Chapter 23: Genius at Work

“Do you think it’s something that you’re saying?”

“It could be, but I can’t think of what.”

“Well, let’s give it a shot. Try selling me something, Arthur. Like I’m a new customer.” She curled around the counter to the front, then put on a fake new-customer persona. “Oh, hi! This stand looks interesting. What do you make here?”

Arthur ran through his little routine, handing her a pearl, listing off the kinds of teas available.

“So it’s a tea… with bread?”

“Yes. It’s filling, like a heavy snack. Think of it as about half a meal.”

“Ah, I got it,” Ella said, dropping out of her new character back to her plain old bird-mom mannerisms. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Arthur.”

“Why?”

“I’ll let it be a surprise. But give it some time. I think things will turn out all right.”

Ella left soon after that. Arthur tried to focus on her reassurance, but felt only slightly better despite his great trust in Ella’s experience as a cook. Another hour came and went, with several more people stopping by for samples and only one more sale. Arthur eventually threw out the boba he had made that morning, making a new batch and hoping that people would eventually make the purchases that justified it.

And then, like magic, a big shadow fell over his stand once more. He looked up, seeing the rock demon from that morning.

“Hi, again!” he said. “I’m hungry now. I wanted to try your tea, if I could.”

“I… oh, of course. What would you like?”

Making the rock’s tea seemed to set off a chain reaction. As if on cue, everyone who had passed his stand all morning started coming back, almost in the same order they had shown up in before.

“It’s so interesting,” the rabbit woman said. “I wanted to try it earlier, but you know how it is. I was already full from breakfast.”

Ella knew this was going to happen the entire time.

Arthur was used to serving food to other teenagers, who, like him, basically never stopped being hungry. They were growing, burning calories doing their new jobs, and more or less on the move at all times. Normal people weren’t like that. Ella mostly ate at mealtimes, only snacking in-between, and anyone her age was probably pretty similar.

I’ve been telling people who just ate breakfast this is an entire light meal all morning, and then acting surprised when they didn’t want it just yet. I’m an idiot.

And so the lunch rush began.

The rock man had triggered another level up, one that Arthur initially intended to keep back until he could think about what to do with the points. Instead, he found himself desperately dumping them into dexterity, needing every ounce of speed and precision he could get to keep up with the speed of the orders. Soon, his backup pot was in place, getting more pearls ready. Soon after, the backup to the backup made its appearance.

“Who wanted pep heavy?” he yelled, seeing four hands go up, and loading four cups at once before figuring out cream preferences for the group. When someone had a special order, he’d slow down, but otherwise he was moving at top speed at all times, whipping out as many drinks as he could without actually compromising on quality.

The worst part, the hardest thing, was the cup situation. Rhodia, the mouse crafter, had made plenty of cups. Or at least that’s what it seemed in the morning. Now, with various demons walking off with the cups and others taking their time drinking, he was on the edge of running out. Soon, he’d have to tell people to wait, something they might enjoy doing.

The solution to that came in the form of a young barn-owl looking child walking down the street, who Arthur caught the eye of and waved over. Up close, the kid was dirty, and obviously suspicious of the weird pink non-demon who was demanding her time.

“What do you want? I’m busy.”

Arthur almost abandoned his little plan right then, but little unoccupied children appeared to be at a premium in the square that day.

“Listen, do you want to make a coin?” He asked. Suddenly, most of the surliness the child seemed to come stock with evaporated.

“Probably. What would I have to do?”

“Do you know Rhodia? A mouse-demon, about this tall, makes pottery?”

“No.”

“Well, go looking for her. Tell her I need cups. Lots of them. As many as she can make, as fast as she can make them. Tell her I’m paying.” He took a coin and pressed it into the child’s hand. “She’s probably at the park, over that way. You know which one?”

The child nodded, and when Arthur went back to work, he just stood there.

“Do you need something? Did I forget something?” Arthur asked, harried by keeping up with the customers.

“You are paying me now? Before I do it?”

“Yes. In case you can’t find her. If you look and she’s not around, you can just keep it.”

The child looked at the coin in their hand, then walked off with confusion evident on his face. Arthur didn’t have enough time to confirm the kid’s intentions as he jumped right into making more tea.

Finally, thankfully, the lunch rush was over. It took hours. From what Arthur could gather, everyone started their day in the morning, but not at a particular standardized hour. Lunch was, essentially, the entire middle part of the day. So while he had been able to keep up with the rush, he was almost completely exhausted by the time two or three hours had passed.

“You look dead.”

Rhodia shuffled up, a large wooden crate balanced on her hands in a way that made her look even smaller than normal.

“I am. I’m completely out of boba.”

“You ran out of cups too?”

“Barely. I didn’t expect it to be this fast on the first day.”

“Well, good idea sending that kid. They said that ‘some kind of pink monster needs cups. He pays good’ then ran off like I was going to eat them. But I got the picture. Here’s two dozen more cups. Enjoy.”

Arthur slid open the storage of the stand, sliding the cups in next to the now-clean batch he had been using all day.

