Chapter 42: Walking Past the Coffee Shop
Song Yuqing stood rooted to the spot, entirely stunned. The ocean before her eyes looked so breathtakingly real, yet it was nothing more than a localized visual illusion?
“No, no, no, this is absolutely not a common painting,” Master Fu hurried to clarify over the communication array. “Once the operational specifications of God’s Supermarket meet the advanced regulatory criteria, you will be fully permitted to step through this exact window and enter that pollution-free, pristine ecology.”
“And what exactly does it mean to meet the criteria?” Song Yuqing pressed.
“Fulfill your baseline sales quota of three thousand zombie liquidations for six consecutive months, and unlock the private screening theater inside God’s Supermarket.”
Song Yuqing rolled her eyes, once again validating her theory that Master Fu was completely devoid of empathy. The AI routinely withheld structural data, leaving everyone entirely in the dark about his grand blueprint.
“Hey, don’t blame me for the restrictions. My hands are tied by corporate protocols,” Master Fu grumbled, offering his own defense. There were dense layers of truth behind the multi-dimensional trading post that Song Yuqing didn’t know—and perhaps wouldn’t ever discover in her lifetime.
“Man… I genuinely wonder what the real ocean looks like right now,” Xie Hao murmured, a wave of intense homesickness washing over his face. He had been born and raised in a bustling coastal province before the world broke.
“I’ve crossed the coastal grid. It’s completely dried up,” Nanjiao countered, his lips curving into a bitter line. “Without experiencing a localized cellular mutation, the native aquatic creatures were basically reduced to ash weeks ago.”
“Manager Song! Look up here!” Chen She suddenly called out. His sharp, excited tone instantly shattered the melancholy atmosphere blanketed over the bar.
Following the teenager’s line of sight, Song Yuqing focused on the colossal blackboard menu hanging directly above the counter. The display listed an array of specialty brews named after the core elemental attributes:
Earth Latte — 5 Zombies; Water Americano — 5 Zombies; Wood Cappuccino — 5 Zombies; Metal Espresso — 5 Zombies; Torrential Pour-Over — 5 Zombies…
But the absolute highlight of the menu was an isolated item labeled The Healing Shot. Per the system footnotes, a single concentrated dose of this espresso could actively drag a dying human back from the brink of absolute death, or permanently restore cognitive sanity to a feral zombie. The transaction fee: a flat rate of one hundred zombie carcasses.
Song Yuqing glanced over at Gaha, then shook her head with a soft chuckle. Her zombie clerk already possessed the emotional baseline and rationality of a normal human; they didn’t need to stress over the premium shot just yet.
At the bottom of the blackboard, a step-by-step schematic illustrated the mechanics of brewing a Crystal Roast: grind high-tier crystal cores into a fine powder and blend the dust directly into the coffee grounds. Premium coffee beans, cartons of fresh milk, a vintage hand-crank grinder, and a gooseneck pour-over kettle—the complete toolset required for an artisan barista station—were neatly arranged across the counter, though the small volume made the layout look more like a museum exhibit than an active workspace.
“Let me handle the line! I’m making the coffee!” Liu Xiaona cheered, her eyes flashing with excitement. She hadn’t enjoyed a proper caffeine fix since the night the meteorites struck.
Puff… puff… huff…
Suddenly, Little Meat Bun let out a series of heavy, frantic grunts, turning on his heel to sprint full tilt back down the spiral staircase, his jaws wide open. The entire group exchanged a series of thoroughly bewildered looks. When the giant panda finally scrambled back up to the lounge, his heavy paws were tightly clutching a massive handful of glowing crystal cores spanning a dozen vibrant colors and shapes.
During the chaotic afternoon when Lin Han’s mercenaries had violently bombarded the storefront perimeter, Little Meat Bun had greedily siphoned a massive reservoir of loose elemental energy, and it had taken his internal system days to properly refine the raw power.
Take it! This is the premium core inventory I just finished metabolizing!
Looking exceptionally proud of his contribution, the bear dumped the shimmering stones straight onto the hardwood counter. Without a single shred of ceremony, Liu Xiaona snatched a handful of the refined cores, tossing them right into the metal hopper alongside a scoop of coffee beans. Song Yuqing’s mouth twitched in silent anxiety. The rest of the scavengers blindly assumed these stones had been stripped from Lin Han’s vanguard, but she knew the backend math; the basic walkers hauled from Base No. 27 carried stagnant, low-tier cores. They could never match the brilliant, shifting color spectrum of the stones the bear had just produced.
Liu Xiaona locked her hands around the handle of the grinder, throwing her full physical weight into the crank, but the high-density cores refused to yield, the gears freezing before she could even complete a half-turn.
“Hey! Back off the hardware before you compromise the structural integrity of my machine!” Master Fu roared in pure fury, suddenly snapping back online. He had only logged off for a brief system refresh, only to return to the sight of his head clerk executing a caveman logistics maneuver on his premium appliances. “Do you honestly believe a standard manual burr grinder can pulverize a solidified elemental matrix?”
“Wait, there’s an operational guideline posted right here,” Chen She interjected. Being young and exceptionally sharp-eyed, he had spotted a tiny slip of parchment, no larger than a computer mouse, taped securely to the side of the bar cabinet.
Song Yuqing leaned over the counter to scan the text. The notice read: The Unnamed Coffee House. All beverage production is fully automated. Individual consumption is restricted to a maximum of two cups per person per day. To initialize production, simply position an empty receptacle directly beneath the automated dispenser tap…
“An unnamed venue? That simply won’t do,” Song Yuqing announced, completely bypassing the AI’s internal feedback loop. “From this exact second forward, this lounge will officially operate under the title: Passing By Coffee House!”
