From the edge of a tall cliff, I looked out over a vast, unfamiliar world. To my right stood a distant kingdom, encircled by high stone walls, much like the ones I'd only seen in medieval fantasy films. The city was far off, yet visible—its silhouette soft under the rising sun.
To my left, a small village came into view. Modest homes, smoke rising gently from chimneys, and the distant sound of clanging tools hinted at life.
"I guess I'll start there," I muttered to myself, stepping back from the edge. "Maybe I can ask around and figure out what I'm supposed to do next."
Floating beside me, the little glowing orb with wings—my strange celestial companion—bobbed happily as I turned. "By the way," I asked it, "which part of this world are we in exactly?"
"We're in the lowest tier of Estrotia," it chirped, spinning midair like an excited child. "And that's perfect for what you want—to open your own coffee shop!"
"Right... and since this world runs on magic, does that mean there are different types of creatures living here too?"
"Exactly! The lower realm of Estrotia is divided into five kingdoms: Vior, Lunar, Besta, Fori, and Mirka." As it explained, a translucent hologram appeared in the air, like a magical CCTV map, showing the layout of the continent.
"The kingdom you're seeing over there is Vior—home to humans gifted with magical abilities." It spun around again, clearly enjoying itself.
"What about the second tier?" I looked up instinctively, trying to spot floating islands or a different layer of the world, but the sky was empty.
"You can't see the middle and upper realms with your eyes," it said, giggling. "They're cloaked in magic. But don't worry! Now that you've transcended worlds, you'll be able to see them soon enough! Hihi~"
"Doesn't look like it," I said, squinting at the sky.
"Wait—didn't Kami-sama grant you a divine blessing? You should be able to use it!"
"Huh? I don't feel anything. Nothing's changed." I gave the little orb a skeptical look.
"Ohhh... right. I forgot to show you how to activate it—tee hee!" it said, scratching the back of its nonexistent head with a sparkle of embarrassment.
I narrowed my eyes. Somehow, it wasn't hard to believe this creature messed up its paperwork and accidentally guided me to an early death.
"Just say the word 'Status', and your information will appear!" it added while zipping around like a hummingbird.
I sighed, then gave it a try.
"Status."
...Beep.
A shimmering screen blinked into existence before me.
Name: Leon
Race: Human ☆
Class: 10th-Ranked Core Alchemist
Titles: Transcender, Brewmaster
[Unique Skills]
• Dimensional Shop & Storage – Grants access to infinite space connected to a pocket dimension.
• Dimensional Brew Café – Summons a fully equipped portable café anywhere in the world.
[Daily Life Affinity Skills]
• Brewing Mastery Lv. ☆ – Enhances all beverage-based creations with magical properties.
• Espresso Artistry Lv. ☆ – Increases customer satisfaction; grants temporary buffs based on espresso intensity.
• Latte Art Technique Lv. ☆ – Creates morale-boosting designs; heals emotional fatigue.
• Mixologist Lv. ☆ – Allows the crafting of magical cocktails with effects ranging from courage boosts to sleep resistance.
I stared blankly at the screen, unsure what most of it meant—except for the "daily life" skills. Those were oddly... familiar.
The glowing orb peered at my status window, gasping in excitement.
"Eeeeh!? You don't even need to build a physical coffee shop! You can summon it anywhere you want! Kami-sama is really kind!" It bounced up and down, flying excitedly in circles.
My eyes widened at what it said.
"How do I summon the coffee shop?" I asked.
"Based on what's written in your status window, just say 'Open Brew,'" it replied uncertainly.
I walked around, searching for a good spot to test it out. Raising my hands, I pointed them at the ground.
"Open Brew!"
The words felt awkward coming from me, but suddenly, the ground beneath me lit up. Strange symbols appeared—circles interlaced with mysterious glyphs I couldn't decipher. Two large circles in the center connected and then separated, revealing a familiar shape in a burst of light.
My heart raced with joy. A small coffee shop had materialized from the glow. I studied it carefully and stepped closer.
Inside, accompanied by the orb, I found equipment that felt oddly familiar.
An espresso machine sat prominently on the counter, with ceramic mugs of various colors and sizes arranged neatly on top. Two coffee grinders and a blender stood nearby. A pour-over setup for v60 brewing was arranged to the side. Shelves displayed a variety of roasted beans, categorized by their origins and flavor profiles. Matcha powder was also on display.
I stepped into the U-shaped workstation. An ice machine hummed quietly, and rows of flavored syrups, purees, and sauces were lined up in order. At the end of the counter stood a small freezer filled with different flavored ice creams perfect for frappes. Opening the cabinets revealed extra stock—powders, plates, and utensils. On the opposite side, a cash register gleamed softly.
Tears welled up as I took it all in. The orb floated beside me.
"Leon, it looks like we don't need to search for coffee beans anymore. Everything is here," it said, a hint of disappointment in its voice.
I remembered how it wanted to help me search for coffee beans in this world before we arrived. I looked at it and smiled.
"Do you have a name?" I asked gently.
"Nepooh," it answered.
"Well then, Nepooh," I said, extending my hands like a barista greeting a guest, "would you like something to drink?"
It froze for a moment, then slowly shaped itself into a small humanoid figure. About the height of a child, the glowing light faded to reveal a girl with gentle green eyes and chestnut hair falling to her chest. She wore a white dress embroidered with delicate white flowers, looking like a doll. Her expression was innocent and fragile, like fine porcelain.
She placed her small hands into mine, beaming up at me with an innocent smile, a carefree grin stretching from ear to ear.
"I'd love a matcha frappe, hihihi~"
I chuckled.
"Coming right up."