“How much do I owe you? For both sets.”

“Those are still low grade, so not much. Call it a majna?”

“A large? Got it.” Arthur counted out ten coins from his overflowing money-tower and handed it over. Most demons paid in coins, and he hadn’t taken an order for a majna yet.

“Holy gods. You really did do well.” Rhodia’s eyes bugged out as she saw the day’s take.

“I did. Although I’m pretty far from paying everyone back, still.”

“I wouldn’t worry. I got a level earlier from those cups being used, and another one right now when you made it a paid relationship. Everyone involved will be patient for that.” She sat on a stool. “Milo said to get home when you can, by the way. He’s working on something for you.”

“Got it.” He collapsed into the stool he reserved for himself. “Damn. I still have to make boba tonight, for tomorrow. Or else use the stale stuff.”

“How did you do on levels? That might help.”

“Well.”

Level 9 Teamaster

Stats:

STR 5

VIT 6

DEX 8

PER 12

WIS 8

INT 5

Unassigned Stat Points: 2

Primary Skills: Teashop Brewmaster (Level 6) Food Scientist (Level 8)

Achievements: Shop Owner, First Customer (Rolling into shop owner), Lunch Rush Success (Rolling into shop owner), Satisfied Customers (Minor, Rolling into Shop Owner)

“Level nine?” Rhodia exclaimed, reading over the screen he had flicked over. “I’m jealous. I’m still stuck at six, and you helped me get two of those.”

“It seems unfair. I’m getting those because of my situation. Not because of talent.”

“Well, everyone levels out, eventually. Tomorrow won’t be the same as today. You see those achievements?”

“Yeah. I was going to ask about them.”

“Unless something truly crazy happens, those usually just reward experience. And I’m guessing the ones you’re getting comes from the easy parts of your job, stuff you get just for doing your job for real the first few times. I just got one from you, actually.”

“So tomorrow I won’t get the same bumps…”

“And everything slows down. And I keep making you better and better cups, and I catch up, and then I can make bigger orders for more people.” She reached out and grabbed a cup from Arthur as he served her the last tea and boba of the day. “Plus, I’m only competing with other potters, who all have the same problems. It evens out.”

On the way home, Arthur gave up on his responsible plans to keep the two stat points he had for perspective or wisdom and dumped them into vitality. His legs and feet were killing him, and he still had a long night’s work ahead of him. He felt a rush of energy like caffeine surging into him once the points were in place. He’d be able to make it now, probably.

The biggest problem ahead of him was making the boba pearls. He was still rolling them by hand, and it took forever. Outside that problem, he could have made ten times more. The dough was easy. Manual dex-driven labor was hard.

When Milo caught him at the door with something that looked like a high-energy friendship interaction, Arthur almost brushed him off. Milo didn’t deserve that, though. As he grabbed Arthur’s arm and dragged him towards the back of the house, he just let the sparrow.

“I made something today. I have to show it to you.”

Milo unlatched the door to his shop, threw on his magic light, and dragged Arthur in front of what looked like a large mass of pure mechanical insanity, a mess of rough gears, tubes, and a large crank.

“What is this?”

“This, Arthur, is genius at work.” Milo grinned. “Turn the crank.”

“I’m exhausted, Milo.”

“Just turn it. Trust me.”

Arthur turned the crank, watching with alarm as a large knife assaulted one part of a tube near the top, dropping through a slit in the machine and audibly bottoming out on bare metal. Just beyond it, the pipe was halved, forming a sort of half-pipe platform that was getting bashed every now and again by what looked like a large overhead-press.

“The timing was the really hard part. Well, that and making sure the press was exactly the right size, It kept leaving little ridges on the test stuff mom gave me.”

“Milo, I’m… just pretend I’m stupid. What is this thing?”

“You really can’t see it?” Milo looked at the machine, confused. Below the machine was a basket, which he withdrew a small round object from before tossing it to Arthur. “It’s a press. For your little dough balls. It does six of them every time you turn the crank. Dozens of them a minute.”

“Wait, what?” Arthur turned the crank again. He could see it now. It was an extruder with a press built onto the end. The press plate had little circular indents in it that hit the dough in the half-pipe section, forcing them into little nearly-round balls. “This is fantastic, Milo. How’d you think of this?”

“It’s like mom’s extruder. Only with a few more tools built in. It wasn’t hard to blueprint. Building it was… a thing. A whole thing.”

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much do I owe you? For this. It’s incredible.”

“You don’t have to pay me, Arthur.”

The resulting argument went on for the better part of an hour before Arthur remembered that his new dexterity stat meant he was probably a bit faster than Milo now. Dodging another forehead flick, he got behind him and threw a large-coin majna down his friend’s shirt, running away before Milo could give it back.

“Arthur, I’m going to catch you eventually. And you’re going to have to…” Milo’s voice rang out from the shop, then stopped suddenly as he was distracted by something. “Actually, never mind. I’m keeping this. Two levels, Arthur. And… hell. Arthur, I just got a new skill.”