Chapter 8: A Divine Burden and a Growing Shop

Was this some kind of revenge for charging too much for the tea?
The pig-bird’s unwavering stare since I arrived here felt a bit overwhelming. Guilt aside, business and personal matters were separate.
This shop felt a tad small to handle the pig-bird’s massive bulk.
Like when Yama visited, it already seemed cramped.

“Uh… I’ve never raised an animal… or any living creature, for that matter.”

“The sacred bird isn’t high-maintenance! It’s still a chick, so it won’t even shed feathers yet.”

“But won’t the other birds from its home miss it? Shouldn’t it go back…?”

“It’s fine. Another sacred bird will be born.”

“Plus, I heard it needs Cloudmilk Fruit for every meal until it matures, and as you saw, the tree hasn’t even borne fruit yet…”

“It’ll bear fruit soon. The sacred bird will take care of its own dish.”

Take care of its dish? It starved itself to death because it missed me!
No matter how I protested, the Thunderbird showed no sign of backing down.

The pig-bird, meanwhile, seemed to have decided it was staying, plopping down inside the shop. Its hefty rear took up at least a third of the floor, or so it felt.
I tried nudging it, but it stuck like glue, clinging to me even more eagerly.

“By the way, what’s this about the sacred bird turning into an evil spirit?”

“It’s a demigod now, but when fully grown, it’ll be a proper lesser god.”
I didn’t mishear, did I? A god?

“But if it grows with betrayal, bitter sorrow, and cold resentment as its foundation, it’s obvious it’ll go astray. It’ll wander dimensions or time rifts, wreaking havoc and plundering. Oh, what a tragic future!”

“…”
The Thunderbird dramatically wiped away invisible tears with its wing.

“If only Mr. Kong had reached out warmly… Even if you failed at first, if you’d taken up the role of its imprinted parent properly, it wouldn’t have come to this…”

“Pwee.”

I finally raised my hands in surrender to the Thunderbird’s cunning tactics.
I could ignore my conscience to some extent, but the mention of parenting hit me like a ton of bricks.
If I raise it poorly, it’ll go astray…

“Yoon-ah, I need to talk to you about something.”
“What’s wrong? Is it about Dad again?”

A bitter memory surfaced and faded quickly.

“Alright. I’ll do my duty. Since I was there when it hatched, it must be fate. I’ll raise it well. It seems to understand me, so it might be easier than raising a regular animal.”

“Pwee-pwee!”

“Excellent choice, Mr. Kong!”
At my words, the pig-bird charged again, burying me in its fur before I could resist.
Spitting out the fluff clogging my nose and mouth, I peeled it off as it whimpered pitifully.

“Okay, if you’re living here, there are rules. First, never go behind the bar where I work.”
That’s where I’d store ingredients like Silverwing Herbs for drink-making. No way I’d let a fluffball near them.

“Second, when you’re in the shop, you stay there. Lingering here blocks the path for customers.”
I pointed to the corner where I slept, a makeshift bed of piled-up old fabrics from the shop. It was once a table spot, but I’d thrown out the worn furniture, leaving it empty.

“Pwee…”
The pig-bird’s cries grew softer.

“Ahem, rules are necessary for living together,” the Thunderbird chimed in, sealing the deal.
Reluctantly, the pig-bird dragged its drooping wings and waddled to the corner.

Seeing its pitiful state, I couldn’t help but pull out one Causality unit. Next to my bed, I created a nest for it, like the one I’d seen in its room: a giant wooden basket stuffed with pastel cushions.

“Pwee-pwee!”
The pig-bird, spotting the nest, flapped its tiny wings in joy and settled its massive body inside.
It looked like an oversized, ugly stuffed toy, blending into the café’s vibe without ruining it.
Plus, I wouldn’t feel as lonely in the shop anymore.

“You’re quite kind, Mr. Kong, using Causality to make a nest for the sacred bird.”

“Not having a place to sleep at home is pretty sad. I just… provided the bare minimum.”
With only one Causality left, the unexpected expense left a bitter taste.

“Now that the sacred bird’s settled, I’ll take my leave.”

“No tea before you go?”
The Thunderbird’s eyes welled up dramatically, staring at me.

