When the last piece of spicy beef tendon and the fluffy egg-wrapped rice entered her mouth together, the tired office lady's late-night feast ca to an end.
Shizuka Hiratsuka, whom Ren knew only as the alcohol-loving teacher, looked at Ren, who was reading calmly behind the counter. Her face was flushed with a satisfied, slightly tipsy glow.
"It was absolutely delicious," she said with a smile that reached her eyes. "I never imagined I'd be so lucky to stumble upon this place today~. It feels like a dream."
Ren shook his head, closing his book. "For custors, finding a favorite food is luck. But for a shopkeeper, every arriving guest is the shopkeeper's luck~. It is a mutual exchange."
The woman laughed softly. "Shopkeeper, you really are soone who makes people feel a sense of friendship. You have a silver tongue."
"Custors and the Shopkeeper are friends, and friends get a discount on their al~. Isn't that good?"
"Of course it's good~. So, Shopkeeper, how much is it in total? Don't undercharge too much, or I'll feel guilty."
"1500~."
The woman paused, her hand freezing on her wallet. She looked up in disbelief. "How much?!"
"One thousand five hundred Japanese Yen~."
She looked at the empty dishes in front of her. High-quality Omurice, three exquisite side dishes including beef tendon, and a flask of premium Junmai Ginjo sake that tasted like flowers.
"Shopkeeper… is this the normal price or a 'friend's special price' that bankrupts the store?" she asked blankly.
Ren smiled and leaned forward. "That question... Everyone who cos here is a friend. So naturally, it's a friend's special price. However, the friend's special price actually isn't much different from the real price. I own the building, I source my own ingredients. My overhead is low."
This table of dishes couldn't be called expensive, but it certainly wasn't cheap in any other establishnt in Tokyo. Just this pot of wine alone would cost 1500 yen in an Izakaya.
The woman put down the money, shaking her head in wonder. "Well then, Shopkeeper, I'll be back here again. You can't get rid of now. By the way... my colleagues all call Shizuka."
(Ren raised an eyebrow internally. Shizuka? A pseudonym? Or is she just drunk? But he didn't press.)
"See you next ti, Shizuka-san!"
Watching "Shizuka" leave with a much lighter step than when she arrived, Ren thought for a mont. "In a way, judging by the na and the vibe, she seems like a very kind person~. Though she definitely needs more sleep."
After tidying up the dishes, Ren looked out the window. The faint blue of dawn was beginning to appear in the sky, signaling the end of his "business hours."
He stretched, hearing his spine crack satisfyingly. "Looks like that's it for tonight… Eh?!"
Just as he was about to flip the sign, the door glowed again.
"Today's custors seem to be a bit nurous… Is there a convention for insomniacs?"
As soon as Ren finished speaking, the door opened. But this ti, the light wasn't just from the streetlamps. A soft, magical luminescence seed to cling to the visitor.
An old man walked in.
He was tall and thin, with silver hair and a beard so long they could be tucked into his belt. He wore long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles, and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.
He surveyed his surroundings with an air of polite curiosity, not fear.
Ren stood up, recognizing the aura of imnse power hidden beneath the eccentric appearance. "Elderly sir, you…"
The old man paused, sniffing the air. "There's the aroma of delicious food here… traces of savory broth and sweet wine. This is a Restaurant, right?"
Ren nodded. "Welco."
The old man looked around the wooden interior, noting the modern lights and the clean counter. "This is truly a very warm place. May I stay for a al? I seem to have taken a wrong turn on my way to the kitchens."
Ren smiled professionally. "Of course~. And you can order anyti. As long as the ingredients are available, I can make any dish you desire."
The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Confident words. Confident people have good luck. However, I haven't seen the architectural style of your place before. It feels... distant. Not bad, mind you~."
Ren looked at the old man and decided to be direct. "That's right, this is Another World. In other words, you ca to my shop through a dinsional portal. This place should be different from your world, Hogwarts or otherwise."
The old man paused. He adjusted his glasses, looking at Ren with renewed interest. He pulled out a wand—no, he just tapped his chin.
"Praise rlin!" he exclaid softly. "This is a miracle… This is simply an unparalleled magic~. To think a door in the castle could lead so far..."
Ren paused, then asked, "Elderly sir, you are..."
The old man interrupted Ren with a raise of his hand. "Young Shopkeeper, I'm not that old yet. Age is but a number, though my knees might disagree. You can call Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore!"
Ren nodded, masking his internal surprise. The Albus Dumbledore. "Alright, Mr. Dumbledore. Are you also from a world with magic?"
