Demon World Boba Shop: A Cozy Fantasy Novel

Shopping was perhaps one of Arthur’s favorite part of his new life.

At some point during his old life, he had been actively afraid of shopping, that he’d go into a store, find he wouldn’t really know what to get, and that he couldn’t get good help from the exhausted, underpaid retail worker manning the till. He didn’t blame them, since very few people’s life dream was to sell denim jeans. And then there was the fact that every time he bought something, it was saying no to a whole range of other things he could have bought with the money.

In this new world, though? It was the complete opposite thing. Here, the person manning the denim sale was working as much as they wanted, typically as their own boss, and pursuing their dream of doing just that in a fully sincere, unironic way. If Arthur wanted help figuring out what to spend his money on, there would be someone in every shop who would help him do just that to the full extent of their substantial abilities. And better yet, he and everyone else had enough money to buy all the things they needed or wanted, as long as they didn’t go entirely overboard.

Today, Arthur declared, was going to be a shopping day and he was going to have fun.

The hours before the lunch rush, and hours after that were free to himself. He’d have to be back when people came for dinner and relaxation, but that was enough to do a lot of things, or just a few things for a long time, depending on how things played out.

Both were fine with him, so the real choice was what he’d do first. He stood in the road looking at all the shops, hoping one of them would speak to him in particular.

I have to trust in the heart of the cards, Arthur thought, willing the destiny of the shopping trip to seize the thread of his fate and whip him in the right direction.

Suddenly, it did. He saw one shop in particular and felt the sweet draw he had been looking for. He immediately moved in that direction. Shoes. I’m going to spend as much money as possible on shoes.

Arthur’s current shoes were fine, a demon world design that was something like a short-topped boot, meant to be versatile in a lot of situations. The world didn’t have rubber or plastic, but that didn’t matter, given the fact that the leather workers were pretty damn good and worked with an improved palate of materials courtesy of various majicka-jacked monster materials.

And so, Arthur had been wearing the same pair from the city’s tailor shop and put uncountable miles on them.

Minus Karbo-rides, the demon world was mostly a walking place. Almost every destination required some combination of walking, running, or skipping. That gave Arthur a new appreciation for footwear in general and while his current pair of shoes were good, he was pretty sure there was still some headroom in terms of what was possible, as long as he was willing to spend for it. And he was. Even a slight improvement would be a big deal today.

“Arthur!” The town’s leather worker perked up when he saw Arthur walk through the door. “Didn’t expect to see you today. Mayor business?”

Arthur shook his head as he crossed the shop. The whole place smelled pleasantly like leather, a sort of earthy new-baseball-mitt smell that would have been too strong if it didn’t smell so damn good.

“Rebes, good to see you. And no, not mayor stuff. I’m a customer today,” Arthur said.

“Oh, really? I’m surprised. Your current shoes looked pretty good to me, how are they now?”

“You checked my shoes before?”

“Arthur, I’m a cobbler. I look at everyone’s shoes. It’s a curse. You’re at a party and a good-looking woman walks by, but she catches you looking at her feet. Giving the wrong impression is a hazard of the field.”

“It sounds rough,” Arthur said.

“Eh, it could be worse. I know a guy who works in supportive undergarments.”

Arthur made the obligatory sympathetic yikes face before continuing on.

“Well, fair enough. These aren’t worn out. I just haven’t been shopping in a while, and I have coins burning holes in my purse. I just wanted to see what was possible, if that isn’t too annoying.”

“Annoying?” Rebes let loose a single loud laugh and slapped the counter in front of him with an open palm. “Arthur, that’s best-case scenario for a guy like me. Absolutely. Let's see what’s possible. What are we working with now?”

Arthur reached down and unlaced his shoes before throwing a questioning gesture at the counter. Once Rebes indicated it was okay, Arthur laid the shoes on the counter, where the shoemaker immediately started examining them with an expert eye.

“These aren’t bad. City made?”

“Yeah. I picked them up at my tailor’s shop. I assumed they were pretty good.”

“They are. He probably contracted his shoes out. Whoever made these was a higher level than me. The stitching alone shows that.”

Arthur’s heart sunk. “So you can’t do better?”

