-"You're officially out of your mind," Yashu gasped, her face frozen as if she had run out of words to describe her sheer speechlessness.
I knew my proposal sounded absurd. After everything that had happened, I should have rested for at least a week. But a voice deep inside urged me to go home immediately. Who knew what would happen to my mother if I delayed any longer?
I glanced toward the hallway, where customers were noisily chatting over their drinks. That strange sensation washed over me again. They were like creatures trying to "impersonate" humans; although their appearance was no different, every gesture and laugh exuded an unnerving wrongness. Since I arrived, I had felt those bulging eyes pinned firmly on me, yet I couldn't point out exactly who in the crowd they belonged to.
I turned and asked Yashu softly:
-"How long have you been working here?"
-"Two weeks," she replied evasively, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why? Are you... seeing the same things I am?"
-"Yeah. There's something wrong with these customers."
Yashu's face suddenly darkened. She pulled me into a secluded corner, far from Mr. Minh's office, and whispered:
-"To be honest, during my first few days, my skin crawled just like yours. But I was so short on money that I just had to suck it up. That's life-sometimes, poverty is scarier than ghosts."
-"Suddenly, that Demon Gate mission doesn't seem so bad, does it?" I replied, trying to inject a bit of dark humor to dissipate the thick atmosphere of unease.
Yashu spoke up, as if trying to reassure both me and herself:
-"I think... it'll be fine. I've managed to stay here for two weeks, after all. Aside from the occasional excessive staring, these customers haven't made any aggressive moves."
Thinking about her words, I found myself agreeing. Being stared at was still much easier to handle than wandering out there in the dead of night.
The ring of a service bell cut through my thoughts. Yashu glanced toward the lobby and hurriedly turned back to me:
-"Move fast, a customer is calling. We have work to do."
I took a deep breath and stepped out. Immediately, the entire cafe seemed to fall into a bizarre silence. Every eye turned toward me simultaneously-lifeless, hollow eyes, completely devoid of light. Stiff smiles were plastered on their lips, as if they were watching some pathetic play. That collective gaze sent a chill down my spine, but I could only lower my head and keep walking, not daring to react.
I slowly approached the table where the bell had chimed earlier, asking in my most professional voice:
-"What can I get for you?"
The two customers-a man and a woman-didn't answer immediately. They just silently fixed their gaze on me as if trying to pierce through my skin. In that suffocating atmosphere of confusion, I could only reassure myself with a bit of dark optimism:
( What's wrong with these freaks? Have they never seen a handsome guy before? )
Finally, they shifted their gaze to the menu. The woman pointed to a line and spoke:
-"Two milk coffees and a plate of pastries, please."
I let out a sigh of relief, feeling as though I had just escaped an interrogation:
-"Certainly, please wait a moment."
I hurried back to the bar, grabbed a pair of ceramic cups, and started working.
The machine was already warmed up, emitting a gentle steam. I skillfully poured the beans into the grinder; the sound of them shattering filled the space.
After tamping the coffee grounds with just the right amount of pressure and cleaning the group head, I locked the portafilter into the machine for extraction.
Streams of rich, aromatic brown coffee began to flow, blending into the thick layer of condensed milk waiting at the bottom of the cups.
Finally, I carefully sliced a portion of cake and arranged it on a plate.
Turns out, this job was quite easy-not nearly as "sweat-inducing" as I had imagined.
I carefully brought the two coffees out first before returning for the pastries, walking slowly to ensure not a single brown drop spilled. Setting the drinks on the table, I gave a small nod:
-"Here is your coffee."
-"Thank you, dear."
The elegant-looking woman smiled back. Her words made me freeze in surprise. So this weird, "off-looking" crowd still knew how to be polite? Or... was I being too paranoid?
I stole a glance at Qing Yashu, who was still busy at the checkout counter. Watching her briskly handle the bills, I felt that my workload was much lighter than hers.
While my mind was busy chasing stray thoughts, the familiar ting-ting of a table bell rang out, cutting through the silence. Another customer.
I adjusted my uniform and slowly headed toward the table. However, as the distance closed, my footsteps abruptly halted. This customer was an exceptionally muscular and powerful man, standing out like a towering pillar in my line of sight.
The cafe lights reflected off his striking platinum-white hair, highlighting his characteristic crimson eyes and a face that exuded peak arrogance. That chillingly familiar feeling made my heart skip a beat. My mind involuntarily gasped: ( This person... could it be Chen Feng!? )
I tried to regulate my breathing, forcing myself to maintain the demeanor of a server, and spoke softly:
-"What would you like to order, sir?"
To be honest, asking this felt incredibly awkward. That polite tone didn't suit the strange relationship between us at all.
Chen Feng was currently leaning back in his chair in a relaxed manner, his imposing and powerful presence seemingly swallowing the small seat. Hearing my voice, he lazily looked up. The moment our eyes met, I saw him flinch slightly, a flash of surprise darting across those red eyes. He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low, deep voice:
-"You... work here?"
-"I do..." I replied, suppressing a sigh.
Truthfully, I didn't know if this guy and I counted as "teammates." After all, we had survived a life-or-death mission together, where the line between living and dying was paper-thin. Although we hadn't bothered to say a word to each other during that time, we were at least old acquaintances.
I didn't understand why I felt so uneasy. Clearly, meeting an acquaintance in this situation was normal, yet the air between us felt as though it were covered in a suffocating fog.
-"Give me a black coffee then. No milk," he commanded coldly, his voice sharp with the aura of someone who was always in control.
-"Alright, wait a moment, it's coming right up," I nodded and quickly turned away.
As I walked back to the counter, questions kept popping up in my head: ( Isn't this guy usually inseparable from that girl with the heterochromatic eyes? They're usually a pair, so why is he lurking around alone now? )
But then, I shook my head vigorously to brush those redundant questions aside: ( Whatever, his business has nothing to do with me. My job is just to make that black coffee exactly as ordered. )
I returned behind the bar and began the familiar brewing motions unconsciously. The grinder groaned as it pulverized the beans, releasing a pungent aroma. I casually took the grounds, tamped them firmly, and locked them into the machine. The thick, dark liquid began to pour down, slow and steady.
While waiting, I grabbed a cup, my gaze wandering aimlessly into the thin steam. Yet, the image of that man sitting over there still drifted into my sight. ( He seems to be enjoying himself, doesn't he? ) I let out a faint, cynical smile in my mind. Looking at that leisurely posture, no one would think he carried any burdens or worries. While Yashu and I were flustered by the constant appearance of strange customers and that haunting giant eye-sun in the sky, this guy was just sitting there, completely at ease. We were worlds apart.
Before long, the cup was full. I decisively cut the machine and placed the pitch-black cup on the tray. My movements were as swift as possible.
Holding the hot coffee, I slowly walked toward Chen Feng.
Those bizarre eyes in the cafe were still staring unblinkingly at me.
The combined sensation of embarrassment and "wrongness" made me feel completely overwhelmed.