Yokai Come to the Countryside Café

Chapter 2: First Sale

"That building up ahead, Toad Realty? The boss there is a bit greedy for money, but he’s not the type to scam people or anything."

"Toad Realty? Ah, Kyungsoo’s old real estate office? That rascal Kyungsoo’s a local born and raised, but since he couldn’t make a living, the neighbors felt sorry for him and entrusted all their rooms to him. Now that he’s doing a bit better, I heard he even sent his kid to Dangsari Branch School over there. You know, one of those schools rich folks send their kids to."

"He’s kind of a jerk, but not a bad person. Hoho, don’t tell anyone I said that! Especially don’t say you heard it at the beauty salon!"

That was the reputation of the realtor that I managed to gather through what little could be called background research.

Though calling it research was a stretch—it was really just casually asking around while buying snacks like fruit or puffed rice at nearby stores.

Considering how suspiciously cheap the property was, it was hard to trust someone who slashed the price by 40 million won the moment I hesitated.

That’s why my reply agreeing to the purchase didn’t include a date. I needed at least a day to investigate the reputation of Toad Realty and pull the documents necessary before buying the building.

Anything more would be an inconvenience to the other party.

Whether one runs a business or works a job, time is money, after all.

The legwork I put in to investigate Toad Realty’s reputation turned out surprisingly positive.

I even learned more than I wanted to—like how his son was lucky enough to get into one of those elite schools, and how he used to be the self-proclaimed alley boss but always lost to the stationery shop owner's grandson from the next village.

After compiling everything, the result of much deliberation was in my hands—two documents.

『Land Register』, 『General Building Register』

My dream of owning a house had come true in such an anticlimactic way.

Well, good fortune is good fortune.

I’d luckily gotten my hands on a cheap building and land. It wasn’t some shady listing with hidden problems.

Once the dazed feeling began to fade, a swell of emotion washed over me—the overwhelming joy that I finally had a home.

I remembered coworkers who’d won apartment lotteries talking about wanting to frame their property documents. I’d thought it was just a joke at the time, but now that I’d bought a place myself, I could understand the sentiment.

Of course, this wasn’t some high-demand apartment in the metro area where prices skyrocketed—it was the kind of house that made people say, “You’d be better off spending that money elsewhere.” Worse yet, it was a poorly maintained countryside home.

But I wasn’t too worried. In fact, it was the opposite.

Ending up in a countryside home, something I never planned for, felt like an adventure to someone like me, stuck in a monotonous loop of work and home.

And this wasn’t just any adventure.

“Ahh, this is nice.”

Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, I lounged lazily at the seat by the café window I had wanted so much.

I hadn’t cleared out this café, which had been operating until just a few days ago.

I even left the random trinkets on the counter that seemed like they could’ve just been thrown away.

The realtor—who truly resembled a toad—had given me a business card for a waste disposal company, but that was out of the question.

Strictly speaking, it was almost as if I bought this place just to enjoy this spot.

If I told anyone that, they’d probably say I was creatively insane.

But it was true.

Though a bit old and worn, the café was, with just a hint of exaggeration, spotless.

Not even when a division commander visited the base during my service did we clean that thoroughly.

Under the chairs, next to the counter, even the hard-to-reach corner of the storage room.

As if it could reopen for business any minute—everything, from utensils to coffee and even ingredients in the fridge, was still within expiration.

So I decided to leave it all as is. Actually, this café was the goal from the start.

And the spoils weren’t limited to just utensils and ingredients.

【How to Make Yummy Dabang Coffee】

I found a notebook in the kitchen.

The kind elementary students use, with space at the bottom of the cover to write grade, class, and name.

The yellowed paper was filled with surprisingly detailed recipes.

『Coffee

Grandpas: two-two-two + tiny speck of powdered creamer + little water

Grandmas: two-two-two + tiny speck of powdered creamer + lots of water

Middle-aged men: three-three-two + tiny speck of powdered creamer + lots of water

Young ladies: two-two-one + tiny speck of powdered creamer + little water

Kids...』

Was it written out to avoid forgetting with age?

Though full of spelling errors, the neatly printed letters had no corrections or cross-outs.

And since it was placed neatly where one might make coffee, I thought it must be important and tried to return it by calling the realtor. But the only reply was that all furnishings were left behind.

-Sniff.

Thanks to that, I was now enjoying authentic dabang coffee I never thought I’d get to taste.

At 32, an awkward age, I even found myself pondering whether I should follow the recipe for middle-aged men or young men—this coffee was utterly satisfying.

It was still early morning and already my third cup.

Was this what it felt like to secretly peek at a secret recipe even the daughter-in-law wouldn’t be told?

The flavor was on a completely different level from the huge liter-sized americanos I used to chug to stay awake at work.

I’d taken a roundabout path, but I’d finally achieved my dream.

Warm sunlight, a vintage table without the slightest unpleasant stickiness, and a humble dream worth a hundred million won—all paired with a cup of coffee.

While I was leisurely enjoying this weekend morning coffee,

-Ding-a-ling.

The chime on the door rang, and I looked toward the entrance without thinking.

There stood a young man.

Early twenties? Mid-twenties? I couldn’t tell, but his face seemed around that age.

Tall, with striking features that could shame even some celebrities.

