Chapter 50: A Brew of Serenity

The next day, Wishstone visited the café again.

As soon as he sat on the barstool, he commented on the scene outside.

“Quite a sight. What are those two doing?”

Through the front window, Bernell was… training the pig-bird.

Pig-Bird hopped and flapped its wings at Bernell’s commands.

“He says it’s training to strengthen a weak heart. I don’t quite get it.”

Surprisingly, Bernell had succeeded in soothing the sulky pig-bird.

When I came downstairs after dozing off under the guise of mind cultivation, they were arm in wing, Bernell stroking Pig-Bird’s plump belly buried in its feathers. I wondered if this was the Bernell I knew.

The image of a chubby baby bird and a burly man together was oddly mismatched yet endearing.

“You love Aileen, and so do I, so we’re comrades,” Bernell had said.

“Bbi bbi,” Pig-Bird replied.

“They’re both café staff, so comrades indeed,” I added.

“Your weak heart troubles Aileen. You must train to overcome any hardship,” Bernell told it.

“Pig-Bird’s still a baby. What training?” I asked.

“From today, you’ll train with me to conquer that vile snake.”

“Bbi!”

Since dawn, Bernell had been putting Pig-Bird through this regimen.

I tried to dissuade him, saying more activity would make Pig-Bird hungrier, but it was no use.

“They rely on each other and get along so well. It’s heartwarming,” Wishstone said.

“Is it…?”

Does Wishstone see beauty in everything, or has he reached some enlightened state?

“Now, shall we check on the task I gave you?” he asked.

“I tried, but I’m not sure if I did it right.”

I really tried. Not thinking about work and emptying my mind was tough.

Oddly, no guests came yesterday, which might’ve been a blessing. If they had, leaving the café to Bernell would’ve made me too anxious for cultivation.

Two staff members, yet the manager can’t rest easy? In my world, that’d mean a pay cut.

“Relax. I’ll place my hand on your back briefly,” Wishstone said.

I recalled him saying he could check my readiness.

Was touching my back part of that?

A cold, hard stone touched my back.

“You’ve worked hard as I asked. Turn around and see the result,” he said.

I turned, and a new object sat on the bar.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the Essence of Serenity. Silence gives more than you think.”

It was a tiny glass vial, about two fingers long, half-filled with shimmering golden liquid. It looked like a jewel, sparkling prettily. A cord was tied around its neck, suggesting it could be worn.

I lifted the cord and hung it around my neck. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, but I’m not sure how to use it.”

“Shall we discuss the trade? You wanted items from my dimension, right?”

“Yes, your artisans’ pottery was stunning. I’d love teacups to match our drinks.”

“I mentioned that if you give something equivalent to my dimension, an equal exchange, you can have what you want.”

“I’ve been eager to hear about this trade.”

Moving many items across dimensions causes issues, he’d said.

What could I offer his dimension?

“We need ‘liquor,’” Wishstone said.

“Liquor?”

Liquor, out of nowhere? I don’t sell alcohol at the café or know how to make it.

“Not ordinary liquor. It’s a versatile drink, essential for rituals and offerings to me.”

“If your residents can craft liquor, why me? Theirs would be better.”

“We need a special liquor only you can make here—one that connects hearts, heals, and transcends worldly ties. I want to use it to comfort my weary residents.”

His explanation went like this:

I’d seen in his dimension that residents pray and offer to Wishstone but gain little beyond solace.

His dimension is in a transitional phase. As he grows as a god, the dimension expands and strengthens, but it’s outpacing him.

Wishstone is a lesser god. The white snake’s divine presence nearly caused chaos by having two similar deities in one dimension.

Faith sustains gods. If Wishstone remains weak, he’ll mismatch his thriving dimension. A weak god can’t protect against evil deities, and if he fades, residents might doubt his existence, weakening their faith and the dimension.

“You’ll use liquor as a medium,” I said.

“Yes. After a tiring day, I want to help residents sleep soundly and give them strength for tomorrow, showing I’m watching over them.”

Not for drinking but using liquor’s properties—forgetting worries and inducing deep sleep.

As a god’s tool, it wouldn’t be typical liquor.

I recalled a story of a god sprinkling liquor on a sick person, who awoke healed after dreaming. Wishstone’s use would be similar.

This way, he can show care without appearing directly.

“I understand your intent. But I don’t know how to make liquor. It needs long fermentation and yeast, right?”

“Use the Essence of Serenity,” he said.

“Oh?” I picked up the vial around my neck.

This makes liquor? That’s why he said I needed to prepare.

“The Essence holds the time you’ve cultivated through serenity. That amount can make about two casks.”

He asked me to turn my back briefly.

“Done.”

A rectangular stone tablet with carved text appeared on the bar.

Client: Wishstone

Item Requested: 1 Cask of Sweet Fruit Liquor

Reward: 1 Set of Teacups

Deadline: Until Completed

It hit me instantly.

Special order!

In management SNG games, special orders aren’t regular tasks. They take time but offer high rewards.

I’d done proxy gaming jobs, maintaining accounts while employers traveled. They stressed never missing weekly special orders.

“I’ll take this request!”

So this is equal exchange. It’s like Wishstone unlocked new content.

“No rush, no matter how long it takes. Make the liquor slowly,” he said.

I’ll start today.

Wishstone drank a jewel berry smoothie and left.

“They’re still at it,” I noted.

Pig-Bird was still being rigorously trained by Bernell.

I knew from experience how tough and relentless his training was.

“Bernell,” I called.

He looked at me instantly.

“You called?”

“Can you help me?”

He dropped everything and entered the café.

Pig-Bird, thrilled with the break, flopped down, panting.

It looked pitiful, so I decided to make it cloudmilk later.

“Your brother will help with anything. What do you need?” Bernell said.

He loves when I ask for help.

Maybe that’s why, though I dislike relying on others, I find it easier with him.

“Do you know how to make liquor?”

“I know the basics,” he replied.

Good thing Bernell knows the process.