A rough voiapped through the fog of sleep.

  "Wake up, boy."

  Zero's eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was the sful face of an elven man, looking down at him with thinly veiled disgust.

  The hiiced?

  The passengers around him—humans, dwarves, elves—all staring at him with expressiing from pt to ht disgust.

  Zero barely had time tister his surroundings before a gruff dwarf sneered, his thick beard bristling as he spat,

  "Why's a damn demon sittin' in this partment anyway?"

  A human man snorted, crossing his arms. "Filthy kind shouldn't even be permitted aboard this lootive." He g another human beside him, scoffing, "I don't even know what the King was thinking, allowing their kind on public transport."

  Zero sat up, blinking as he took everything in.

  The wooden interior of the lootive partment had a cssic, old-world charm—rge windows framed by golden trims, elegant nterns hanging from the ceiling, polished floors beh his boots. It felt like something straight out of an old book or a historical film.

  But none of that mattered right now.

  Because as Zero's head tilted forward, he caught sight of his own refle in the partment window—

  —small, curved horns on his forehead.

  Ah.

  So that's why.

  Zero let out a slow breath, ign the hateful stares.

  Focus. Don't react.

  The elf who had woken him up clicked his tongue impatiently. "It's your stop, stupid. Why are you still here?"

  Before Zero could respond, the elf grabbed his bag and threw it at him.

  "Get out."

  Zero caught the bag mid-air, his fiightening around the strap.

  Then, without a word, he rose to his feet and stepped off the train.

  The moment Zero stepped onto the station ptform, a wave of sights and sounds hit him all at once.

  Bustling streets. Horse-drawn carriages beside magitech-powered trams. Airships h in the distance.

  The city before him looked like something straight out of a 19th-tury Europearopolis, but with a distinct fantasy twist.

  T gothic buildings, intricate stone bridges, and floating crystal mps lining the streets.

  Everywhere he looked, magid teology blended seamlessly—shopkeepers usiating carts, street performers juring illusions, and armored knights patrolling the roads with ented ons at their sides.

  Zero stood still for a moment, taking it all in.

  "…Well," he muttered to himself, a smirk f on his lips.

  "This pce sure beats getting hit by an airpne."

  Zero adjusted the strap of his bag and took a moment to check himself over.

  He wore a well-fitted bck suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and an outer coat that draped down to his khe coat had subtle silver embroidery along the cuffs, giving it a touch of elegance.

  His long bck hair—smooth and tied in a loose, low ponytail—fell over his shoulder as he reached into his coat pocket.

  Inside, he found a folded part.

  His fingers ran across the textured paper before he ope. The handwriting was instantly reizable—a little too casual, a little too smug.

  It was from Cecil.

  Hey,

  I decided your st name would be Bitches. So gratutions, your full name is now Zero Bitches. Ehe.

  Just kidding.

  Your real name is Zero Ashworth. Good lu your new life.

  Oh, and below this, you'll find the address to your new café.

  See ya, Zero.

  Zero stared at the note.

  Then he exhaled through his nose, a small chuckle esg.

  "That bastard."

  Shaking his head, he looked down at the address written at the bottom of the part.

  Alright. First stop—the café.

  Zero strode dowone-paved streets, feeling a strange sense of lightness. At first, he had feared that his horrible luck from his past life would still g to him. But then—

  He watched as a random nobleman stepped right into a fresh pile of horse manure.

  Zero paused.

  Then, his eyes flickered across the street, where another man actally dropped his bag of s into a sewer grate.

  "…Oh."

  A slow smirk formed on Zero's lips.

  So it's not just me anymore. He walked casually through the city, taking in the architecture, the people, the atmosphere.

  Tall brick buildings with rge gothidows loomed over the streets. Elegant clock towers stood against the sky. The sound of steam-powered trams hummed in the distance, blending with the faint chatter of merts hawking their wares.

  Ae the sneers he received from humans, elves, and dwarves, Zero simply smiled and greeted them anyway. He didn't care about their prejudices. The only ones who greeted him back were other demons—workers, shopkeepers, street ers. Their responses were hesitant, but aowledging.

  Zero took it all in.

  This is my new world now.

  And for the first time in a long time, he felt… excited. Zero followed the dires until he finally arrived at his destination. A small café stood at the er of a quiet street, tucked between rger buildings.

  Its woodeerior had a warm, aged charm, with a simple hanging sign above the door. The sign read:

  Café Lebnc

  Zero raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Looks just like the note described." He reached into his pocket and found a key. With a quiet click, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  The air inside was rich with the faint st of coffee and aged wood.

  The café had a cozy, intimate atmosphere—dim lighting, dark wooden furnishings, and a long mahogany ter that ran along the back of the room.

