For once, Elian Rho woke up without brain fog.
He sat in silence, cup in hand, watching the morning haze filter through the glass wall of his apartment. The taste was familiar now: dark and smooth with a bitter-chocolate finish, the faint earthy kick of lion's mane, and a lingering clarity like cold air in a high mountain pass.
Neurobrew Prime.
The perfected formula. No crash, no jitters. Just unrelenting clarity—like a piano key held in endless vibration.
He could feel the neuroplasticity boost kicking in. Connections formed like quantum entanglement chains inside his mind. The capacitor optimization puzzle that had haunted him for weeks? Solved last night between sips. AI architectural redesign? Already queued in his notes.
Jenna strolled in, still half-asleep in sweats, her own cup steaming.
"Already plotting to take over another industry?" she mumbled.
"I'm thinking," Elian replied absently, "we should buy a coffee café."
That woke her up.
"Sorry, what?"
He set his mug down with the precision of a man mid-breakthrough. "I want to patent Neurobrew Prime. But more than that—I want to commercialize it. Direct control. No licensing deals—not yet. We release it ourselves. Build credibility, test distribution, collect data."
Jenna raised an eyebrow. "Bit of a detour from quantum processors and AI, don't you think?"
"It's temporary," Elian said. "But this—" he held up the cup—"this is scalable. Repeatable. And it works. A soft launch gives us early revenue while our tech matures. We attract biohackers, devs, founders, overworked office drones—basically everyone we want in our orbit."
Jenna exhaled slowly, gears turning. "So we buy something low-risk and already failing. Cheap, clean finances, manageable lease, existing licenses. Refurbish, rebrand, relaunch."
"Exactly. We don't need a franchise. Just a testbed."
Jenna walked toward the kitchen, tapping her tablet. "I'll run listings for struggling cafés. Preferably with licenses intact."
"And," Elian added, "get our IP firm to file the Neurobrew patent. Fast. Before someone tries to reverse-engineer it."
She gave him a sharp look. "Someone will try."
"I know. But they don't have the formula. Or the science system. We do."
Four Days Later – The Deal
The café they bought had once been charming. Tucked into a side street near a university campus, it opened during the tail end of the third-wave coffee boom—then crashed during the logistics crisis and staff turnover. The owners were exhausted. The espresso machine leaked. Foot traffic was a ghost.
Elian saw potential.
They closed the deal in under 48 hours, renamed it Prime Grounds, and overhauled the interior with minimalist tech aesthetics: dark wood, ambient lighting, a logo that resembled a neural waveform wrapped around a steaming mug.
Jenna managed the transition like a military campaign—lease terms, staff rehiring, equipment upgrades, liability clauses. Even the packaging design for their in-house sachets was branded and registered within a week.
Sometimes I wonder if she chose the wrong career, Elian thought.
Meanwhile, Elian sat with a patent lawyer, pacing.
"How long for the provisional?" he asked.
"Filed within 48 hours," the lawyer said. "Temporary coverage is yours. But with a formulation this chemically dense, we'll need third-party testing to bulletproof it."
"Do it. And add psychological performance data. I'll write it myself."
"And the product name?"
"Neurobrew Prime."
The lawyer blinked. "Sounds… intimidating."
"Good."
The Public Awakens
Elian didn't expect the soft launch to go viral.
But by Day Two, it was already trending on Reddit's r/biohackers and r/programming:
[TASTED THE ELIXIR OF GODS – "NEUROBREW PRIME" FROM SOME SCIENTIST CAFE IN CAMDEN]
"Not gonna lie, I wrote 300 lines of C++ and cleaned my room. Coincidence? I THINK NOT." – u/Code_Lord42
"Drank this coffee and blacked out for 4 hours. Came to with a startup pitch and a 12-slide deck." – @sleepis4noobs
"Wtf is lion's mane and why do I want more of it??" – YouTube comment
Civilians, students, office workers, indie devs—word spread like a chemical fire.
Some customers came in skeptical. Most left wide-eyed.
People described strange clarity. Vivid dreams. Productivity spikes. A few joked it was "like Adderall for grown-ups." A viral TikTok showed someone sipping it before beating Elden Ring and filing taxes in one sitting.
Within a week, queues wrapped around the block.
By Day Ten, they were shipping sealed sachets by courier across the country.
The Corporate Knock
On Day Twelve, Jenna returned to the office, amused and slightly terrified.
"Elian," she said, "Nestlé called."
He looked up. "The same Nestlé that supplies our department's terrible coffee?"
"Yep. They want a meeting. Something about licensing Neurobrew under their 'scientific wellness' division. Also, Starbucks sent someone. Quiet guy in a suit. Didn't buy anything. Just sat in the corner and took notes."
Elian blinked. "What's Nestlé offering?"
"Preliminary: $12 million for North American rights. Up to $40M with milestones. I told them we're not selling."
He leaned back. "...We need a finance department."
She tossed a folder on his desk. "Here's a better idea—let's start the parent company. I already drafted the structure: Quantum Nexus as the holding firm, Prime Grounds for consumer ops, Nexus Labs for tech."
He smiled. "Jenna, marry me."
She rolled her eyes, cheeks pink. "Buy me a decaf version first."
Then she left the office.
Did she just blush? Elian wondered.
System Notification
[Enterprise Milestone Achieved: Multi-Branch Development Path Activated]
[Reward: +3 System Points | 1x Optimization Token]
[Suggestion: Begin Foundational Algorithm Research to Support Autonomous System Assistants]
A glowing icon appeared in his vision.
Optimization Token: usable to enhance any existing technology.
Elian tapped the icon and frowned.
The paperwork was piling up—hiring, logistics, patents, funding meetings. A bureaucratic avalanche.
He rubbed his eyes. "If this keeps up, I'm going to need an AI just to read my inbox."
Jenna passed by, carrying contracts. "Say that louder. Maybe the system will make one for you."
He didn't laugh.
Because he was going to build it.
But first…
He had to understand the nature of algorithms themselves.