Chapter : 30
The Bachelor Visits a Café
Having crafted my own manual and automatic coffee mills, I headed to Rondel’s café the next morning.
“Welcome,”
Rondel’s calm voice echoed, and I took a seat at the counter.
Normally, I would order a morning set with coffee, but today I had another matter to attend to.
“Master, do you have a moment?”
“What is it?”
“I made my own coffee mill. If you don’t mind, could you try using it and tell me your thoughts?”
“Oh, this is wonderful. It’s much more compact than the one I made.”
I placed both the manual and automatic mills on the counter, and Rondel picked them up with interest.
“Oh? But this one doesn’t have a handle?”
“That one’s enchanted—it has a mechanism that allows the blades to rotate automatically.”
“…I see.”
Hearing about the automatic mill, Rondel’s expression grew serious.
“The fun of grinding coffee is minimal, but it has the advantage of producing a consistently flavored brew in large quantities.”
“Exactly as you say, Mr. Zilch. For serving many people, the current mill would be insufficient. I understand.”
After I explained the significance of it as a magical tool, Rondel seemed to accept it.
I could understand why someone who had spent so long grinding coffee manually might find an automatic mill a bit uninspiring.
“The joy of making it is reduced, but those who want that kind of fun can use a regular mill.”
Everyone has their own way of enjoying things. Some like drinking coffee but don’t enjoy making it themselves. Others might love grinding coffee so much they can’t resist. Each person can use it according to their preference.
“May I take a look inside?”
“Sure. Open this lid and remove the screws, and you can take it apart.”
After I briefly explained the disassembly process, Rondel immediately understood and took it apart.
As expected of someone who has made their own mills before, he grasped the basic structure.
Though size and design may differ, the components inside don’t change much.
“Impressive, Mr. Zilch. It’s more refined than what I made. And it looks like the grind level can be adjusted precisely.”
“What are your honest thoughts?”
“I won’t know until I grind, but I think the blade material should be changed.”
“Why is that?”
“The metal you’re using here is Silvanium, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Silvanium is a metal in this world that has sufficient hardness, heat resistance, and is easy to work with, making it very convenient to use.
“Silvanium isn’t bad, but over many years, it tends to transfer a metallic odor to the coffee beans.”
“I see.”
I hadn’t considered the odor transfer. It seems long-term use could have that effect.
“What about the blades in your mill…? Never mind.”
I was curious about what material Rondel used, but it wouldn’t be polite to ask him outright.
Just hearing the downside of using Silvanium was enough; asking for more details would be presumptuous.
“The blades in my mill are made from processed Silverwolf claws.”
“…Really?”
I was surprised he would tell me the material he used.
“I’m very interested in the coffee mills you make, Mr. Zilch. If my knowledge can help improve them, I’ll gladly lend my assistance. I want coffee to become more popular even in the royal capital.”
“Master… thank you.”
“No, it’s nothing. I’m happy to help.”
“I’d also like to hear your experience using it. Could you make some coffee with this?”
“Of course. I’d be happy to.”
Rondel smiled warmly, picked up the manual mill, and began grinding the beans.
I was grateful for Rondel’s generous spirit.
I had thought the enjoyment of the coffee mill was something I could have alone, but if Rondel wished to share it, I could try to spread it as well.
“Hello.”
As I was thinking this, the door opened, and a familiar elderly man entered.
I believe he was the butler named Noid, who had visited here before.
Today, too, he wore a perfectly tailored, wrinkle-free three-piece suit.
“Welcome, Mr. Noid.”
“You’re grinding beans with a different tool today. Is this a new creation of Mr. Rondel’s?”
“No, this one was made by a customer…”
When Rondel looked toward me, Noid also turned his gaze.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Noid. May I ask your name?”
“Zilch Rulen.”
“Rulen… could you be the eldest son of the Rulen family, the famous artificer in the royal capital?”
“That’s correct.”
As expected of a butler, he seemed well-informed.
“Is this a magical tool you made?”
“No, Rondel’s is a normal tool; this one here is the magical version.”
“It’s smaller than Rondel’s.”
“It’s made to be portable. Although it’s still a prototype…”
“…If it’s not too much trouble, may I try coffee made with your mill, Mr. Zilch?”
“I don’t mind…”
Rondel looked slightly troubled by Noid’s request.
“If he’s fine with it, then so be it. But I can’t guarantee it will taste as good as usual.”
“That’s fine,” Noid said cheerfully.
Rondel began making coffee, carefully warning that he couldn’t guarantee the flavor of a prototype.
The sound of beans being crushed—gari-gari, gori-gori—filled the café.
The sound was a bit lighter than my own mill, probably due to differences in materials and weight.
Rondel’s rhythm in turning the handle was a little slower than mine.
I thought he might struggle because it was different from his usual mill, but glancing at him, he seemed completely at ease. He simply worked at a slower pace.
Perhaps this rhythm was the secret to making delicious coffee. Next time, I’ll try mimicking Rondel’s slower rhythm when grinding.
Rondel opened the lid and carefully checked the grind.
A person who had faced coffee beans for years, even decades, could make anyone nervous when they checked so meticulously.
Watching with a little tension, my coffee made with my mill was finally ready.