Albus Dumbledore nodded, taking a seat. "That's right. In our world, we have many people who can use magic, but we're not called magicians, but wizards. Although in so ways, it's similar. Have any other... practitioners visited your place?"
Ren nodded. "Quite a few. Just before, a powerful magic-wielding girl with a katana left—a Saint, I believe. And there's also a mage who is currently imprisoned in his world~. Yesterday, a gentleman skilled in card magic also visited."
Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard. "That's good. Diversity is the spice of life. But why would a magician be trapped in a cage? A dark wizard?"
"That's due to the political situation in his country. They fear magic there. It's a long story. But he will eventually gain his freedom~. So, Mr. Dumbledore, what would you like to eat? I assu you didn't co just for information."
Albus Dumbledore thought for a mont. "Since this is Another World, there shouldn't be any magical ingredients from our side. In that case, I shall stick to the classics. Please prepare so... raspberry jam. And lemon juice. Bread. And a broth to warm the bones."
Ren smiled, recognizing the Headmaster's famous sweet tooth. "Mr. Dumbledore seems to have a sweet tooth~. Sherbet lemons, perhaps? But are just jam and lemon juice alright for a al?"
Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "I said I'm not that old yet, but my tastes are simple. If possible, I'd like the lemon juice chilled. I enjoy a sharp sensation."
Ren nodded. "Then please wait a mont. It will be ready soon."
Albus Dumbledore nodded without saying anything further. After Ren left for the kitchen, Dumbledore began to carefully observe his surroundings. He took out his wand—the Elder Wand—and gave it a small wave. Nothing happened. The magic of the shop was absolute.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "Neutral ground."
Although the shop wasn't very large, it gave Albus Dumbledore an unprecedented feeling of relaxation. The heavy burden of the upcoming war, the prophecy, and the boy... it all felt lighter here.
"Hmm~ This shop is really nice…"
As soon as Albus Dumbledore finished speaking, Ren walked over, carrying a tray. On it was a small, silver-white jar and a black ceramic plate with so small, round items.
Albus Dumbledore was slightly stunned as he looked at the items Ren placed before him.
"Young man," Dumbledore asked, puzzled. "Didn't I order bread? This looks like a biscuit in any world, doesn't it?"
Ren smiled and explained, "Yes, the bread is still baking. Fresh bread takes ti. But fresh jam should naturally be tasted imdiately, otherwise the anticipation goes to waste. After thinking about it, I chose biscuits as an appetizer. These are just ordinary snack biscuits, neutral in flavor, enough to tide you over until the bread is ready."
Albus Dumbledore nodded slowly. "A thoughtful design. I appreciate the efficiency."
After Ren left to check the oven, Albus Dumbledore looked at the biscuits in front of him. He moved his long fingers, picking up the jar. He opened the lid.
Pop.
A fresh, intense scent of raspberries wafted out—sweet, tart, and reminding him of sumr days at the Burrow. Dumbledore's hooked nose couldn't help but take two sniffs.
"A little... Hmm~. This lody of scent... it's a good jar of jam..."
He picked up a biscuit. He used a small spoon to cover it in a generous layer of the purplish-red jam. A hint of anticipation flashed in his blue eyes.
Crunch.
After a crisp sound, Albus Dumbledore's calm eyes behind his glasses widened slightly.
He chewed. The biscuit was buttery and crisp, but the jam...
"This... this... this is indeed raspberry, but this texture and taste are..."
It wasn't cloyingly sweet. It had the brightness of fresh fruit, with the seeds strained out, leaving only the essence. There was a hint of lemon zest in it too.
"rlin's beard! What a delicious jam! It could be called a work of art! It rivals the Honeydukes' finest!"
Albus Dumbledore had absolutely no idea that in Another World, he would taste a flavor he had only dread of. He was used to pumpkin juice and treacle tarts, but this simple purity was different.
Albus Dumbledore at this mont was like a bear encountering honey. He abandoned his usual dignity. He held a biscuit in one hand and the jar in the other, scooping jam with each biscuit, and every now and then letting out exclamations of delight.
In the kitchen, Ren, who was mixing the lemon juice with soda water, smiled and shook his head.
"He really does love sweets," Ren mused. "Such a powerful wizard, yet so easily pleased by sugar. Such a custor is quite interesting."
[Akarin's Note: Albus Dumbledore has arrived. With the Headmaster here, do you think the chaos level will rise? Or maybe he just wants to avoid paperwork?]
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