"Welcome to Moonbrew Café. What can I get you?" I asked with all the fake cheer of a guy slowly losing his will to live.
"One cappuccino and one toast," the customer said.
Simple order. The kind that doesn't make me hate humanity. I nodded. "Coming right up, sir."
I handed over the tray a few minutes later.
"Thanks," he said.
I forced a smile. "You're welcome."
And then I sighed.
You know the kind of sigh that carries the weight of broken dreams and unpaid rent? Yeah. That kind.
"Bro…" Jin's hand landed on my shoulder. "Are you okay? You look like a rejected K-drama side character who just got dumped."
"I'm fine," I muttered. "Just let me wallow in peace."
I sighed again.
Inner Me:
I miss Elena. I miss her tiny giggles, the way she calls me "Papa" like I'm some kind of superhero…
And I miss that psycho dragon—wait, I mean Erza.
Yeah. The terrifyingly gorgeous, emotionally constipated queen of chaos who somehow became the mother of my child.
I let out a long, tired sigh. The kind that screams "I need a break, a vacation, and possibly therapy."
What the hell am I even doing here washing dishes in a café?
Maybe I should just save up, open my own restaurant. Something small. Family-friendly.
A place where I can actually spend time with Elena… watch her grow up… maybe not get yelled at by my boss every five minutes.
And if the stars align…
If the universe decides to cut me some slack…
Maybe—just maybe—Erza and I could… you know…
Erza and I could… you know.
Get back together.
Or at least do the thing that accidentally made us parents last time.
Hehehehe.
…Nope. Bad brain. Stop.
That's when it happened.
I felt it.
The Aura.
That spine-tingling moment you get in anime when the villain appears behind the protagonist and the screen turns purple and dramatic?
Yeah. That.
Then—
SMACK.
"OW! WHAT THE—?!"
"Do you have a death wish?!" a voice thundered in my ear as someone yanked it like they were trying to tune into a radio station from hell.
I turned slowly.
There she was.
My boss.
My personal demon.
The High Priestess of Pain and Passive Aggression.
"What did I even do?!" I cried, still clutching my ear.
"If you've got time to space out, you've got time to scrub dishes! Move your lazy butt!"
"Why am I always the target?! Jin's slacking too!"
I turned, ready to sell him out. But—
He was mopping.
Gracefully.
Like a cleaning angel descending from heaven. There was sparkle. Actual sparkle. I swear I heard classical music.
"Oh dearest Boss," he said, spinning the mop like it was a lightsaber of cleanliness. "Forgive me. I was so engrossed in making our café shine for our lovely customers, I didn't even notice you."
He bowed.
He actually bowed.
My boss gasped like she'd just seen the final episode of her favorite K-drama.
"Oh, Jin… such passion! Such commitment! You truly care about this café."
I stared, deadpan.
Lady, he flirts with every customer that breathes and once used the blender to make protein shakes during a rush hour.
She turned to me. "You. Learn from him. You've got one hour. I want those dishes so clean I can see my reflection in them—and I better look fabulous."
"…Yes, boss."
She strutted away, heels clicking like the sound of doom.
I glared at Jin.
He winked. "Timing, bro. It's all about timing."
I flipped him off with the grace of a man defeated by mop-based betrayal.
And then, I marched into the kitchen.
To face my true nemesis.
The Dish Pile.
Towering. Greasy. Smelling vaguely of despair and tuna melt.
This is my life now.
A tragic comedy.
Starring me.
And this mountain of dishes.
I was elbow-deep in dishes, scrubbing away the sins of a thousand sandwiches, when Jin walked in with that look on his face—the one that always meant trouble or gossip. Usually both.
"Hey," he said casually, leaning on the counter like he wasn't about to drop a bomb. "You heard the news about Araon Muru?"
I paused, the sponge frozen mid-scrub.
"Araon Muru?" I repeated, already feeling my blood pressure spike. "Yeah, I know that fucking bastard. What now? He still alive?"
Jin blinked. "Bro… what do you mean? Of course he's alive. But dude's career? Gone. Like, poof. After the kid incident? He's basically in hell now. Canceled. Blacklisted. Nobody wants to touch him."
I clenched the plate in my hand. My jaw tightened.
"How can someone like him be so cruel? Trying to kill a child... Dammit. That guy's a rotten bastard."
My vision blurred with rage. That flashback played on loop—the one where he staged that "accident," that dirty trick aiming for my little girl.
Elena.
I growled, low and quiet. "Good. I hope he dies before he ever stands in front of me."
Jin raised an eyebrow. "Whoa, dude. You're acting like your kid was his target or something. Chill."
I stiffened.
Shit.
I said too much.
"It… is," I muttered under my breath.
"What?"
"N-Nothing," I backpedaled quickly. "Just… forget it. I was thinking about something else."
Jin gave me a side-eye, but didn't press. He's not dumb, just polite.
I turned my focus back to the dishes, but my thoughts were spiraling.
I should've killed him when I had the chance.
That smug face.
That fake smile on TV.
And behind it? A monster who tried to take Elena and Erza from me.
How dare he?
My hands trembled in the soapy water.
If he ever comes near her again—
No.
There won't be a second time.
"I wonder what Araon Muru's doing right now," Jin mused, leaning against the counter with that playful smirk.
I shot him a glance, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Maybe he's already dying."
Jin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on, don't be so cold."
