The forest stayed quiet as James stared at the floating panel, the faint glow washing across his face. His thoughts tumbled faster than he could catch them.

  “Alright,” he muttered under his breath. “Ninety seeds. That’s about one, maybe two cups if I stretch it. We’re four people, and if I know those bottomless stomachs, they’ll want seconds. What do I even do?”

  A voice drifted from behind him. “Talking to yourself again?”

  James turned. “You said you wanted coffee, didn’t you? I’m figuring that out.”

  Villen stepped closer, folding his arms. “And is there a problem?”

  “Yes. A big one.”

  “Perhaps I can help.”

  “Oh, really?” James arched a brow. “You got a special skill I don’t know about?”

  “Show me yours first,” Villen replied evenly.

  James sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… don’t have enough of what I need.”

  “And what is that?” Villen asked.

  “Mana.”

  Villen tilted his head. “Your mana is too low?”

  “Exactly.”

  Footsteps crunched through the undergrowth, and Marty’s voice called out. “What are you two doing here? The owlbear’s almost done bleeding out.”

  “James promised me coffee,” Villen said.

  “Coffee?” Gerrard blinked. “Wait, the drink you mentioned?”

  Marty perked up. “Oh, that one? The mysterious drink?”

  “Yeah,” James said. “That one. Except I don’t have enough for everyone, so you’ll just have to wait until later.”

  Villen reached into the shimmer of his inventory and pulled out a small blue vial. “Here. This should help.”

  Gerrard’s eyes widened. “By the gods, a mana potion.”

  “Mana potion?” James echoed.

  Villen nodded. “You said you’re short on mana. This will fix that.”

  James took the vial carefully. “This isn’t poison, right?”

  Gerrard gave a low whistle. “That tiny bottle’s worth at least five gold.”

  “Five gold?” James stared at it. “That’s daylight robbery. Wait, almost forgot. I still have my Food Sense skill.”

  He focused, and the panel flickered to life.

  [Food Sense Activated]

  Regular Mana Potion

  A magical supplement that restores [50] mana. May apply a “Mana Sickness” debuff for a short duration.

  Some versions restore mana over time or carry additional effects.

  “Wow,” James said softly. “Good news is, it works. Bad news is, one bottle won’t cut it.”

  Villen frowned. “How many do you need?”

  “Seven more, give or take.”

  Gerrard sputtered. “Seven? That’s the most expensive drink I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Then it’ll be the best you’ve ever had too,” James shot back with a grin.

  Villen’s eyes brightened, his curiosity sharp as a blade. “If it’s as good as you claim, I want to see it for myself.”

  He reached into his inventory again. This time, seven more vials appeared, five small, two larger, each glowing faintly in shades of azure and silver.

  Gerrard’s jaw dropped. “Those big ones, I’ve only ever seen them in alchemists’ shops.”

  James examined one of the larger bottles.

  [Food Sense Activated]

  Enhanced Mana Potion

  A magical supplement that restores [100] mana. May apply a “Mana Sickness” debuff for a short duration.

  Restores mana over time (+10% recovery rate).

  He gathered them all but slipped one of the large bottles quietly into his own inventory.

  Villen’s gaze sharpened. “What are you doing?”

  James smiled. “Relax, I’m using all of them. Promise.”

  Villen didn’t blink.

  “Alright, fine,” James said, raising his hands. “Maybe I’ll save one for emergencies. You never know when the apocalypse will ask for a refill.”

  Villen’s expression softened only slightly. “I’ll forgive the greed this time. But your coffee had better be worth it.”

  James exhaled, rolling his shoulders once before tapping the glowing icon again.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The air shimmered, and the panel flared bright.

  [Mana: 90 / 120]

  [Seed Maker Activated]

  Generating: 90 coffee seeds...

  The words blinked out one by one until only silence remained. Ninety small, dark beans appeared in his inventory list, gathered neatly into a single slot.

  Then the world tilted.

  His knees buckled, breath stuttering as his body trembled. He dropped to a crouch, palms pressing into the dirt. Sweat rolled down his temple.

  Gerrard winced. “You used all your mana, didn’t you?”

