Chapter : 20
The Bachelor Noble Enjoys Coffee
“Master, would it be possible for me to have some coffee with the morning set?”
“Of course. I’ll prepare it right away.”
Coffee wasn’t on the menu, but the master accepted my request without hesitation.
The order was placed, but it didn’t feel right to just go back to my seat.
Besides, I was curious to see how the master would brew the coffee, so I decided to stay at the counter.
When the master turned the handle, the grinding sound—gori-gori, gari-gari—echoed through the shop.
When the beans were fully ground, he brought out a peculiar-looking instrument.
A spherical flask attached to a special stand, with a small lamp underneath for heating.
Above that was a beaker-like glass with a narrow tube extending downward—probably a funnel.
All those glass tools looked like something Ludwig the alchemist might use.
He must have modified them for coffee brewing.
Taking a kettle from the magic stove, the master poured boiling water into the flask.
After wiping the flask dry with a cloth, he set the heating lamp underneath and lit it.
He then placed a cloth filter into the funnel and added the ground coffee.
Once the water began to boil, he fitted the funnel’s tube into the flask’s mouth.
The hot water inside began to rise, moving up into the funnel.
It was a simple effect of steam pressure, but watching the water ssshhh upward was oddly fun.
The master stirred the water and coffee grounds in the funnel with a wooden spoon.
After mixing several times to let them blend, he reduced the heat and stirred again.
Eventually, he turned off the flame, and the brewed coffee began to flow back down through the tube into the flask. Only hot water and coffee grounds remained in the funnel.
Removing the funnel, he lifted the stand’s handle and poured the coffee from the flask into a cup.
White steam rose from the cup, carrying the rich fragrance of freshly brewed coffee.
“What a nice aroma.”
At my remark, the master’s expression softened slightly.
“Please, go ahead—your coffee.”
“Thank you.”
I picked up the cup resting on its saucer.
The quality was nothing like the half-remembered “fake coffee” I’d once brewed at home. There was no strange sour smell, and the color was beautiful.
After savoring the aroma, I slowly tilted the cup.
“…Delicious.”
The deep, full-bodied fragrance spread through my mouth. A perfect balance of bitterness and astringency, with a faint sweetness beneath it all.
“Thank you. It’s always nerve-racking to serve coffee to someone who’s had it before.”
Hearing my reaction, the master spoke with a look of relief.
“Your coffee is genuinely excellent, Master—no flattery.”
Compared to what I used to drink in my previous life, it was a little rough—but that roughness gave it character.
And to think that in a country with no coffee culture, this man gathered tools, modified them, and refined the flavor through trial and error to this level…
The master was truly remarkable—worthy of respect.
“Here is your morning set.”
“Thanks.”
As I enjoyed the coffee, the master brought out my breakfast.
Just as written on the menu, the plate had perfectly toasted bread, salad, and a boiled egg.
And of course, the freshly brewed coffee beside it.
Before me sat the ideal morning meal.
Really, a morning without coffee isn’t a morning at all.
“May I ask your name, sir? There aren’t many people who appreciate coffee. My name is Lombel.”
His sudden question caught me off guard, but I didn’t mind.
“…Zilk Ruren.”
At my reply, the master—Lombel—pointed toward a small magic stove.
“Could it be… you’re a magic tool craftsman?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s an honor to have such a renowned craftsman visit my shop, Master Zilk.”
“Please, don’t make such a big deal out of it.”
Having my own invention pointed out right in front of me was a bit embarrassing.
While we were chatting lightheartedly, the café door opened.
An elderly man with white hair and glasses stepped inside.
He wore a fine brown three-piece suit and a hat, his back straight and posture elegant despite his age. His expression was calm and kind.
“Welcome. Mr. Noid, it’s been a while.”
“Indeed, Master. I finally managed to get a proper vacation from my employer.”
“Being a butler sounds like a demanding job.”
Judging by how casually they spoke, the man was clearly a regular here.
I had thought he gave off a similar aura to Gilliam—and as expected, he was a butler.
Whether he served a noble or a wealthy merchant, I couldn’t tell.
“Oh? Someone else ordered coffee besides me. How unusual. I’ll have the same, please.”
“Right away.”
The old man glanced my way curiously, then took a seat at one of the tables.
So he, too, was a coffee enthusiast.
Perhaps this café was a gathering place for oddballs who loved coffee.
Amused by that thought, I began eating my breakfast.
◆
After enjoying my morning at the café, I headed to my workshop as usual.
Responding to Tristan’s lazy greeting, I sat down at my desk.
He immediately gave me a squinty look.
“What?”
“You seem awfully cheerful today.”
His tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
I supposed it was natural. I’d canceled dinner yesterday, then showed up the next morning in a good mood—of course he’d have something to say.
I knew how he felt, but I deliberately ignored it.
I wasn’t about to be scolded over one canceled meal.
Better to act as if I didn’t care at all.
“Well, I am. Do you want to know why?”
“…No, not really.”
Tristan tried to shut down the conversation, but I continued anyway.
“The liquor I made with yesterday’s artifact turned out great—it went perfectly with fried chicken.”
“I said I didn’t want to hear it!”
“That’s not all. I woke up early, went for a walk, and found a great café. Not only do they serve a special drink, but the atmosphere’s fantastic.”
“Oh really? Where is it? Take me there next time.”
When I told him about the café, he eventually looked intrigued.
“No.”
“…”
His face went blank—expressionless like a mask—but I could tell he was irritated.
“Tristan, calm down. You know how Zilk is. Anyway, here’s a request letter for you.”
Rouge came over, holding out an envelope.
It was thick—probably stuffed with several letters. Just glancing at it made me feel tired already.
“…Who’s it from?”
“From Ms. Katarina.”
At Rouge’s cheerful reply, my face twisted instinctively.
“Oh no, not her—Katarina the Complainer!”
Tristan perked up, suddenly full of energy.
Katarina the Complainer—an enigmatic woman who regularly sent our workshop letters of complaint.
Every time I released a new magic tool, she’d send pages upon pages of criticism.
An insufferably persistent complainer.
My good mood from the morning evaporated instantly.
“Does she have nothing better to do than send complaints all the time?”
“But apparently she buys every single magic tool you make,” Rouge said.
“Yeah, she must be pretty wealthy to own all your products.”
My tools weren’t cheap. For her to buy them all meant she was either well-off or came from a good family.
“Doesn’t matter how much she buys—a complainer’s still a complainer.”
“Still, if you read her requests, she actually makes some fair points. She writes about small inconveniences in daily use and gives a female perspective, which is interesting.”
“But nine-tenths of what she writes is personal rambling, isn’t it?”
“…Well, yes.”
I had to admit—her letters sometimes included useful observations that we hadn’t noticed ourselves.
But most of her writing was filled with personal demands and biased opinions.
Sifting through all that nonsense just to find one worthwhile idea was exhausting.
“She’s not even a magic engineer, yet she writes all this as if she knows. Things like ‘make it lighter’—that’s incredibly difficult!”
Inside a magic tool, there’s no wasted space. We strip away every unnecessary function to the limit. Reducing size by even a few centimeters takes endless trial and error.
And yet this Katarina woman blithely demanded such things without any understanding. Ridiculous.
“Well, isn’t it our mission to somehow turn such ideals into reality?”
“Not mine. I make magic tools for my own sake.”
Declaring that, I dropped the envelope straight into the trash bin.
Rouge and Tristan both let out dry sighs—but I felt a little better.