But I couldn't help it. I couldn't even pretend to feel sympathy for someone like him.
(Araon's Mansion ):
Meanwhile, in a mansion far from the comforting scent of coffee and clean dishes, Araon sat hunched on the edge of his bed,
clutching a pillow like a child afraid of monsters under the bed. But in his case, the monster was already inside him.
His eyes were sunken, hollow. His skin pale and clammy. He looked more like a ghost than a man—haunted, broken, rotting from the inside out.
A knock echoed against the door.
"Boss," came a voice from the hallway. "I'm coming in."
The door creaked open, letting in the only light—the cold glow of the hallway. Araon didn't move. He just stared at the floor, barely blinking.
Allen, his secretary, stepped in. Clean suit. Calm face. A devil behind polite skin.
"We got rejected again," Allen said, tone flat.
Araon's body jolted. In one sudden motion, he grabbed a nearby beer bottle and hurled it across the room.
It shattered against the wall, glass spraying across the carpet.
"You IDIOT!" Araon screamed. "Why did you try to kill that child?!" Araon shouted, voice trembling with rage and desperation. "I told you to focus on her, keep an eye on her, but you pushed child! Now look at me—my career, my life... ruined!"
Allen stood there, unaffected by the outburst. He didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled—a thin, cruel smile that sent a chill crawling down Araon's spine.
"I did it for you, Boss," Allen said softly, each word dripping with something dark, something ancient. "Everything I do, I do for you. All of it."
Araon blinked, confused for a moment. His heart beat faster, his thoughts jumbled. But Allen was right in front of him now, his presence suffocating, filling the room like an unholy fog.
He stepped closer.
And in the dim light, his eyes—no longer human—glowed red.
Araon shrank back, trembling, clutching his head. "No… no, it wasn't supposed to be like this…"
"You're suffering," Allen said softly, "because of him."
"Yuuta Kounari."
"You're suffering because of him," Allen whispered, voice low, seductive. "Yuuta Kounari."
The name was a blade.
Yuuta Kounari.
The one who had ruined everything. The one who had stolen it all from Araon. His status, his fame, his future. He had been crushed by Yuuta's hands without even realizing it.
"He made you weak," Allen continued, voice almost hypnotic. "He took everything from you. But now, we can take it all back. We can destroy him."
Araon's hands shook, fingers digging into his scalp as if trying to claw the thoughts from his mind. His face twisted in agony, his body convulsing with a mixture of rage and fear.
A sudden flash of memory hit him. Erza. The plot. That filthy child.
That bastard Yuuta.
And Elena.
Erza who tried to kill me and Yuuta who grab collar infront of Public. Araon's blood boiled.
"Yes," Araon muttered, his voice low, trembling. "Yes, it's his fault. All of it. He ruined me."
Allen's smile turned cold, predatory.
"I knew you'd come around, Boss," he purred, taking another step closer. His presence was suffocating now, every inch of him radiating power. "And now that you understand… we can make him pay. We can take his family from him. We can break him."
Allen's eyes flared brighter, the red glow intensifying until they seemed to burn with an otherworldly fire. His grin spread wider, showing too many teeth.
Then, his laugh came.
It was soft at first, a low chuckle that crawled beneath Araon's skin. But soon, it grew louder. Twisted. A laugh that echoed like the cackling of something pure evil.
"Ahhhahahahahahahahahahahaha!" Allen's voice rang out, growing louder with each passing second.
Outside, a flash of lightning tore through the sky. A violent crack of thunder followed, shaking the windows of the mansion as if the heavens themselves were protesting.
The light from the storm briefly illuminated Allen's face—and in that moment, he was no longer human.
The shadows behind him twisted, stretched, and morphed into something grotesque. A silhouette that looked like a demon.
A devil.
Araon's blood turned cold, and he scrambled backward on the bed, his breath shallow, choking.
Allen's shadow grew longer, wider, until it consumed the room. It was no longer just a secretary.
It was something more.
Something darker.
Allen looked down at Araon, his eyes glowing with an unholy fire.
"It's all for the great plan," Allen whispered, his voice a promise of destruction.
And the laughter continued.
To be continue...
(End of chapter)
Bonus scence
Elena tilted her head, her big eyes full of curiosity. "Papa, what's a power stone?"
I paused, blinking a little. Where did she even hear about that? "Oh, well, it's kind of like a vote or a way people show support for a story. It helps us get more attention and makes the story more popular."
Her eyes sparkled. "Wow, that's so cool! But... why do we have so few?"
I scratched the back of my neck, a little embarrassed. "Power stones are pretty rare. There are tons of stories out there, so not everyone can give them. We just need to be careful when we use them."
"So, we can't ask people for them?" Elena asked, looking a little confused.
I shook my head with a smile. "Exactly. People give them to us if they really like our story. Sometimes, they'll say thank you for the support."
Elena: "Papa… I need a Power Stone…"
(her eyes big and teary, voice trembling like she just dropped her ice cream)
Yuuta: "Elena, sweetie, we can't just ask for that. It's up to the readers, you know."
Elena: "But they love me! Right?"
(she sniffles dramatically, wiping her tears with her dragon tail like it's a tissue)
Yuuta: (sweating nervously, turns to the fourth wall)
"Uhh… dear readers… please? Look at this face. You wouldn't let a half-dragon daughter cry, would you?"