S-Class Small Business Owner

“Hello.”

His brown eyes, kissed by sunlight, shimmered with a faint golden hue.

As his eyes curved gently with his greeting, everyone—customers and part-timers alike—gazed dreamily at the man standing before the counter.

Despite all eyes fixed on him, the man remained perfectly composed. If anything, I was the one who felt uncomfortable under all those stares.

“May I take your order?”

“Noona, when do you get off work today?”

“Sir, I’m afraid ‘When do you get off work’ isn’t on our menu.”

“Will the café be open next week during the Gate clearing celebration? If not, hang out with me.”

“Sir, if you haven’t decided yet, may I help the person behind you?”

Following my gaze, the man turned around, causing the customer who had been staring at him like they were admiring a masterpiece to flinch in surprise.

“No, no! I have plenty of time today. Your order might take a while. Please, take your time! Order at your leisure!”

Though most would be annoyed at someone holding up the line, this customer waved their hands frantically as if they’d been given an undeserved honor.

After thanking them, the man turned back to me and said,

“See? They’re fine with it.”

“…Sir, if you don’t intend to order, would you please step aside?”

“…Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’? Don’t be so formal with me… I don’t like feeling this distance between us. Call me by my name, like you used to.”

What relationship do we have exactly?

When I just stared at him silently, he drooped his eyebrows as if hurt. Sympathetic sighs leaked out from around the café.

I felt like I’d become some kind of terrible villain. With reproachful glances coming from all directions, I finally gave in and spoke the familiar name.

“Mr. Joo Wooyae.”

“Just Wooyae.”

“…Fine, Wooyae. Would you like to order?”

“Yes.”

His face bloomed like a spring flower. The café fell into silence.

In the quiet, I thought I heard someone draw in a sharp breath.

These reactions don’t even surprise me anymore—they’re too familiar now.

After he returned to his seat, I took the remaining orders and moved to the coffee machine.

That’s when Kang Minji, our part-timer who had been stealing glances at me, tiptoed over and whispered:

“Boss, what’s really going on between you and Mr. Gorgeous?”

That’s what Minji called him—Wooyae, I mean.

Since she was our only part-timer, some regular customers who didn’t know his name naturally started calling him that too.

I used to cringe at the nickname, but now I’ve reached a state of enlightenment where I don’t care what anyone calls him.

“Just a café owner and her regular customer.”

“Oh come on, you’re lying!”

Minji laughed as if she’d heard an amusing joke at my deadpan response.

I know she won’t believe anything I say anyway—she’s already made up her mind about what’s going on.

I shooed her away, telling her to focus on work, and she shuffled back to her position, grumbling.

After sending out the first americano order, I was about to make the next drink when Minji called me, saying Mr. Gorgeous’s drink was ready. When I asked why she couldn’t just serve it herself, her answer was brazen:

“Because he likes it better when you serve him, Boss!”

“…Since when did my café become a host club?”

“Boss, hurry! Orders are piling up!”

Somehow, I ended up taking the drink. Grapefruit honey black tea. It was his recent go-to order.

He used to order nothing but americanos at my previous café, but his taste seems to have changed lately.

Objectively speaking, Wooyae was great for business.

Not only had customer traffic increased significantly since he started visiting, but he himself was a VIP customer.

He ordered frequently during his long stays, and sometimes even bought out all our remaining cookies and cakes. Plus, the customers who followed him here were all big spenders.

While a part-timer on fixed wages might not care, for an owner whose livelihood depends on profits, he was undeniably a valuable customer.

But I wasn’t exactly thrilled about his presence.

“Grapefruit honey—”

“Here.”

He responded before I could finish, quickly picking up his drink. He must have been watching this direction.

As I tried to return to work after handing over the drink, Wooyae hastily grabbed my attention.

“Noona, are you really not free today?”

“Mr. Wooyae—”

“I’m really struggling… You know how hard it is for low-rank Espers to summon guides at will. I don’t have any other guides to help me, and my matching rate is so low…”

He pleaded, lowering his long eyelashes. Though he looked utterly pitiful, I could only exhale in disbelief.

What? 

Low-rank Esper? 

No guides to help?

The reason this man irked me was crystal clear.

He was nothing but a ticking time bomb threatening to destroy my peaceful daily life that I’d only just regained.

Fake name. 

Fake identity.

He wasn’t a low-rank Esper, nor was he without connections, and his name wasn’t even Joo Wooyae.

He was one of only five S-rank Espers in South Korea, a multi-ability user. The young Guild Master of ‘Messiah’—Korea’s #1 and world’s #2 ranked guild.

He must have competent guides lining up just to catch his eye.

Remembering all the lies made my lips twist involuntarily. I leaned over the pickup counter.

“Hey, Mr. Wooyae.”

His eyes widened at my suddenly closer face.

Worried others might hear, I whispered in a low, grinding tone.

“Ah, no. That’s not your name, is it? Should I call you…”

I smiled as I watched his pupils tremble slightly.

My face, usually fierce enough as it is, must look downright murderous right now.

“Guild Master Yeon Woo-jin of Messiah.”

Yeon Woo-jin.

The bastard who had deceived me for so long, the one who made me give up my dream of owning a home.

The damn fool who had destroyed my house not once, not twice, but three times.

* * *

They say life is unpredictable, but mine went beyond that.

Back when I was an ordinary high school student, I used to return home late after studying at cram school.

That fateful day was no different.

As night fell and the station grew quieter than usual for rush hour, I waited for the subway in the darkness.

SCREEEEEECH-

Suddenly, a strange mechanical noise pierced my ears, and I couldn’t breathe properly.

As my body grew cold to the fingertips as if all my blood had drained out, terror consumed my mind.

Am I… dying?

Someone must have noticed something wrong with me, because I heard them calling out.

But the ringing in my ears only grew louder, and just as my vision started flickering and I lost consciousness—

The noise stopped as suddenly as it had started.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer Kim Yoo-jung, a first-year at Jewon High School, but Amelia Campbell of the Herman Empire.

To make matters worse, Amelia Campbell was the illegitimate daughter of a count’s family, scorned by everyone in the household, and arbitrarily engaged to the Crown Prince in a loveless arrangement.

Yes, I had possessed a character with the most typical family background in romance fantasy novels.

So what now… Should I become a runaway female lead and escape this wretched household?

Would the Crown Prince become the regretful male lead?

No matter how much I pondered in my addled state, I couldn’t find an answer.

My options were limited, and the choice I finally made, however reluctantly, was to study the language.

After all, I needed to communicate before I could do anything else.

Drawing on my experience as a college entrance exam student, I barely managed to learn the language—and then war broke out.

In the Herman Empire, unless there was a serious defect, at least one member of each noble family had to participate in the war.

In such circumstances, instead of the eldest son who would inherit the family, I was the one drafted.

…Wait, maybe this isn’t a romance fantasy novel?

That was the first moment I seriously considered the possibility that I had the genre wrong.

Fortunately, Amelia had a special ability.

I used that ability to desperately survive on the battlefield for five years.

Together with my comrades, we successfully led the war to victory and returned home.

Brilliant fireworks. 

The sound of people’s excited laughter and exploding firecrackers.

Just as I was nurturing my desire for revenge against the count’s family who had sent me to war, using those sounds as fuel—

Suddenly, that same ringing from seven years ago in the subway station returned.

And with it, my memories as Amelia Campbell came to an end.