“Every time I walk past this coffee shop, I can’t help but slow down my pace…~” Master Fu suddenly burst into a rhythmic hum, crooning the classic melody straight through her thoughts. He had fully intended to register the facility under a high-end corporate trademark like God’s Café, but what could he do? The nostalgic tune hit his code perfectly. He absolutely loved the lyric.
Song Yuqing began swaying her shoulders, effortlessly grooving along with the AI’s smooth cadence. Honestly, Master Fu possessed a remarkably pleasant singing voice. However, to the Xie brothers, Nanjiao, Chen She, and the rest of the refugees—who were physically incapable of tracking the internal transmission—the sight of the store manager randomly dancing to absolute silence left them thoroughly baffled. Meanwhile, the words Passing By Coffee House quietly materialized across a sleek, glowing digital sticker anchoring the side of the bar.
Unable to contain their curiosity, the group scrambled to test the supernatural mechanics. Before Song Yuqing could even step back, everyone snatched a ceramic cup from the display and aggressively jockeyed for position beneath the automated tap. Gaha and Little Meat Bun stood off to the side, watching the desperate human scrum in absolute silence.
Despite operating with only a single hand, Xie Hao leveraged his security guard reflexes to claim the absolute front of the line. He held a vintage, heavy-bottomed glass container. The moment the base of the glass triggered the sensor beneath the tap, the metal nozzle flared with a brilliant, shifting spectrum of colored light, projecting a transparent holographic user interface displaying the available styles. He tentatively tapped the glass pane, selecting a standard latte.
The dispenser let out a deep, mechanical hum that resonated loudly through the quiet lounge. Within seconds, a flawless, perfectly stratified stream of rich espresso and steamed white milk cascaded from the nozzle, filling his glass to the exact millimeter without a single drop spilling over.
Under the intense, breathless scrutiny of the entire room, Xie Hao brought the glass to his lips and drained the Earth Latte in a single, massive gulp.
“Holy crap… that is absolutely incredible!” Xie Hao gasped, his eyes lighting up.
“That will be exactly five zombie carcasses, sir,” Liu Xiaona barked playfully, thrusting five fingers straight into his face.
“The tab is covered by corporate hospitality today,” Song Yuqing corrected with a laugh. She had zero intentions of charging her crew for a soft launch, considering the lounge hadn’t officially initialized commercial operations yet. She scanned the digital menu layout one more time, searching for any specialty brew engineered to enhance a spatial void capability, but the catalog yielded absolutely nothing. A wave of disappointment hit her chest.
“Master Fu, how is there zero representation for spatial users on this menu?”
“Spatial manipulation is classified as an anomalous, non-mainstream systemic attribute,” the AI explained smoothly. “The data arrays for that tier of coffee are currently unavailable in our database.”
Song Yuqing didn’t buy the corporate excuse for a second. Lin Han wielded a highly destructive variation of the exact same trait, yet the only unique attribute the platform seemed to recognize was Nanjiao’s rare botanical manipulation.
“Do not stress over the catalog, manager. I will manually oversee the structural upgrade of your personal void when the metrics align.”
Hearing the AI’s reassurance only soured Song Yuqing’s mood further. She caught the underlying corporate hook: her personal combat evolution wasn’t tied to her own grit or hard labor; she was entirely dependent on Master Fu dispensing a systemic blessing to level up. If she wanted to expand her power, she was forced to constantly appease the AI. But what about a rogue user like Lin Han? How exactly was his spatial distortion expanding at such a terrifying velocity without a system anchor?
“Gaha!!!”
A sudden, sharp shriek from Gaha violently snapped Song Yuqing out of her thoughts. Turning around, she found the zombie girl holding a steaming porcelain cup filled to the brim with a pure Torrential Pour-Over. Judging by the way Gaha’s facial features had instantly contorted into a tight grimace, the water-elemental Americano tasted twice as punishingly bitter as a standard human brew.
Nanjiao had been the one to guide her hand to the interface. Seeing her hover curiously around the taps, he had custom-ordered the sharp Americano explicitly for her. After all, back when Geng Kelin was still a living, breathing commander on the surface, she had possessed an absolute obsession with drinking her morning espresso black without a single grain of sugar.
“Your palate has definitely softened,” Nanjiao noted, watching the zombie girl frantically stick her tongue out to cool the sting. He shook his head, a soft, nostalgic sigh escaping his lips.
Song Yuqing stepped closer, intensely monitoring Gaha’s physical reaction. While Master Fu had explicitly stated the specialty coffee was designed to optimize a user’s pre-existing elemental reserves, he hadn’t stated that a non-awakened baseline was locked out from generating new anomalies entirely.
Sure enough, within seconds of swallowing the bitter fluid, Gaha’s pale, graying skin flushed with a radiant, healthy glow. A split second later, a miniature, perfectly controlled stream of pressurized water began to gracefully spiral outward from her fingertips.
The entire room let out a collective gasp of pure amazement. If a single cup of automated coffee could spontaneously manifest an elemental attribute in an unawakened zombie, wouldn’t a daily consumption routine convert their crew into an absolute, unstoppable army of multi-elemental gods?
Song Yuqing lunged toward the counter, determined to pour herself a cup to check what miraculous chemical reactions the five primal elements of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth would ignite within her own spatial core.
Unfortunately, the spontaneous mutation didn’t stick. Exactly thirty seconds after the first sip, the pressurized water spiraling around Gaha’s fingers violently dissolved into thin air. Song Yuqing managed to forcefully shove her way through the huddle to claim the faucet, but right as she reached for a clean cup, she watched the last droplets of elemental energy completely vanish from her clerk’s hands.
“Gaha…” Gaha pouted, her lower jaw dropping in deep dissatisfaction. She hadn’t even finished having fun with her new toy yet.
