The bell over the door chimed softly as Jun stepped inside.
Not the loud jangle of a café.
Not the sharp buzz of a busy roaster.
Just a soft, three-note chime.
Simple.
Old.
The kind that sounded like it belonged to a slower time.
The shop smelled—
not sharp,
not burnt,
but deep.
Like soil after rain.
Like wood warmed by sun.
Like the beginning of something.
Shelves lined the walls.
Glass jars filled with beans.
No loud signs screaming "best roast" or "award-winning blend."
Just hand-written tags:
Guatemala – Light floral, soft cocoa.
Ethiopia – High bloom, berry whispers.
Sumatra – Heavy, earthy pull.
Each description sounded less like a sales pitch—
and more like someone writing about a place they loved.
Behind the counter stood a woman in her forties.
Canvas apron.
Hair tied up without fuss.
Eyes that looked like they'd watched a thousand sunrises without rushing once.
She didn't call out.
Didn't greet him like a salesman.
She just looked up—
and waited.
Jun approached slowly.
The tote tugged at his shoulder, heavier with the choices he hadn't made yet.
He didn't fidget.
He didn't pretend.
He just breathed.
And said:
"I'm looking for beans."
She nodded once.
Still no rush.
Still no push.
"What kind?" she asked.
Not what flavor.
Not what price.
What kind.
Jun paused.
Then answered truthfully.
"Ones that listen back."
The woman's mouth twitched.
Not a smile.
Not mockery.
More like—
recognition.
She stepped aside, motioning toward a small wooden table near the back.
Three jars rested there.
Unlabeled.
Unadvertised.
Waiting.
[System Log: Sourcing Branch Initiated – Artisan-Level Ingredient Selection Available.]
Trait Bonus: Ingredient Resonance + Tracking if Successful.
Jun followed.
No checklist.
No bargaining.
Just presence.
He opened the first jar.
The aroma hit soft and quick: bright citrus, a spike of morning air, fading into honeyed finish.
He closed it gently.
The second.
Thicker bloom.
Earthy.
A low hum almost under the skin.
A weightier story.
The third.
Light.
Sharp.
A whisper that made the nose lift without meaning to.
He breathed.
Listened.
Listened the way he listened to water curling through grounds.
The way he listened to the slow surrender of the kettle's hiss.
One jar hummed back at him.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
He set his hand lightly on the second jar.
Earthy.
Heavy.
Not flashy.
Just steady.
The woman nodded again, approving but unsmiling.
"You'll brew clean with that," she said simply.
No promises.
No legends.
Just truth.
Jun paid.
No haggling.
No hesitation.
Tucked the small paper sack into his tote like he was cradling something alive.
As he stepped back into the city's noise, the world didn't change around him.
But the path under his feet—
felt deeper.
More rooted.
More ready.
[System Log: Artisan Sourcing Completed – Ingredient Resonance Line Unlocked.]
[XP Gained: +30 – Origin Tracking Activated.]
[Hidden Trait Progression: Listener's Pour 5%.]
The kettle would hiss tomorrow.
The steam would rise.
The dripper would bloom.
But this time—
this time—
the notes wouldn't just be ground out of survival.
They would be sung from a deeper place.
And Jun was ready to listen.
Logged User: Stylsite08
Path: Stillness to Mastery
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Original work by Stylsite08. Do not repost or distribute without permission. All rights reserved.