Chapter 30: Late Openings and New Insights

The café opened later than usual.
After a quick prep, I opened the door, and the thunderbird swooped in as if waiting.

“Wow, the exterior’s changed a lot! It suits Baby Bird Café perfectly—like a building shaped after the sacred bird itself.”
Maybe his perspective differed, or he just linked the white walls to the pig-bird’s snowy fur.

“There’s even a fence around the garden.”
“Yeah, about that…”

I brewed silver vine tea for the thunderbird and recounted last night’s events.

“Hmm, quite a tale. Good thing it ended well. Lucky you have a living ward by your side. As you suspected, those were evil god minions.”
“As I thought…”

Bernell sat on a nearby stool, listening intently as the thunderbird spoke of evil gods.

“But it’s strange,” the thunderbird said, stroking its chin with a wing, expression grave.
“This place’s presence rank has grown—I feel its existence more clearly than before. But it’s still too low to catch an evil god’s eye.”

“Really? Now that you mention it…”
“Yes, the Causality here makes it tempting, but not that tempting.”

The thunderbird flapped its wings, adding, “It’s like food. It needs a delicious aroma to whet the appetite. Starving evil gods prowl dimensions, drooling over tastier scents. They’re too busy to hunt down a modest place like this.”
“Modest…”
It wasn’t wrong, so I nodded.

“They’re preoccupied with flashier targets guarded by powerful gods. Unless they’re strong enough to challenge those, they might sniff out smaller places like this, but…”
So, the café’s faint presence made it an unlikely target—comforting news. I’d been anxious with each presence rank increase, but the thunderbird’s words eased my fears.

It glanced around. “Speaking of, I don’t see them today.”
“Them? Oh, the Nekomatas. Catsy hasn’t brought them in a while—two or three days?”

Like the thunderbird, Catsy usually arrived early with her kittens, but not today.
“Hmm…”
Sipping tea, the thunderbird looked pensive.

“Perhaps…”
Setting the cup down carefully, it voiced its conclusion.
“They might be the cause.”
“Catsy and the Nekomatas caused the minions’ attack?”

“Yes. Cats and mice, right? Hohol.”
It clicked. Catsy and the Nekomatas were unmistakably feline, tied to the cat deity lineage.

“Mice are prey to cats—their natural enemies. Even rivals. Of course, a grand deity like me has no natural foes, but some relationships are bound by such laws.”
The thunderbird preened proudly. No natural enemies? As a bird deity, surely something out there was its match, like cats to mice.

“If the minions are mice, their master is likely a rat-related evil god. They might’ve been spying on or tailing the cat deities and stumbled upon your café. When the cats stopped visiting, they seized the chance to strike.”
“That’s… serious. But Catsy left an idol here. Didn’t you say idols mark a deity’s territory? Why didn’t it deter them?”

I glanced at the display shelf. Catsy’s yarn ball idol sat prominently.
Cats outrank mice—they eat them. Logically, her idol should’ve scared the mice off.

“Their rivalry backfired. Evil gods aren’t normal. A regular deity would steer clear, but to an evil god, it might’ve sparked rage or destruction.”
“So what do I do?”

If Catsy’s idol caused trouble, should I remove it? But her high status brought more benefits.
“You know idols signify a deity’s protection. Mine’s here too. I didn’t sense the intrusion until you told me, meaning it wasn’t severe enough to need my power. The attack failed, after all. Hohol.”

Idols were like divine CCTV.
“But if a real problem arises—one requiring my aid—my idol will activate. Same for Catsy’s. If she despises rats, she might rush here the moment she senses them.”

The thunderbird eyed Catsy’s yarn ball.
“Her absence these past days, especially post-attack, suggests she’s busy. Still, she’d step in before the café collapses.”

“I won’t let it collapse.”
The thunderbird chuckled, finishing its tea, claiming it was a joke.

Next to Catsy’s idol was Yakumyodosa’s.
If trouble hit, would he help? A deity of his caliber could trivialize most evil god invasions.
He hadn’t returned since his first visit. Satisfied enough to leave an idol, but no interest in coming back? I worried he’d forgotten the café.

“When Catsy visits, mention the rat-related evil god. For them to target a place this modest shows obsession. She might already suspect who’s behind it.”
I missed the Nekomatas’ lively chaos today.

“Tell her everything! She gave you an idol and trusts you with her precious kittens—she clearly favors you. Ask, and she might wipe them out.”
Imagining myself tattling to Catsy felt embarrassing, but the thunderbird’s advice was valuable. I served extra silver vine tea, partly to keep it longer for protection and partly to ease my worry about more mice. Whether it knew my intent or not, it chirped happily with each refill.

As the thunderbird left, the Young Blue Sage arrived, almost swapping places. Less reliable than the thunderbird as a child-type deity, but still a full god—stronger than Bernell.
I told him about the invasion.

“Good heavens! Are you alright, milady? You must’ve been terrified!”
The pig-bird, which had slept soundly in my bed, was much calmer now. Earlier, it perched on the second-floor railing, too scared to come down, thinking upstairs was safer. With Bernell’s help, it finally descended.

“I was shaken. It was its first encounter with evil god-related things.”
“Your tender heart worries me. I hope this place grows strong enough to keep you safe without my concern.”

He chided me, the weakest here, as the café’s owner.
My low level was the root issue.

“You said rats? Those critters cause trouble everywhere, gnawing holes.”
“Yeah, they’re pests.”

“My master once spoke of an evil god that bores holes across dimensions, harassing their guardians—like holes in a wall. Thought to be banished, it hides in dimensional rat-holes, resurfacing to torment deities.”
“That’s horrifying.”
Boring holes in dimensions?

A question struck me.
“Are rats generally evil gods?”
“Not so. My master had a friend, Baekhon, a pure and noble rat deity. His presence alone purifies and brings fortune. Form doesn’t dictate good or evil. Sharpen your eyes to see essence, milady.”

“Wise advice, thank you.”
See the essence…

The pig-bird still feared going outside, so I fed it cloud milk fruit indoors, in its nest. The Young Blue Sage watched with delight, praising its hearty eating.
Like with the thunderbird, I kept his cloud milk refilled to delay his departure. But, citing concern for the pig-bird, he left on schedule, unlike the freer thunderbird.

Click.
After the deities left, I grabbed jewel berries from the fridge.
Hoping to attract new guests, I planned to make more juice and smoothies.
The mice’s damage made berries scarce. I’d have to stretch supplies until the bushes regrew.

As I finished the drinks, proud of my improved speed, I sensed movement outside.
Through the open door, someone stood.
“Hello? Anyone there?”

A new guest had finally arrived.