Menu no.27 - New Customer

I began preparing the V60 coffee she ordered, my hands moving almost on their own. Grinding the beans, setting the metal dripper—custom-made by Mitrovic the blacksmith through Kazuha’s introduction—then placing the filter carefully. As hot water slowly streamed over the grounds, a soft, rich aroma filled the air, mixing with the scent of rain seeping through the old wooden walls.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” I said while waiting for the extraction to finish. “Do you live around here? I’ve never seen you before. My name is Daiki.”

“I know,” she replied casually.

I froze for half a second.

Eh?

She tilted her head slightly, the white masquerade mask reflecting the dim lantern light. When she smiled, I caught a glimpse of sharp teeth—too sharp. Yet somehow, she still looked… human.

“Your name is quite well-known in certain corners of the city,” she continued. “Daiki Mika. Right?”

“…That’s correct,” I answered, trying to sound calm.

“You’re wondering about my teeth, aren’t you?” she said, laughing softly. “No need to worry. I’m simply a vampire.”

Oh.

Ohhh.

A vampire. Right. Of course. That explains… everything?

“So… you’d like to order—uh—blood?” I asked before I could stop myself.

She burst out laughing, leaning forward slightly. “You’re adorable, Daiki. No, no. I don’t drink blood.”

“…I see,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I really did.

I continued pouring hot water slowly in circular motions, careful not to rush the brew. She watched intently, as if the process itself fascinated her.

“Ah, it feels unfair if only I know your name,” she said. “Allow me to introduce myself. Zoya Naberius.”

“Nice to meet you, Zoya.”

Once the coffee finished dripping, I gently removed the dripper and served the cup in front of her. Steam rose softly from the surface. From beneath her cloak, Zoya pulled out a tiny bottle—about the size of a perfume vial—and poured a few drops of a deep crimson liquid into the coffee.

My eyes widened.

That’s definitely not milk.

She lifted the cup with both hands and drank slowly, reverently—like someone savoring a long-lost memory.

I couldn’t help but stare.

Most people who drank coffee for the first time reacted immediately—surprise, bitterness, confusion. But Zoya… she looked calm. Nostalgic, even.

“Um… have you ever had V60 coffee before?” I asked.

“Hmmm…” She paused, thinking. “So this drink is called V60 coffee.”

“Yes.”

“Long ago,” she said quietly, “I drank something similar. But it was so long ago that I’d forgotten the taste. This…” She smiled beneath the mask. “It reminds me of those days.”

“I see,” I replied.

Rain suddenly grew louder, pounding against the roof and windows.

“Tell me, Daiki,” Zoya said, setting the cup down. “Have you ever considered opening a café inside a dungeon?”

“A dungeon?” I blinked. “I mean… yes, but—wait, what?”

“Your coffee is already famous,” she continued smoothly. “It would be a shame not to take advantage of that. Adventurers would flock to such a place. After all, few things soothe a weary soul like a warm drink after facing death.”

“…That does sound tempting,” I admitted.

“I may visit this café again,” she added.

“With pleasure. I’ll be waiting, Zoya.”

I glanced outside. The rain was getting heavier.

“Do you have an umbrella?” I asked. “You can borrow mine if you need it.”

“Thank you, Daiki,” she said warmly. “But I’m used to walking through rain like this.”

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from the back room.

“Oh no—!” I rushed behind the counter and found Alisa kneeling among several fallen boxes.

“I’m okay!” she said quickly, though her face was red with embarrassment.

I helped her pick everything up, carrying the boxes back into the main hall together.

But when we returned…

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

The bar seat where Zoya had been sitting was empty.

Only an elderly man remained, slowly sipping tea at the far end of the counter—the dwarf from earlier, his long beard slightly damp.

“…Where did she go?” I muttered.

“She left quietly,” the old man said without looking up. “Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“…Through the front door?” I asked.

The dwarf chuckled. “No. Same way I came in.”

“…The back door?”

“Yes.”

I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

Alisa tilted her head. “Was someone else here?”

“…A vampire,” I said.

“Oh,” Alisa replied simply. “Did she like the coffee?”

“…I think she did.”

The dwarf finished his tea and stood up, placing a few coins on the counter.

“Your drinks are interesting, boy,” he said. “This place attracts… unusual guests.”

“I’m starting to notice,” I replied.

Once he left, silence settled again.

I looked at the empty bar seat, the faint scent of coffee still lingering in the air.

A café inside a dungeon…

For some reason, the idea didn’t sound ridiculous anymore.

If anything—

It felt inevitable.