— — — —
I headed to the working area and began preparing what I needed for Nepooh's matcha frappe. This coffee shop didn't rely on electricity—it ran on magic, or so Nepooh claimed. According to her, the entire place was powered by mana. She was perched on a stool across from the counter, nose buried in a novel, but I could tell she was excited. She said she'd seen this drink once in a commercial back in my world.
I placed the warm chawan on the tray, letting the steam curl softly from its rim. The bowl was simple—off-white, with a crackled glaze—but I liked how it made the green of the matcha pop.
From a small tin, I scooped out exactly 2 grams of ceremonial-grade matcha using my chashaku. The powder clung to the curved bamboo like fine moss on stone. I tapped it gently into the bowl, letting it settle like pale snow.
Seventy milliliters. Eighty degrees. I poured the water carefully, watching it spiral through the powder. If it was too hot, it would burn the flavor. Too cold, and I'd lose the mellow umami I was after.
I reached for my chasen—the bamboo whisk I'd grown used to, like a quiet companion. I held it upright, just enough for the tips to touch the surface.
Then I began.
Chasen-zuri. The motion came instinctively now.
Quick, precise strokes. A zigzag rhythm—like drawing M's across the bowl. Not stirring. Not swirling. Just the brush and the bowl, the whisper of bamboo on ceramic.
Bubbles rose. The froth thickened, lush and creamy. The matcha bloomed into something soft, alive, and quiet.
I slowed my wrist. The final strokes settled the foam into stillness.
And then I paused.
Perfect.
Then I set the chawan aside and reached for the blender. No switches or wires—just mana conductors, etched faintly into the marble base.
I poured in 10 milliliters of vanilla syrup, its scent soft and sweet. From the freezer, I scooped out exactly 150 grams of vanilla ice cream—dense, creamy, already beginning to sweat in the warmth of the shop. Into the blender it went, followed by 30 milliliters of chilled milk, measured with practiced ease.
Next was the matcha I had just prepared, its surface still faintly shimmering. I tilted the bowl and let it slide in, the thick foam folding gently into the mixture.
Five ice cubes. Enough for texture, not so much it would dull the flavor.
I secured the lid and brought the pitcher to the base. It clicked into place—a soft mechanical hum stirred beneath the surface of the counter as the mana flowed in. I set it to High Mode, eighteen seconds.
The familiar sound of blending filled the space. A low roar, punctuated by the crackling of ice breaking down into the mix. While it worked, I pulled a 16-ounce plastic cup from the stack and drizzled a swirl of matcha sauce I'd made earlier along the inner walls—just enough to catch the eye.
The whipped cream was ready too, still firm from the ice bath.
When the blender came to a stop, I removed the lid and poured the frappe into the cup. A soft aroma rose—earthy matcha, smooth vanilla. It smelled like balance.
Like something from a quiet spring morning in Uji.
I crowned it with a generous swirl of whipped cream, then dusted a pinch of matcha powder in a slow circle over the top. A dome lid sealed it, and I brought it over to Nepooh.
She stopped reading.
Her eyes lit up the moment she saw it. She reached out, took the cup gently in both hands, and slid the straw in with care. One sip—and I saw it in her gaze.
For a second, she wasn't here.
She was there—where matcha leaves were grown by hand, under woven bamboo shades. Where the air was filled with mountain mist, and everything tasted like memory.
— — — —
I could still hear the squeaky sound of her straw as I rinsed the tools I had just used to make her Matcha Frappe. She hadn't said a word the whole time she was drinking—but as soon as she slurped down the last bit of it, she let out a soft breath and turned toward me, eyes sparkling, cheeks tinged pink.
"Leon… what kind of magic did you put in that drink?" she asked, smiling wide, practically glowing. "That was amazing! I've never tasted anything like it."
I glanced over my shoulder, still drying the matcha whisk and the pitcher. "Huh? You literally watched the whole process."
She tilted her head, clearly confused. "I did, but I didn't understand a single thing you were doing. What were all those tools?"
Ah… right. I almost forgot. Nepooh wasn't exactly from here. Or anywhere normal, for that matter. A child of the heavens, she called herself. Whatever that really meant.
"No magic," I said with a small grin. "Just technique. And a little hard work. I used to be a barista, remember? Owned my own coffee shop back in my world. Plus… I still don't even know how to use the blessing Kamisama gave me properly."
Nepooh puffed up her chest proudly, raising a fist near her face like she'd practiced the pose in a mirror. "Then I shall be your guide in this world! Leave it to me, Leon!"
I chuckled and gave in. "Yeah, yeah. Here, try this too."
I passed her a small bowl of chocolate ice cream drizzled with dark syrup. Her eyes sparkled again, and she clapped her hands once before diving in with the spoon. She didn't even wait for it to melt a little.
For a moment, I just watched her eat—content, carefree, and so out of place in this unfamiliar world. Then I sighed.
"We've got a bit of a problem," I muttered.
She looked up with a mouthful. "Mmf? Wha' prowmem?"
"I just checked the system a minute ago. Turns out the coffee shop skill I got—it's got a time limit. Eight hours of uptime, followed by an eight-hour cooldown."
She tilted her head. "That sounds like a long time, though?"
"Maybe. But where do we sleep?" I said plainly. "I checked the register. Empty. No money, no income. We need to sell coffee just to survive in this world."
She blinked. "Oooh…"
"Which means," I leaned forward, meeting her eyes, "you're going to be my waitress."
Her spoon paused mid-air. Slowly, she turned to me, wide-eyed. "Ehhhhhh?!"
Not loud, but full of disbelief. Almost like the sound of a balloon slowly deflating.
I gave her a firm nod. "I'm serious. I'll handle the brewing. You handle the customers."
"But… what's a 'waitress'?" she asked, blinking rapidly.
Another sigh escaped me.
This was going to be a long day.