  A row of leather-padded stools lihe ter, fag a ly arranged coffee-making station. Various gss jars filled with coffee beans were stacked on wooden shelves, along with a sele of teas and spices.

  To the side, there were a few small round tables with wooden chairs, perfect for quiet versations. Each table had a small mp, casting a warm glow.

  Against the far wall, a rickety old staircase led to an upper floor, presumably where the living quarters were.

  Zero let out a slow breath.

  "This pce is… kinda perfect."

  He made his way behind the ter, running his fingers across the smooth wooden surface.

  That's wheiced a small tio the coffee mae.

  Pig it up, he immediately reized the same handwriting.

  Btw, every material here—coffee, raw food, anything that's part of running a café—is unlimited. So you don't have to worry about restog.

  Enjoy, Zero.

  -Cecil

  Zero grinned.

  "…Hell yeah."

  For the first time in his new life, things were actually going his way. Zero stepped behind the cash register, expeg to see a traditional money drawer. Instead, a glowing s hovered just above the ter.

  "Huh?"

  The s dispyed a Gacha system interface.

  At the top, it read:

  [CARD GACHA]

  Below it, a point ter showed that he already had 1000 points.

  Two options were listed:

  Single Pull – 100 Points11 Pull – 1000 Points

  Zero raised an eyebro. That's actually cost-effective if I do a 11-pull." He cracked his knuckles. "Well, let's test our luck, shall we?" He tapped the 11 pull button.

  Meanwhile…

  A grand castle hall stood in royal splendor. Servants and noblemen gathered around as a royal priest raised his hands, his voice filled with reverence.

  "gratutions, Duke. Your son shall be the sun that blesses our kingdom." The Duke, a tall, broad-shouldered man, nodded solemnly. "Thank you." In his arms, a blonde infant cried loudly, his tiny fists g in protest.

  But as the Duke gently pced the baby into his wife's arms, the child's cries suddenly ceased. For a brief moment, the baby's eyes flickered—as if something more was ihem. Something… mature.

  As Zero clicked firm, the s fshed and a set of glowing tarot-like cards slid out from the cash register.

  They nded ly in front of him. Zero smirked. "Alright, let's see what we got." He picked up the first card and read it aloud.

  "10 Points of Magical Energy."

  The card glowed before disappearing, a—

  "…I don't feel any different."

  Shrugging, he picked up the one. Aniergy card. Then another. And another. By the eleventh card, Zero groaned, rubbing his face. "e on—just give me a damn character already." Finally, he flipped over the st card. A name appeared.

  [Sōma Yukihira]

  Zero squinted. "Who?"

  The card tained a short description:

  in: Shokugeki no SomaAbilities: Expert Cooking, ary Creativity, Adaptability

  Zero tilted his head.

  "…I have no idea who this is."

  He drummed his fingers on the ter. "Maybe this anime came out after I died." After a moment of thought, he slid the Sōma card into his pocket. "Alright. So… how do I evehis?"

  The meierging a character with his e weren't clear yet. And since he could only make one e, he wao save the slot for someoer.

  "Guess I'll hold onto this one for now. Maybe I'll pull someone like Liu Mao Xing from Cooking Master Boy instead." Satisfied, Zero turned away from the register. Heading upstairs, Zero ehe living area. It was… far more luxurious than he had expected.

  A cozy firepce sat against one wall, illuminating a room filled with elegant wooden furniture. A plush armchair rested near a tall bookshelf, and a small round table sat beside a fortable-looking sofa.

  There was a rge bedroom, ly stocked with closets full of clothes—all in styles that fit this world's setting. Zero ged into something more casual—a simple white tunid dark trousers. As he adjusted his sleeves, his stomach grumbled.

  "…Alright. Food first."

  He headed back downstairs, i on making himself something to eat. But before he could reach the kit—

  The café door opewo elveepped inside. Zero, ever the optimist, greeted them with a warm smile. "Wele!" One of the elves gnced around before sneering. "Where is the owner, boy?"

  Zero blinked. "Uh… I'm the owner."

  The elves froze. Their expressions immediately soured as they exged a look of disgust. "…I think we're good," otered, turning back toward the door. The other scoffed. "A demon running a café? Yeah, no thanks." They both walked out without another word.

  Zero, unfazed, waved cheerfully after them.

  "See you around! We've got great coffee, y'know!"

  The door closed. Zero exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… that was something." Shrugging, he headed to the kit and started cooking himself a meal. As the aroma of coffee and warm food filled the café, Zero smiled to himself.

  The world might hate him. But he didn't mind. This was his pow. And he was going to thrive.