  Villen’s tone was calm, almost patient. “You must always leave a little. Empty yourself completely and you’ll end up like this every time.”

  “Appreciate the warning,” James said through clenched teeth. “Very helpful. Truly.”

  He fumbled for one of the smaller potions and uncorked it. The liquid fizzed like soda, a sharp hiss followed by a rich, blue shimmer. He gulped it down in one go, then made a satisfied “ahhh” sound just to prove a point.

  “Ewww,” he muttered after a second. “Looks great, tastes like regret.”

  Gerrard laughed. “If you made it yourself, I bet it’d taste like fruit.”

  James blinked, then smirked. “Not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll try that someday.”

  “You can use me as a test subject,” Gerrard offered brightly.

  James narrowed his eyes. “You just want to taste it for free, don’t you?”

  Gerrard didn’t even deny it. He only nodded, eyes gleaming with childish excitement.

  James sighed. “If I ever start brewing potions, you’ll pay like everyone else. No discounts.”

  Gerrard’s grin faded, his shoulders sagging in theatrical despair.

  James grabbed another potion, downed it, and then got back to work. He moved with new rhythm, drink, craft, pause, careful this time to always keep ten mana in reserve.

  Minutes passed in soft bursts of light and system hums.

  When it was done, the panel flickered again:

  [Coffee Seeds: 490 (Inventory Slot #03)]

  James stared at the number, feeling oddly triumphant. “That should be enough. One cup each, easy.”

  Villen raised an eyebrow. “One cup each?”

  “Yeah, what did you expect?”

  Gerrard gawked. “Wait, Villen just burned through fifty gold worth of mana potions for four cups?”

  Marty folded his arms, smiling. “Not just for a drink. For an experience.”

  James turned toward him, grinning. “You, my friend, are the perfect candidate for fine dining.”

  Marty frowned. “Fine what?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s make this worth the gold.”

  He slung an arm over Marty’s shoulder and started toward the campfire. Villen and Gerrard exchanged a glance before shrugging and following.

  Back at camp, James picked up the same shield they had once used for pizza, its surface blackened but smooth, and set it above the fire. The metal hissed faintly as heat built beneath it.

  He pulled out a handful of beans, tossing them into the pan-like surface.

  Villen tilted his head. “Why are you burning them?”

  “Two seconds of patience,” James said.

  Before he could finish, Villen leaned in, sniffing the air. Marty’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open.

  “Oh gods,” Marty whispered. “What is that smell?”

  Gerrard inhaled deeply, pupils dilating. “I’ve never smelled anything so strong or so good.”

  James grinned. “This? This is nothing yet.”

  Villen closed his eyes for a moment, visibly taken aback. “I admit, it’s pleasant.”

  “Don’t praise it till you taste it,” James said, shaking the beans in steady rhythm. The color deepened, the aroma thickened, and the camp itself seemed to hum with warmth.

  After a while, he stopped and looked around. “I’ll need a mortar and pestle.”

  Villen blinked. “Why are you looking at me?”

  James shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe because you pull half a shop out of your inventory every time I need something?”

  Villen sighed. “I don’t carry kitchenware.”

  Marty snapped his fingers. “I think there’s one in the wagon. Small, but it’ll do.”

  “Right,” Gerrard added. “You bought one in Varduck, remember?”

  A few moments later, Marty returned carrying a small stone set. James nodded in approval and dumped the roasted beans into a bowl-shaped mortar.

  “Let them rest for a bit,” he said, sliding the second batch onto the shield. When both rounds were done, he handed the first to Marty.

  “Alright, you two. Start grinding. All the way to powder. No breaks until it’s done.”

  Marty frowned. “Powder?”

  Gerrard stretched his arms. “Fine, I’ll take turns with you.”

  The two began working in shifts, pounding and grinding as the aroma grew richer with every breath.

  Villen watched quietly for a moment before speaking. “How do you know how to do all this?”

  “I learned,” James said simply.

  “From whom?”

  “Some things by trial,” he said, eyes distant. “Some from books.” He hesitated, the smile faltering for half a second. “Some from other people.”

