bad idea.

I poured Cloudmilk into a wide-mouthed container and placed it in the freezer.
While it froze, I tried making cold Silverwing Herb Tea, chilling it in the fridge.
But it was a disaster.
The steam butterflies rising from the tea froze and plummeted inside the fridge, and when I took it out, a sour smell replaced the usual fragrance—a total failure.
Not even a transparent card appeared to signal a new recipe. Just trash.

I had to hold fresh Silverwing Herbs under my nose for a while to forget the stench.

“Piggy, let’s go for a walk.”

“Pwee.”
Lost in recipe development, I realized it was time to feed the pig-bird lunch.
It crawled out of its nest eagerly, and we checked the garden.

“Pwee-pwee.”
Midway through pecking at some Cloudmilk Fruits, it started flapping its wings fiercely, just like before.

“Oh, our clever piggy!”
Radiant light burst from its body—its buff cooldown must have reset.
The surrounding trees and flowers shimmered under its influence, growing rapidly.
Sprouts from the buried Cloudmilk Fruits pushed through the soil, turning into saplings in moments.
The pig-bird’s growth buff seemed to have a three-day cooldown.

“Hmm, I need to be careful with the Silverwing Herbs. One wrong move, and they’ll seed before I can harvest the flowers.”
Noticing three white cocoons on the herbs I’d planted earlier, I winced.

After letting the pig-bird stretch and wander, we returned to the shop, and I focused on dessert-making, aiming for a decent ice cream, even skipping sleep to manage freezing times.
Too little freezing left the texture lacking; too much, and it stuck to the container, becoming hard to handle.
Worse, as it melted, a watery layer separated, ruining the Cloudmilk’s flavor.

“Pwee-pwee.”

“I can’t give you this. Too much cold stuff will upset your stomach.”
The pig-bird whined by my side, keeping me company, upset that I was tossing failed attempts down the sink.

“Done!”
After countless tries, I nailed the ideal ice cream form.
Tapping the frozen container’s base, the Cloudmilk slid out slowly, landing perfectly.
A white, round mound settled beautifully in a transparent dessert bowl.
Poking it with a spoon, it gave way softly while holding its shape—visually perfect.

Scooping a bite, the ice cream melted smoothly, releasing a rich sweetness across my tongue.
Sugar would’ve helped, but the taste wasn’t bad.

But…

Pop!

[New Recipe Discovery Imminent!
Registrable Menu: Cloudmilk Ice Cream?
Ingredients: Cloudmilk Fruit
Freezing / No Additives
Completion: C (C+)
Far from dessert-worthy.]

The problem was the half-baked transparent card—not a full discovery, just “imminent.”
It felt like the system was stricter with desserts than drinks, as if telling me to make something worth selling.
Grudgingly, I tossed the hard-won ice cream down the sink and washed my hands.

“Pwee-pwee.”

“That’s enough for today.”
After eating so many sweets I didn’t even like, I felt exhausted.
I’d think again after some sleep.

The Thunderbird arrived early.

“Oh, this place finally has a name! I saw the sign—Baby Bird Café, how cute! Was it inspired by the sacred bird?”

“Yeah, it’s… the first thing customers notice when they walk in.”

“Pwee-pwee.”

“Seeing the sacred bird so loved and thriving warms my heart! One Silverwing Herb Tea, please.”

“Just a moment.”
When the Thunderbird visits, we catch up on café happenings.
It’s like reading a diary to get feedback, spotting anything I missed or could improve.

“Oh, Blue Child? I’ve heard of them. Isn’t their mentor the famous healing god, Master Apothecary? Wow, Mr. Kong, you’ve connected with a big name!”

“Well, Blue Child only visited once, so I’m not sure it counts as a connection.”

“Master Apothecary uses their dimension solely for training disciples, a quirky trait. They rarely leave, so only disciples meet them. That’s connection enough!”
What rank is Master Apothecary?
Higher than the Thunderbird, for sure—maybe even above Yama?

“I also learned about defenses. Blue Child said they’d get a talisman recipe from Master Apothecary soon.”

“Talismans! I forgot to mention those to you!”

“Can you make talismans, Thunderbird?”
At my question, it let out a chirpy laugh, glancing at the pig-bird.

“No way…”

“Is the sacred bird holy for nothing? It’s not exactly a talisman, but its presence carries an anti-evil aura. I can’t make talismans, but in my absence, I ensure sacred bird eggs are born to protect my dimension from evil spirits.”

“So the sacred bird counts as… someone with the power to fend off evil spirits.”
I looked at the pig-bird proudly.
It wasn’t just a growth buff—it had more abilities.
A bird that could’ve been a dimension’s saint should at least ward off demons.

“Exactly. I’m not incapable! Talisman-making gods are just a different breed.”
The Thunderbird stressed this, eager not to seem incompetent.

“But don’t make the mistake of sending the sacred bird against evil spirits. It’s still a chick—just easy prey. Controlling its divine power is tough enough at this age.”

“Pwee-pwee.”

“Got it. I didn’t expect Pig… I mean, Baby Bird to be much help yet.”
Giving the Thunderbird time to savor its tea, I resumed work on the Cloudmilk Ice Cream.

Watching quietly, it spoke up.

“Why discard the fruit’s shell?”

“Oh, it’s tasteless, so…”

“What a pity! Cloudmilk Fruit is complete only with its shell!”

“Even so…”
How could I use this flavorless, jelly-like shell?
Wait—jelly?
I stopped tossing the shells and gathered them.

“I was shortsighted.”
Why didn’t I think of gelatin?
Tasteless on its own, it adds viscosity and a soft texture when mixed in—a key dessert ingredient, like in pudding.
Without eggs, I couldn’t make custard pudding, but milk and gelatin could work for milk pudding.

“Thanks for the advice.”

“No problem! I’m excited for your new menu!”
Since the Thunderbird prefers tea, I didn’t expect it to care much.

Bubble, bubble.
I heated Cloudmilk from the fridge, added the jelly shells, stirred until viscous, cooled it, poured it into a container, and refrigerated it.

“I’ll be off!”
After finishing its tea, the Thunderbird left. Hours later, I retrieved the container.
Flipping it over a dessert bowl and tapping, a smooth, jiggly mass slid out.
Poking it with a spoon, it wobbled with perfect elasticity.

[New Recipe Discovery Imminent!
Registrable Menu: Cloudmilk Pudding?
Ingredients & Method: Cloudmilk Fruit
Freezing / No Additives
Completion: C (C+)
Far from dessert-worthy.]

Another half-baked card.

“Hmm…”
I pulled the partially frozen Cloudmilk from the freezer, scooped out a hollow, and placed it atop the pudding in the dessert bowl, creating a layered round dessert.
Pressing a spoon through, it pierced the ice cream layer into the pudding, combining both.
The hard ice cream encased the soft pudding, melting at different rates on my tongue.
It created a subtle contrast between the initial and lingering flavors from a single dessert.

Pop!

[New Recipe Discovered!
Registrable Menu: Special Cloudmilk Ice Cream
Ingredients & Method: Cloudmilk Fruit / Freezing, Mixing / No Additives
Completion: B+ (A)
Lacking in presentation.
Effect: Pending
Rating: Pending
Preferred Customer Type: Pending]

Finally, a complete menu success.

“My, a new café?”
No sooner had I finished than a new customer arrived.