“The aroma of Silverwing Herb Tea filling the shop makes me want to order right now!”

“But…?”

“Sadly, I haven’t gathered enough Causality to pay for it.”
Its voice dripped with regret, more than when I’d resisted taking the pig-bird.

“With the sacred bird born, I could’ve gathered Causality quickly by boosting faith among my dimension’s residents, but… this happened.”

“So that’s how you generate Causality.”
Faith, huh… This world is impossible to fully grasp.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t made a menu board yet. Charging such high prices every time isn’t sustainable, so I need proper pricing.”
I eyed the bar, the first thing customers see when entering.
Estimating the spot, I pulled out my last Causality.
A menu board was something I’d need eventually, so I shouldn’t feel too bad.

Flutter.
Pointing, the orb flew and created a black-framed standing sign at waist height.
Oddly, the blank board had several rectangular slots, sized perfectly for my transparent cards. Testing, I placed a card in one.

Scritch, scritch.
White chalk began writing where the card touched.

[Silverwing Herb Tea: (Price)]

“Aha, so that’s how it works. One cup for one Causality.”
As I spoke, the price filled in.

“What? Only one Causality for a cup of tea?”
The Thunderbird jumped, shocked, but its voice carried a hint of glee.
It must have at least one Causality.

“There’s a condition. This price applies to returning customers. Gotta treat regulars better, right?”

Scritch, scritch.
The condition appeared at the top of the board:
[Price applies to returning customers.]

“Oh? That’s how it is? I’m touched!”
The Thunderbird eagerly pulled out a Causality unit.

Lowering the price was strategic. With plenty of ingredients, supply wasn’t an issue—demand was.
If, as the Thunderbird said, gathering Causality slowed their visits, I’d be stuck with ingredients but no income.
‘With all my Causality spent, even one unit is precious.’
Lowering prices to make the Thunderbird a regular was the better deal.

“One Silverwing Herb Tea, please!”
It promptly claimed a stool at the bar, urging me on.

“Yes, sir. Order received.”
I quickly brewed the tea and served it.

“Oh! The aroma’s richer, and… slurp… the taste is even better! What magic did you weave into this tea? It’s divine! One Causality is a steal, but I’m glad I can drink this often now.”
The A-grade Completion clearly made a difference.

“By the way, what’s that over there?”
Sipping leisurely, the Thunderbird pointed at the shelf where I’d displayed Yama’s cup.

“Another customer already? For them to leave such an impressive idol, your tea must’ve been exceptional.”

“Idol?”

“Yes, an object a god imbues with their presence. It’s like marking this shop as their territory.”

“…”

“Seeing it makes me jealous! I’ll have to make my own idol to place here soon. I found this shop first!”
Marking my shop as territory?
The Thunderbird spoke like it was a big deal, but it felt unsettling.

“Pardon, but what benefit does an idol bring to the shop?”
It reacted as if I’d asked what Causality was, like I’d missed basic knowledge.

“Of course, you’re still new and don’t know much.”
Staring at the olive-green cup, it continued.

“An idol means this shop is under that god’s protection. Only gods of a certain rank, like me, can do such a bold thing.”
That sparked curiosity about what “rank” meant and how it was determined.

“It’s a warning. Cause trouble in their claimed shop, and they won’t let it slide. Lower-ranked or hostile gods will tread carefully, while friendly ones will be more amicable.”
Hearing this, the cup I’d dismissed as creepy now looked like a security camera.

“But if a low-ranking god does it, it backfires. They might be seen as weak and ignored.”
A powerless entity’s influence wouldn’t hold weight.

“I had no idea. It didn’t feel like they gave it with such grand intent.”

“From its aura, it’s not a god I associate with. Anyway, seeing you manage so well without me proves you’re naturally gifted at this. You might return to your original dimension sooner than I expected.”

“That’d be great. Thanks for the useful info. Here’s a complimentary cup—want another?”

“I’d love that!”
As I refilled the Thunderbird’s empty cup, I pondered.
Evil spirits, destruction, plundering, territory marking, influence, hostile and friendly relations…
These keywords swirled in my head, leading to a conclusion.

‘Is this shop… really safe?’
A bad feeling crept in that life here might not stay peaceful.