Joe woke on a sandy beach. The tropical breeze blew through his hair and waves lapped at the shore metres away. Tropical palms grew to his right with coconuts ready to fall from the branch.
He could have been in a tropical paradise like Madagascar or Costa Rica. He'd visited both during his empire building. Both were excellent for cultivation of coffee plants with the right climate, rainfall and temperature.
Yes he could have been in either, if not for the twin suns in the sky.
True both were a comforting yellow, familiar and reassuring. If he glanced at either in isolation, there was no concern. It was only when one considered the broader picture that you felt stress creeping in. That was what his brain had trained itself to do over the years, stress about the bigger picture.
Joe fell back into the sand and made a sand angel. He let the beach soothe him as he stared at clouds and pointedly ignored the two suns. After all where had stressing got him? In a boardroom with Brannigan and his lackeys.
After a decent amount of time staring at clouds, his stomach rumbled at him. Ah so he wasn't dead then, he still needed food. Most pleasing, after coffee he enjoyed food as another guilty pleasure.
Standing again, Joe found himself in a pair of hempen brown pants and sleeveless brown vest. His skin tone remained bronzed from sun exposure, and interestingly he found himself no hotter than he expected even with two suns.
Things weighed down both of the pockets in his vest. On the left hand side he found some unroasted coffee beans, along with roasted but unground ones, both from the Grounds of Service. He recognised the fine differences in the Arabica bean, particularly the variant they'd been cultivating at headquarters. Brannigan had thought it had just been a tourist trap, but it was another way he had planned to revolutionise the industry.
In his right right pocket he found a wallet with a series of odd large coins, like pirate dubloons with a symbol of a white and blue flower, chicory perhaps? Rustling around beneath the coins he found a small necklace with a goat head symbol on it. The goats head was smiling with glee, and it was cut from some sort of white timber. The eyes were green and appeared to be gemstones? Holding it up, he slipped it over his head and tucked it under his vest.
A faint pulse fired from his sternum, where the goat necklace sat, all the way down to his navel. Joe considered looking for strange runic marking or scars. He tapped his finger on his chin.
'Nah.' He strode barefoot into the water and started making his way along the beach, enjoying the tropical warm sea.
He contemplated this new world he'd found himself in. He'd need to find water, and that would hopefully lead him to civilisation. The coins suggested some civilised form of commerce, though there was no guarantee that humans would be the main race. They could be crab people for all he knew.
Walking along the beach he felt his old life stresses fading away. Already the idea of sitting in corporate boardrooms was a fleeting memory, and as long he could find somewhere to eat, sleep and enjoy coffee, he would be content.
The beach continued for some time until he spotted a river mouth down the coastline. Both suns had crossed from morning to midday by the time he was in sight of the river mouth, and he was starting to feel parched. He hadn't spotted any berries or fruits but the coconuts were starting to look more delicious every second.
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Eyeing the distance to the village, he scurried up a coconut palm and knocked free a shell. It cracked partially on the way down, and with a decent rock, he cracked the fruit wide open. Coconut water filled the inside and he took a sip with glee. Sweet but not overpowering with a tang to it.
Carefully he tried a bit of the white pulp, testing it to see if it carried the warning scent of poison. Though really, did he want to live in a world with poisoned coconuts anyway? It would only be worse if he was in a world of martial artist cultivators who ruled by might makes right.
Gradually the river mouth came closer and he was pleased to see a moderate sized harbour formed around it. Along the harbour were small fishing vessels docked with ropes and wooden gangplanks. The boats appeared to be age of sailing level technology, without steam driven engines. People were vaguely visible on the docks at this distance, humanoids rather than crab people, orcs or face eating aliens.
Spreading out from the harbour were mostly one or two story buildings, without signs of electricity. Farm lands stretched along the flats behind them, growing some sort of wheat, maybe barley? He also recognised fields of blue flowers that were again, probably chicory.
Behind the farm land, mountains rose sharply, the elevation steeply changing from tropical palms through to more hilly terrain. There was rainforest at the lower levels and then it grew more sparse higher up the mountain.
Joe wandered into the fields around town, nodding at the people he passed. A few of them stopped and stared, but most were too busy weeding, planting or harvesting. Interesting that they would have the process all mixed up between the fields. His business mind kicked on, and he had to tamp it down like a well ground coffee.
He did listen to the conversations as he passed, and pleasingly it was English. Or he was understanding some other language now. Made no difference in the end. The comments were the usual from hard working folk.
'Looks like rain.'
'Not enough rain.'
'Taxes too high.'
'I hear those cultivators in the capital keep raising them. For their "research" and "alchemy"'.
Joe's mouth quirked at the mention of cultivators. Interesting, though he had no plans of becoming a sage on a mountain or fighting the apocalypse beast of the end times, no more than he did of building another commercial empire.
Walking up the road he stopped at the first cafe he came to. It was a rustic affair with a sign outside with a drawn picture of rising bread and a mug of coffee. He tapped the coins in his pocket, time to get a baseline for value.
Walking through the door a bell tinkled gently. Inside a woman in her mid twenties with long flowing blonde hair tended to pastries in a windowsill like they were her own children. She turned to coat more in powdered sugar and suddenly her nose twitched adorably. She sneezed and powdered sugar shot back in her face. She wiped it off, her button nose twitched again and her deep blue eyes sparkling in amusement. She had the sort of smile that lit up a room, yet he noted faint frown lines ingrained at the side of her temples.
Joe wandered over, spotting a pot of something brewing over a rustic stove. It gave off a nutty scent, and he couldn't place the variety. That was odd. Arabica or Rustica he never usually struggled. Excelsa and Liberica were far less common and even he wasn't infallible on those. Could be an off blend.
'G'day Miss...' Joe said.
'Bethany. Welcome to Bee's Bakery, how can I help you today?' She said, snapping to attention. She was razor focused, though those frown lines stuck around at the edge of her face.
'I'll take a pastry. Is this enough?' Joe slid a coin across the table. Bethany's eyes went wide and she coughed. 'I think we've got change, I'll have to go check the safe, Mr....'
'Joe. Call me Joe. Just got here and loving the town.' He nodded. He was doing alright then, as he had counted out fifty coins in my pouch all of the same denomination.
'Well Joe, welcome to Chicory Harbour. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.' She smiled again, handing me the pastry. I bit into my pastry and the flavours were on point. A tasty honey filled the inside of a sweet bun, without making the bread soggy.
Damn, Joe thought, maybe he'd stick around for a while. The people seemed hard working, the food delicious and he could probably get a job as a farmer. Chicory Harbour seemed like a place to get comfortable.
'Well throw in a pot of coffee, to make the change easier.' Joe said.
Bethany blanched adorably, and wrinkled up her nose. 'What's coffee?'