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Two recipe cards popped up—one for juicer-made jewel berry juice, one for blender-made.
The juicer version’s grade was lower—a dud.
But the juicer wasn’t a waste.
“Now I can process cloud milk more easily,” I thought.
Pouring the blender mix into a tall glass, a sweet, ruby-red liquid filled it.
New Recipe Discovered!
I wasn’t disappointed, having kept expectations low.
“Not easy to nail it first try,” I muttered.
Using the right glass barely pushed it to B.
Holding the recipe card, I mulled over my ingredients and their uses.
Additives—syrup or garnish?
“Hmm…”
“Something wrong?” Bernell asked.
“It’s not quite perfect. Want to try it?”
He nodded eagerly.
I watched anxiously as he sipped the jewel berry juice.
He drained it quickly, smiling faintly.
“Tastes great.”
“Ugh, I forgot—you see everything I do through rose-tinted glasses.”
He’d praise anything I made.
I needed an objective critic.
“Sorry,” Bernell said, noticing my disappointment. “I got carried away. It’s perfect to me, but… compared to the manor’s, it lacks sweetness.”
“Sweetness?”
I tapped the recipe card, thinking of the berry’s sugar-like shell.
“And they usually add ice to make it cold.”
Perfect cheat sheet.
I’d considered chilling the berries but forgot ice could solve it.
I crushed heaps of berry shells for sweetness and added ice made from boiled water to enhance the juice.
While at it, I tried a smoothie with cloud milk and frozen berries.
The blender’s hum filled the café, giving it a cozy, everyday vibe.
“Got it!”
New Recipe Discovered!
Thanks to Bernell’s advice, the juice hit A-grade without further trial and error.
Ping! Pop!
Sparkling light burst from the drink, swirling across the ceiling like a galaxy.
A special effect, like with silver vine tea—rare and exciting.
I flung open the door, fanning the air to spread the scent.
Bring in lots of guests!
And the smoothie:
New Recipe Discovered!
Cloud milk’s latte-like essence paired perfectly with frozen berries, yielding an A-grade smoothie with the same sparkling effect.
One ingredient, two recipes, and three potential new guest types.
Only one guest slot for the A-grade juice was a bit disappointing, but still a win.
“Hard work pays off,” I said, expecting at least one new guest.
But hours passed, and no one came—not even regulars like the thunderbird or Catsy with the Nekomatas.
The café felt eerily quiet, almost lonely.
“What’s going on? Usually, a new recipe brings guests right away.”
“No news is good news,” Bernell said. “They’ll come soon.”
Hoping the scent hadn’t spread, I made a few more drinks for practice, but by bedtime, still no visitors.
The anticipation made the letdown sting.
“On days like this, rest early,” Bernell said, mopping the floor unprompted—a thoughtful gesture.
“Yeah, some days are like this.”
I’d endured far lonelier days, but with Bernell here, it wasn’t so bad.
Tomorrow’s another day.
Thud! Thud!
Deep in sleep, I felt strange vibrations and sounds from outside.
Startled, I rushed out of my room, meeting Bernell, who’d sensed it too.
“What’s that noise?”
“No idea.”
“Bbiak bbiak!”
The pig-bird’s terrified cries grew louder from downstairs. The vibrations, initially mild, now shook the entire café.
Something big was happening.
I followed Bernell downstairs.
The pig-bird flung itself into my arms, trembling. I pushed aside its fluffy feathers to assess the situation.
“What the…”
Bernell, fully armored, peered through the front glass.
Small, black objects darted around the garden outside.
An ominous feeling hit me.
Buzz…
The café’s vibrations were a warning.
“Intruders!”
Small and few, but their intent wasn’t friendly.
Guests never came when I slept. Though this place lacked day or night, my active hours were “day,” and sleep was “night”—tied to the One Dream concept from my latte art manager mode.
“Those tiny things are intruders?” Bernell asked, skeptical, scanning outside.
“Definitely.”
I checked the door locks and floor for gaps, fearing the things might find a way in.
Remodeling the floor and windows was my best decision—otherwise, those black things would’ve breached already.
“They want in, but it’s impossible… for now.”
The creatures slammed into the walls—the source of the noise that woke me.
Their aggressive attempts failed against the sturdy door.
The Nekomata’s dreamcatcher above the entrance glowed intermittently, illuminating a fixed area. I guessed it marked the dreamcatcher’s protective range.
Even if the dreamcatcher was holding the door, why couldn’t they breach the unfortified exterior walls?
Then I remembered: every guest, despite being able to enter, asked my permission first.
A rule or taboo requiring the owner’s consent?
There’s hope!
As long as I denied entry, that taboo was my fortress.
“They might be evil gods,” I said.
“Those tiny things?” Bernell scoffed.
“Or their minions. The nightmare you fought at the manor was just an evil god’s servant. These could be too.”
Even with the taboo, this was serious.
I thought evil gods wouldn’t target a rank 2 café. Yet here we were, already under attack.
Emboldened by the certainty they couldn’t enter easily, I approached the glass.
“Bbiak!”
The pig-bird clung to my waist, trying to stop me.
“Are they mad?”
Frustrated by failed entry, they started devouring my crops—jewel berries and cloud milk tree roots.
Their pause to feast let me observe them.
Small, filthy black creatures with long tails—mice.
“Mice? Why mice? Where’d they come from?”
“Then no need for caution—let’s take them out,” Bernell said. “They’re ruining your crops.”
“Wait!”
Before I could stop him, Bernell grabbed his sword and stormed out.
“Bernell!”
The café’s first evil god defense battle.
His rashness without discussion unnerved me.
Sure, they were just mice, but underestimating anything tied to evil gods was dangerous. There were so many.
Go for it!
I didn’t follow—unlike the skilled knight, I was frail. Cheering from behind the glass was my best move.
Thwack! Crunch!
To my relief, Bernell easily dispatched the mice, which turned to black smoke upon defeat.
Six mice, gone in moments. The first defense battle ended anticlimactically.
“Phew…”
Bernell signaled it was safe.
Calming the still-scared pig-bird, I stepped outside cautiously.
“Wow… they wrecked everything.”
Six mice in a short time had trashed the garden and exterior walls, leaving gnaw marks everywhere. A bit longer, and they’d have burrowed through.
“Insolent pests, ruining my sister’s crops!”
“The silver vine garden’s completely trashed… those precious plants…”
The flowers were spared, but stems were snapped, and roots dug up in spite.
Thankfully, I had plenty of seeds. If this hit mid-growth, silver vine might’ve gone extinct across dimensions.
Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
You think this chapter was thrilling? Wait until you read The Regressed Protagonist’s Condition Is Strange.! Click here to discover the next big twist!
Read : The Regressed Protagonist’s Condition Is Strange.
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