2 Days Later
"Morning, Central!"
Rimuru flipped the "Open" sign on the bakery door, smiling as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the windows. The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread—an aroma that Rimuru had perfected in the past week.
Despite being the ruler of an entire nation, he found kneading dough oddly therapeutic.
"Master, are you certain you want to handle this without my assistance?" Ciel's voice chimed in his head one last time.
"Yes, Ciel," Rimuru replied, adjusting his apron. "You've done enough already. I want to experience everything myself, a normal life.. Hopefully"
"As you wish," Ciel said. "I will remain dormant unless summoned. However, I will monitor emergencies and alert you if necessary."
"Thank you," Rimuru said with a grin. "Now, off you go."
With a soft hum of acknowledgment, Ciel's presence faded, leaving Rimuru entirely alone.
The bell over the door jingled as Rimuru's first customer of the day entered.
"Morning!" Rimuru greeted cheerfully, standing behind the counter.
The customer, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, looked around the bakery in awe. "Oh my, it smells heavenly in here! Did you bake all this yourself?"
"Sure did," Rimuru said, sliding a tray of croissants into view. "First day open, so everything's fresh."
The woman studied him for a moment. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a young lady running a bakery around here before. You're so talented!"
Rimuru froze, his smile twitching slightly. "Actually, I'm not a—"
But she wasn't listening, already pulling out her phone. "My daughter needs to see this! She loves baking, and you'd be such a good role model for her."
Rimuru cleared his throat. "Uh, ma'am, I think there's a misunderstanding. I'm a guy."
The woman blinked, tilting her head. "Oh, really? But your face is so delicate, and your hair—"
"Yes, yes, I get it," Rimuru said, waving his hands. "But trust me, I'm male. 100%."
The woman laughed, clearly not convinced, and walked off with her bread.
The misunderstandings didn't stop there.
"Hey, I heard a cute girl opened a bakery here!" a young man exclaimed as he entered later that afternoon, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw Rimuru at the counter.
"Welcome," Rimuru said, his tone dry.
The man stared, his excitement replaced with awkward confusion. "Oh, uh… sorry. Wrong shop."
Rimuru raised an eyebrow as the man backed out. "You do know this is the only bakery on the street, right?"
As the days went on, Rimuru grew accustomed to the quirky locals.
There was Mrs. Avery, who always insisted on overpaying. Tommy, the teenager who camped out at the counter with his sketchbook, and Mr. Hanson, the grumpy old man who claimed Rimuru's bread was "too fancy" but still bought three loaves every day.
One evening, Rimuru was cleaning up when the door jingled again.
"Sorry, we're closed," he called out without looking up.
"Aw, that's too bad," came a voice. "I wanted to try the cute baker's famous buns."
Rimuru sighed, turning to find a group of teenagers snickering near the door. He crossed his arms. "Do you want bread or a lesson in basic manners?"
The leader of the group—an overly confident guy with bleached hair—laughed. "Relax, sweetheart. We were just kidding. But seriously, you got anything left?"
"Sweetheart?" Rimuru muttered under his breath. His patience was wearing thin.
"Yeah, yeah, we'll take whatever's left," the teen continued, waving his hand dismissively.
Rimuru smiled sweetly. "Sure thing. Just give me a second."
He disappeared into the back and returned with a box filled with experimental bread that hadn't quite turned out right—extra hard crusts, uneven shapes, and one particularly heavy loaf he'd nicknamed "The Brick."
"Here you go," Rimuru said, placing the box on the counter.
The teen looked inside and frowned. "Uh… what's this?"
"The leftovers," Rimuru said, his smile never wavering. "You wanted whatever was left, right? Enjoy."
The group exchanged awkward glances, but Rimuru's unwavering gaze left them no choice.
They paid and left in a hurry, leaving Rimuru chuckling to himself.
... No, he still gave them something to make up for the leftovers, he has to keep appearance and reputation after all.
As he locked up for the night, Rimuru leaned against the counter, gazing out the window at the quiet street.
"Not bad," he muttered, a small smile on his lips. "This whole normal life thing might actually be fun."
Though Ciel was gone for now, Rimuru knew he wasn't completely alone.
He had a bakery, a neighborhood full of strange but endearing customers, and the freedom to live without the weight of responsibility—at least for a while.
After a long night of hero work, Barry Allen, aka The Flash, had just wrapped up another round of saving the city. As he zipped through the quiet streets of Central, passing by a corner near Maple Street, he overheard a group of locals chatting.
"Have you heard about that new bakery here on Maple Street?" one woman asked, her voice full of excitement. "They say it's run by this adorable girl. She's a total cutie."
Another voice chimed in, "I went there yesterday. The bread is to die for, and she's just so sweet. I bet that bakery's going to be the next big thing in town."
Barry, passing by at lightning speed, couldn't help but smirk. "A cute girl running a bakery, huh?" he muttered to himself, intrigued. "Guess I'll check it out tomorrow."