  “Your family?” Villen asked gently.

  James smiled again, softer this time. “Yeah. My family.”

  “They must have been wise.”

  James laughed. “Wise? Not even close. Always arguing, always loud.” He paused, a glint of humor returning. “What about you? You mentioned a niece. What’s she like? Pretty?”

  Villen stared at him for a long, unreadable moment, then burst out laughing.

  James groaned. “You know, I’d rather you got angry. This is somehow worse. My heart’s in pieces.”

  Villen kept laughing, and for the first time that day, the forest seemed to laugh with him.

  When the beans were finally ground fine enough to pass for sand, James brushed a forearm across his brow. “Alright, that should do it. Now we need boiling water.”

  He looked around expectantly.

  Marty blinked. “You’re looking at me again, aren’t you?”

  “You’re the wagon guy,” James said. “You always have something lying around.”

  Marty groaned but disappeared toward the wagon. A few moments later he came back holding a small iron pot with a dented lid. “It’s not fancy, but it holds heat well.”

  “Perfect.” James set it near the fire. “We just need clean water now.”

  Gerrard grinned, straightening up. “That part I can handle.”

  He raised his staff, cast a magic, and a thin ribbon of blue light spun from the tip, condensing mid-air into a swirling globe of water. It hovered for a heartbeat before splashing neatly into the pot. Steam began to rise almost instantly as the metal absorbed the fire’s heat.

  James nodded in approval. “You know, that’s actually useful magic. Not just explosions and theatrics.”

  Gerrard smirked. “Sometimes even I prefer elegance.”

  Soon the pot rattled softly, the water rolling to a steady boil. James poured the ground coffee in by handfuls, stirring it with a stick he’d cleaned on his sleeve.

  “Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s make history.”

  Steam rose in soft ribbons as the pot began to boil. The scent thickened, spreading through the clearing until the whole camp seemed to hold its breath.

  James leaned over, eyes half-closed. “Smells like Jamaica Blue Mountain. System, did you seriously just craft the Holy Grail of coffee?”

  Gerrard tilted his head. “Where is Jamaica Blue Mountain?”

  “Forget it,” James said quickly. “Here, you get the first cup.”

  Marty and Villen exchanged wary looks. Marty gestured politely. “You go first, please.”

  James handed out the rest, each cup sending out another wave of aroma that curled like invisible silk through the air.

  Villen lifted his cup, thoughtful. “If I like it, I’m drinking the extra one.”

  James smirked. “That last cup’s reserved, my friend. For the owlbear.”

  “They’re dead,” Villen replied dryly. “And dead things don’t drink coffee.”

  “Great slogan,” James said, “but coffee isn’t just for drinking. You can cook with it too. If we marinate the owlbear meat in this, it’ll kill that gamey smell and deepen the flavor. Trust me. If you like the taste, we can make more later, as long as you’ve got mana potions to spare.”

  Villen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You hid one of the large bottles in your inventory, didn’t you?”

  “Shhhh,” James whispered. “Tasting time.”

  They each lifted a cup. One deep breath.

  “Ahhh.”

  Then one careful sip.

  Their eyes widened in perfect unison. Only James stayed calm, watching like a proud scientist observing his experiment succeed.

  Gerrard closed his eyes. “I feel… reborn.”

  Marty laughed breathlessly. “You’re not wrong. Just don’t get any ideas about walking around in your birthday suit like James.”

  Villen examined the cup, his tone analytical. “Hot, rich, strong, slightly acidic, a hint of sweetness. Everything a proper drink should be.”

  James smiled. “Well put. But the real kick comes once you finish the whole cup.”

  One by one, they drained the mugs. Silence fell again, filled only by the soft crackle of the fire. Then the energy hit.

  Marty’s voice trembled with excitement. “James, what was that? I feel… charged.”

  Gerrard flexed his hands, grinning like a madman. “If those owlbears came now, I’d take them all myself.”

  Villen’s eyes gleamed. “It feels like I could fight an army.”

  James burst out laughing. “And that, my friends, is the true power of coffee. The only drink that makes you believe you can conquer the world. That’s how you know it’s good.”

  Author’s Note

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