Chapter 7: Returning Home Part 7

In Irellexia, there’s a saying:

“Coincidence is the goddess’s guidance.”

There’s no such thing as mere coincidence in the way the world operates.

Everything we experience is determined by causes and effects.

The outcomes we encounter might seem insignificant at times, but they can also bring immense joy and delight.

Like bumping into an old friend you hadn’t seen for years on a busy street in another city.

Or finding something you needed at a bargain price while walking down the street.

Or discovering a rare book you thought was impossible to find, hidden in a corner of a local library.

Whenever such pleasant occurrences happen, people thank the goddess.

In fact, the saying itself is one actively promoted by the church.

Of course, they slyly avoid using it when something bad happens—that’s clever in its own way.

Having spoken directly to the goddess myself, I’d say the saying is only half true.

The goddess doesn’t interfere with everything in the world.

A deity who respects the free will of sentient beings wouldn’t manipulate everyone’s destiny at whim.

After all, even if the person might enjoy such interventions, a life dictated solely by divine intent could never truly be considered their own.

That said, it’s not as if guidance doesn’t exist at all.

If a virtuous person, capable of drawing upon divine power, finds themselves in danger, in distress, or in need of something, the goddess willingly offers help.

Of course, it’s never as blatant as saying, “Here it is.”

It’s more like this: you hear an unexpected sound or notice a glimmer in the corner of your eye, which leads you to find exactly what you need.

Or you bend down to examine a flower blooming in the field, and just then, an arrow flies past where your head was moments ago.

While these events might occasionally be pure coincidences, if the goddess is behind them, one usually feels a sense of divinity afterward.

My companions and I experienced this sensation several times during our journey to defeat the Demon King.

Perhaps…

Perhaps my stumbling upon this bakery was also the goddess’s guidance.

I thought it likely—after all, the timing was just too perfect.

“May your path be filled with hope and happiness. May you meet me again, smiling, and say you have no regrets.”

That’s what the goddess had said…

So, it’s up to me to pave the road ahead.

Feeling a bit awkward, I grabbed a tray near the entrance and a pair of tongs with a plastic handle.

It was my first time in a bakery like this, but I could figure out the basics.

I could sense her looking at me.

Observing… or maybe just finding me a bit curious.

Would it be a success if I left a strong impression on her?

…Not that I could say it was intentional.

Fortunately, the bakery’s selection wasn’t overly complicated.

Most of the bread was the kind you’d expect in a typical bakery.

The prices weren’t high, just as I’d guessed from the shop’s appearance.

I wasn’t sure if she worked here part-time or held a position equivalent to a manager.

Either way, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she was the one setting the prices.

Of course, these weren’t like the bread from that childhood bakery, where three pieces sold for 1,000 won… But the portions here were larger, at least.

One cream bread, one custard bread, and one streusel bun.

With trembling hands, I placed them on the tray.

These were the breads we had chosen back then.

I liked cream bread; she preferred custard bread.

The last streusel bun was something we always split between us.

I stopped and let out a bitter smile.

Surely, there were countless people picking bread in a similar way.

Even if she remembered what kind of bread we used to buy, it wasn’t likely she’d care about a stranger buying bread for the first time.

After all, these were the most basic selections.

Still, my heart raced.

At least I’d found a way to reconnect with her.

If we grew close, maybe I could ask her about Mom.

I missed her, too.

…Despite being the one who asked for a new body to avoid recognition from those who had already passed, here I was, thinking about growing closer to these two people.

I’d always claimed I had no lingering attachments, yet it seemed I was more attached than anyone.

“Hoo…”

With my back turned to her, I let out a small sigh.

Calm down.

If I acted too suspiciously, things could go wrong.

I steadied myself as much as I could and slowly turned around.

She was still standing there.

No, to be fair, I’d taken so long that she probably had no choice but to wait.

After all, she was an employee here.

Despite trying to keep my composure, my hands shook slightly as I approached her.

Luckily, I hadn’t piled too much bread on the tray, or I might’ve dropped it.

“Shall I ring this up for you?”

When I reached the counter, she greeted me with a smile.

Her warm brown eyes curved gently, just as kind as I remembered.

Meeting her gaze for the first time in five years, I felt oddly flustered and quickly lowered my eyes.

Lee Ahyun.

That was the name on the tag pinned to her chest.

Yes, it was definitely her—the person I knew.

“Ah, um, uh…”

I tried to say something, anything, but my words spilled out incomplete.

I was happy.

So happy.

I thought I could meet her calmly and strike up a conversation like a stranger, but standing so close to her, I didn’t know what to say.

There was so much I wanted to tell her.

It’s been so long. Have you been well?

You wouldn’t believe it, but I came from another world.

I learned magic, mastered swordsmanship, befriended elves, earned a knighthood, and even fought the Demon King to save the world…

But in this world, no one would believe such tales.

Not even her.

As I struggled to find the right words, she quietly began ringing up the bread.

“Would you like these wrapped?”

“Ah, uh, no!”

She softly asked while waiting for me to gather myself.

Startled, I shouted and quickly lifted my head.

Our eyes met again.

She was smiling kindly at me.

“Will you be dining in?”

She asked again, and I nodded.

“There’s a table inside over there by the window, and there are also seats outside.”

She gestured politely to a table by the window as she spoke.

“Then I’ll eat here…”

Thanks to her calm response, I managed to reply properly this time.

After the payment was complete, I slowly walked toward the table.

Placing the tray down, I sat on the chair.

Warm sunlight streamed in through the window.

Although the summer sun was still hot, it was surprisingly bearable—maybe thanks to once having awakened as a hero.

I let out a long sigh.

Did she find me strange…? Probably not.

She’d always been a kind person, not the type to get annoyed over something like this.

And thankfully, my current appearance didn’t exude any threatening vibes.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I now had a woman’s body.

If I were still significantly taller and male, my behavior might have felt intimidating from her perspective.

Then again, knowing her, she probably wouldn’t have judged me unfairly even then.

I stared silently at the bread on my tray.

This bread… it was likely made by her.

She’d been busy moving about earlier in the bakery.

I pressed my finger lightly against the cream bread.

It had been stored in the refrigerated display.

Its appearance was just like the bread we used to buy as kids—long and sliced lengthwise, filled with cream.

But was there something different about it?

I glanced in her direction briefly before looking back at the bread.

She’d been glancing this way intently for a while now.

Perhaps it was simply because I was the only customer here.

Anyway, I focused back on the bread.

It was filled with cream—more than I remembered.

It looked softer and seemed more prone to squishing.

Was it a different kind?

Slowly, I took a bite.

Ah.

It’s different.

The cream in the bread I ate as a child felt a bit firmer, but this one was soft and collapsed smoothly.

The sweet, soft texture blending with the bread in my mouth made it clear this wasn’t the same as what I had as a child.

What was it? What was different?

I chewed slowly, lost in thought.

Then it hit me—it reminded me of the whipped cream cakes I occasionally got to taste.

Yes, this “cream-like” feeling was exactly like that.

It also brought to mind soft-serve ice cream…

So, was the cream in the bread I had as a child not made from dairy?

As I pondered this and continued to chew the bread slowly—

“Here, have this while you eat.”

“Guh!?”

The sudden voice beside me startled me so much I nearly spit out the bread I was chewing.

I turned toward the sound, and there she was.

Smiling faintly at my flustered state, she placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of me.

“No need to pay for this,” she said.

“Ah, um…”

As I tried to reply, I realized my mouth was still full of bread.

Hastily, I chewed and swallowed.