Chapter 7: A Divine Encounter and a New Responsibility

I placed a teacup on a tray and served the Dried Silverwing Herb Tea.

“Here’s your Dried Silverwing Herb Tea.”

My experience as a server came in handy, letting me move with some finesse.
After carefully setting down the cup, I returned to my spot and watched the guest closely.

‘What’s going to happen? What if they don’t like it and flip the table? I just got that table…’
The guest, who’d been staring at the tea, finally moved.
Black smoke extended from their body, wrapping around the cup and lifting it toward what I assumed was their face.

‘Oh… they’re drinking it. They drank it!’
It felt like watching a wary stray cat finally approach a bowl of food.

‘Good, they’re drinking quietly. My choice was right, and the table’s safe.’
The guest took their time sipping the tea. When they finally set the cup down, a new entry appeared on the transparent card, stunning me.

Flash!

[Effect: Temporarily reverses the consumer’s good-evil alignment.
Rating: (+1)
[Yama: … ★★★★★]
Preferred Customer Type: (Special) Reaper-Type]

Reversing good-evil alignment? Without further explanation, I could only guess it meant good people turn bad and vice versa.
The card revealed the guest’s name: Yama, likely a god managing a dimension.

‘A god, sure, but a reaper god? Does that mean their dimension is… like hell?’
I worried I’d let in something I shouldn’t have.

While I checked the card, Yama, having finished the tea, stood and approached me.

“I’ll pay the price.”

“Oh, you’re ready to settle?”
Knowing their identity made me a bit nervous, and my voice softened.

“Before that.”
A tendril of black smoke extended from Yama, pointing at the empty cup.

“I’d like that cup… reserved for my exclusive use.”
It sounded like they planned to return.
Without seeing their expression, I couldn’t tell if they loved the cup or had ulterior motives.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll set it aside so no other customers use it and serve your drinks in it when you visit.”

“In return, I’ll grant you another cup of the same design. Use it for others or keep it—it’s up to you.”
Black smoke detached from Yama, coalescing on the bar into an identical olive-green cup.

Seeing it form, I vowed never to serve it to anyone else.
Even if it looked the same, a cup made from mysterious smoke felt unsettling.

“I’ll treasure the gift you’ve given me.”
Thinking it’d be best as a display piece, I noticed the empty shelf at the bar’s end.
Perfect for a cup like this. Placing it there, a strange black shimmer rippled from it before fading, confirming my decision to never use it for drinks.

“Now, for the payment. What do you require?”
The Thunderbird had told me to always ask for Causality.

“Causality, please.”
I expected them to ask how much, but Yama calculated it themselves, handing over a staggering five units of Causality.
My heart raced as my hands filled with glowing orbs.

The Thunderbird gave me three units, saying it was their limit.
Yet this god casually gave five—could Yama be even greater than the Thunderbird?

“Thank you for your effort.”
Seeming to consider the five units sufficient, Yama turned to leave.

Unlike the Thunderbird, no extra ingredients came with the payment, which was a bit disappointing, but the Causality was more than enough.
‘Don’t get greedy, especially with a god.’

As Yama opened the door, the black ox outside let out a low moo, accompanied by the bell’s jingle.

“Thank you. Come again.”
I gave a cheerful farewell as they dissolved into smoke and slipped out, but got no response.
I hadn’t expected one, so I just watched them vanish, wondering how they came and went.

Once Yama was gone, I stepped out from behind the bar.
With the Thunderbird’s three units and Yama’s five, I had six Causality units total.
Compared to having just three, I felt ready to invest more in the shop.

“If more customers come, this rundown interior won’t do.”
It was time to renovate the shop, which had been left in near-closing condition.

“One for the windows…”
Pointing at the broken, discarded window frames, I sent a Causality orb. It fluttered over, and the ugly frames and tattered curtains vanished, replaced by a full glass wall.
Most cafes I knew had large windows facing the street, so I went with what I knew.
It was a simple choice, but the open, airy feel proved it was right.

“Might as well go modern… and fix the floor.”
When I decided to replace the rickety wooden floorboards, two Causality units were consumed unexpectedly.

“Whoa! Was it because of the large area?”
Too late for regrets.
The orb had already transformed the floor into grey ceramic tiles with a crisscross pattern. The dull, rotting wood was gone, and the shop instantly felt brighter.