“I didn’t say that. These are great shoes, but they were just another day at work for the guy who made them. I can’t do better than this other cobbler’s best, but I can do better than his normal if I give it my all. It will just take time.”

“That’s actually what I was thinking of,” Arthur said with a smile. “I figured for the kind of thing I want, it would be a project. I came in here ready for that.”

“Wait.” Rebes got suddenly serious. “Arthur, I want to be clear. Sometimes people come in here saying the kind of stuff you are saying, and then I start talking exact numbers, and they break my heart. I’m going to roughly estimate the costs we are talking about here at a couple different levels. You can tell me if you still want it after that.”

Rebes pulled a box from under the table and extracted several leather samples from it, explaining what each one was and why he used them. Some were for different parts of shoes and emphasized either toughness or flexibility, but there were also different tiers of each, all with different associated prices. None of the prices were low. These were monster materials, things the leather worker had bought from the town’s stocks or directly from dungeoneers and then processed himself.

Rebes then went through choices he could make on how he made the shoes. It wasn’t especially detailed, since he seemed to understand there was only so much Arthur could take in at a time. But the implication was clear that more money bought more shoe-making time, which meant better shoes.

As Rebes kept talking, Arthur did some quick mental math. The best leather with the most time-consuming techniques would cost the Demon-World-to-Earth equivalent of somewhere between a nice vacation and a brand-new car. That shocked him for a moment, until he realized the shoes would potentially last the entire rest of his life and were, for all intents and purposes, pretty much fulfilling the same purpose a car would on Earth.

And Arthur had the money. This would be a big enough purchase to put a dent in his funds, but it wouldn’t get anywhere close to bankrupting him. When he first started drawing an income in the Demon World, he was confused about how people actually managed to spend all the money they were making.

Now he had the answer. Necessities were cheap, even good necessities from the hands of skilled craftsmen. But it was now clear that actual money was spent on custom, time-consuming goods ordered by people who particularly wanted the best in a particular category.

Arthur held up a hand, cutting Rebes off as politely as he could. Briefly he wondered if this was the same experience as going into a running shoe store on Earth, though there probably weren’t shoes that would cost a car.

“I think I get it now,” Arthur said.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. Sorry.” Rebes looked like he was entirely expecting Arthur to back out, and started loading the leather samples back into the box. “If it’s not what you were expecting, I do have some very nice stuff on the shelf.”

Arthur grinned. “Nope, that’s all fine. I’ll take the top stuff. Materials and technique.”

“Really?”

“Really. And I want to talk about what enchantments might be available for them,” Arthur said as he did a finger dance on the countertop. “Anything that will make my feet happy. I’m assuming you have to contract that out, right?”

Rebes blinked at Arthur, looked down at his leather samples, and took a deep, steadying breath. As Arthur watched, he strode around the counter, grabbed both sides of Arthur’s face, and laid a loud, comic kiss directly on his forehead.

“Sir, may you live one thousand years,” Rebes said. “I mean it. These are going to be the best shoes I’ve ever made. What design do you want?”

“You’ve seen how I spend my days. Use your professional judgment.”

Rebes kissed him on the forehead again. Arthur let it slide. It seemed to be his language.

“And, actually, could you double up this order?” Arthur asked.

“Arthur, these shoes are never going to wear out. I mean that literally. You simply won’t be able to break them. I promise.”

“I don’t mean for me. I mean for Mizu. I’ll send her by for measurements. Just don’t tell her what it’s for if you can.” Arthur pulled out a sum of money big enough to cover the construction of both pairs of shoes and the enchantments that would go on them later.

Rebes stared down at it and started mumbling. “Two pairs of shoes. Best I can make. Paid in advance.” He grabbed a tape measure off the counter and ducked down to Arthur’s feet. “I’m going to do some measurements, and then you’re going to the enchantress to talk about what you want out of shoes. I’ll compare notes with her later and finalize the package. I’m kicking you out.”

“Did I…” Arthur made a confused face as Rebes individually measured each of his toes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. It’s just that if you stay in my shop any longer than that, I’m going to try and adopt you.” Rebes rolled the tape measure back up as he stood. “And I don’t want to deal with that much paperwork. I have shoes to make.”