But his good looks weren’t the issue.

The problem was the traditional hanbok-style clothes that didn’t suit his sharp face, the fox ears on his head, and the fluffy tail.

I desperately hoped he was a famous cosplayer or that there was a cosplay event nearby. Please, let it be that.

Otherwise, it meant a guy with fox ears and a tail just walked into my house in broad daylight.

“How can I help you?”

"I came by car."

"Excuse me?"

A truly refreshingly crazy person had appeared.

Even I, who bought an entire café building just because I liked the window seat, couldn’t bring myself to hand him a business card.

"Why are you just standing there gaping? Hurry and bring me some coffee."

I briefly wondered what on earth I should say to make him leave, but before I could respond, the man walked confidently over and sat in the central seat, even ordering what he wanted to eat.

Since the café wasn’t operating anymore, I could simply tell him to leave.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

The man was waiting for coffee with an expression that suggested he had no idea the café had shut down. I couldn’t bring myself to drive him out.

Wasn’t he clearly someone mentally unwell?

It seemed the previous café owner hadn’t turned away this sick young man either.

Once that thought occurred to me, my tangled emotions settled, and a wave of pity washed over me.

"Please wait a moment."

Right, there was still plenty of coffee left. Offering him a cup wouldn’t hurt. Not that I left the utensils for that reason, but still.

I entered the kitchen and reheated the now-cooled water in the kettle.

Let’s see… the young man’s recipe was three-three-three with lots of water, right?

The coffee I was drinking was the middle-aged man’s version(?).

In this countryside village where young people were rare, even men in their forties were still called bachelors. But still, drinking the youth’s blend felt oddly guilty.

So this was my first time trying the youth’s coffee recipe.

The youth coffee, prepared for someone else for the first time, was made hesitantly, following the recipe.

On a wooden tray, an ivory-toned coffee cup and a small teaspoon.

-Clink.

I placed the coffee cup on the table, assuming this was how they’d probably served it before.

"Oh ho."

The sick young man exclaimed and wiggled his ears, burying his nose in the coffee cup and sniffing it eagerly.

Those ears—I’d seen something like them on YouTube before.

The headband-type ears that moved according to a person’s emotions.

The world had really come a long way, I’d thought, amazed by the strange gadgets. But it was my first time seeing someone actually wear one.

Still, seeing how happy he looked, I didn’t think he was a bad person. I felt glad I hadn’t sent him away and had given him the coffee instead.

But now what?

I hadn’t thought out what to do after serving the coffee.

I gave him the coffee out of pity, seeing that he didn’t even know the café had closed.

Once he seemed done, I would have to tell him not to come again since the café was no longer open—but would he even listen?

I had never met anyone quite this crazy before.

The casual tone, the historical drama-like speech—whether it was a bit or his true personality, it was overwhelming all the same.

Still, I should say something, right?

"Huh? Where’d he go?"

He was gone.

Just moments ago, he had been drinking coffee and causing a scene!

I hadn’t even heard the chime from the entrance, but the strange young man was nowhere to be found, and on the seat he had occupied was an empty coffee cup and a thick bundle of cash.

A bundle of 50,000-won notes.

"This is bad."

I had ended up extorting coffee money from a sick young man.

At an unlicensed café, no less—and for nearly five million won!

If this made the news, I’d be cursed like a serial killer in the comment section.

I quickly grabbed the bundle of money and the car key and ran out the door.

Damn it, I should’ve just kicked him out and sprinkled salt or something instead of sticking my nose where it didn’t belong!

* * *

At the same time, not far from Jinseong’s café, a sudden gust of wind surged inside a luxury sedan.

-Whoosh.

All the windows were closed, so wind shouldn’t have been able to enter, but it not only shook the car lightly—it made the graying hair of the middle-aged man in the driver’s seat flutter violently.

However, the middle-aged man showed no sign of surprise. Instead, he looked into the rearview mirror and asked politely,

"How was it, Elder?"

"That old hag was right. It’s exactly the same taste as before."

"I’m glad to hear that."

"What? You’re pleased because now we don’t have to look for another Coffee Shop? Weren’t you the one who insisted on doing it yourself instead of sending your subordinates?"

"Haha, these days, assigning such errands to staff can cause big problems."

"Hmph, it’s not like I asked you to bring me a human head. What’s the big deal? Aren’t you busy with government affairs yourself? If you overwork while you’re young, you’ll break down when you’re older."

"You’re the only one who calls me young, Elder. More importantly, it seems you were quite pleased with the new Coffee Shop owner. You didn’t even suggest going elsewhere."

"Pleased? That brat was staring straight at me with a face that said ‘please leave’ and still managed to serve me. Tsk! Kids these days have no manners."

Apparently dissatisfied with the service he’d just received, the youth pulled out a long smoking pipe from the wide sleeve of his hanbok robe.

"What are you doing? Why haven’t we left yet?"

Usually, the subordinate would have picked up on the cue and started driving, but now he wasn’t even moving to turn the ignition.

The elder tilted his head.

But the middle-aged man, who had claimed to be involved in government work, stuttered as he asked a different question instead.

"E-Elder. Are you saying he looked you straight in the eye?"

"Yes… Ha! That cheeky rascal!"

‘Damn that old hag, what kind of person did she stick in there?!’