They say changing the floor and walls can completely transform a space.
With three units spent, the shop looked so sleek it was hard to imagine its former state.

‘Of the three remaining units, I’ll save two and use one to fix the door that doesn’t close properly.’
Considering large guests like Yama, I envisioned a bigger double door.
Sending an orb toward the door, it materialized as a sturdy iron double door, in a darker grey to match the floor, with an arched glass panel at face height for visibility.

“I’m getting the hang of this.”
It felt like decorating a shop in a management game, transforming it with a few taps.

“No more customers seem to be coming today. Should I call it a day?”
I tidied the table Yama used and the bar, then went to bed earlier than usual.

One thing I hadn’t considered during the renovation was ventilation.
With only two customers so far, the drinks’ aromas had been escaping outside to lure them in.
I had no choice but to throw both doors wide open.

“Hmm, this isn’t bad. It really feels like the shop’s open.”
I checked the garden and the fruit tree early, prepped ingredients, and brewed tea to attract customers.
With time to spare, I experimented with different cups to boost Completion.

After testing, I realized none of the shop’s cups could further enhance Silverwing Herb Tea’s Completion.
Despite the variety, not one offered a bonus.

“I thought I could hit A+. What a shame… Is A the highest? No S-grade?”
Staring at the card in disappointment, I sensed movement outside.

A familiar face—and an unexpected one—arrived.

“Well, the shop’s looking bright! New door, and—oh! You replaced the window with a full glass wall! Bold move.”

“Pwee!”

“Wait, isn’t that the pig… I mean, the sacred bird?”
It was the Thunderbird, dressed in a purple suit, and the plump, fluffy pig-bird, looking ready to roll away.

The pig-bird charged into the shop, crying wildly upon seeing me.

“Stop!”
I’d just renovated with Causality. If it broke anything, no amount of cuteness would save it.

“Pwee-pwee!”
Sobbing but obedient, it halted just before crashing into the bar, staring at me longingly.

“Tch, tch, as expected…”
The Thunderbird strolled in leisurely, clicking its tongue.

“I saw the Cloudmilk Fruit tree thriving outside. I hadn’t realized you took a Cloudmilk Fruit. You managed to bring it back well.”

“Is it… not allowed to be taken out?”

“No, it’s fine! It’s a rare tree grown only in my dimension for this little sacred bird, but you’ve got it growing here.”
I really lucked out.

“If I’d known you took a Cloudmilk Fruit, I’d have stopped you for other reasons. I thought it couldn’t grow outside my dimension, but seeing it bloom here shocked me. You have a special talent, Mr. Kong.”

I just dug a hole, planted it, and watered it occasionally, so I felt sheepish.

“Since you got the fruit, you must’ve met this sacred bird… and its refusal to eat, leading to its demise, was because it imprinted on you.”

“What? Wait, I think I misheard. Its demise? You mean… the sacred bird died?”

“Pwee-pwee.”
The pig-bird, as fluffy and lively as when I first saw it, showed no trace of death.

“Tch, tch… poor little thing…”
But the Thunderbird insisted it was dead.
I couldn’t believe it.

“The sacred bird dies if it doesn’t eat Cloudmilk Fruit for three days. Its small body holds immense divine power, which must be neutralized by the fruit until it adapts.”

“But it’s right here!”

“Its longing to see its imprinted parent caused its divine power to form a vessel, with its soul inside. That’s what you’re seeing.”

“…”

“The source of that divine power is me. In a way, divine power isn’t much different from the Causality you know.”
The god’s versatile authority and Causality, which could create or change anything here, were somewhat similar.

Guilt kept me from looking at the pig-bird.
It thought I was its parent due to imprinting, and I’d cruelly abandoned it.

“You were eating those fruits so well… How could you stop just because I was gone?”

“Pwee.”

“So, I’m entrusting the sacred bird to you from now on.”

“Huh… what?”

“It’s essentially a walking lump of Causality, needing special care, but I can’t keep hauling it around. My wings are still sore from bringing it here.”
The Thunderbird casually massaged its wings while dropping this bombshell.

“You want me to take care of it?”

“Yes. You wouldn’t abandon a sacred bird that became a demigod out of longing for you, would you? If left alone, its sorrow could turn it into an evil spirit.”

“Pwee!”