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Vremya was sitting on a couch with a bowl of egg fried rice in one hand, a spoon in the other. The display in front of him showed a view of the restaurant he had designated as his holy land. Without claiming the shop as his territory, he wouldn’t be able to deliver or receive eggs and spirit stones, making the whole purpose of the restaurant pointless. Beside the livestream of the store, there was a counter, and every time a customer came in and ordered a bowl of egg fried rice, the counter would increase by two. Right now, the number was at sixteen.
Vremya finished his bowl of rice and licked his lips. He nudged Karta, who was laying on the couch beside him. “Didn’t you say this was the best way to make money? How come it seems like it failed.”
On the livestream, the restaurant was closing. It was currently the fourth day since the restaurant had been open for business, but there had only been one customer. She would enter the restaurant at the same time every day and order the same meal—not like there were any other options.
Karta rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It takes a while for cooking systems to get going, but when they do, they’re basically money printing machines.”
Vremya stared at the number in the upper-right corner. He had invested, well, Karta had invested over ten thousand spirit stones into the restaurant to teach Smith Jr. how to cook. He had invested a dozen heaven-grade spirit stones on thunder chickens and a caretaking golem. At the rate the cooking system was making money, Smith Jr. might die before the two gods could recoup their investment. Well, if cooking systems were a failed investment, then they wouldn’t be as popular as they were. Vremya shook his head. “Now that Smith jr. completed the first mission, don’t you think it’s time I start up another system?”
Karta sneered. “You should monitor your current system some more,” she said. “After it fails a few times, you’ll be comfortable enough to start another system.”
“You think I’ll fail even though I bought this information packet?” Vremya raised an eyebrow. Could that be the case? He had been following the so-called cooking-system walkthrough that he purchased from the marketplace. It was written by Gid, the god of guides.
“There’s some things you can only learn by doing,” Karta said. “All the reading in the world won’t help when it really comes down to it.”
Vremya rubbed his chin. “It sounds like you’ve failed a lot.”
The Labrador Retriever’s lips pulled back, revealing her teeth. “Who’s the one that died to some mere mortals?”
Vremya snorted. His first attempt of reaching the peak as a lower lifeform wasn’t a failure. It was a test run to gather information. As for making another attempt, …he was busy right now. It could always be attempted again later. “Alright, let’s see just how this cooking system can fail.”
“You want to bet on it?” Karta asked and stared at Vremya with half a grin.
“No.”
***
Smith Jr. sighed as he stared up at the sky. After working hellishly to learn how to cook egg fried rice, he could finally take a break. He was free to leave the shop! …But he couldn’t go beyond the bounds of the fence. Whenever he tried, Red Asura would grab him and pull him back inside. The system gave him some excuse about the outside world being dangerous, but Smith Jr. didn’t believe it. He suspected he was going to be imprisoned until he paid off his debt like an indentured servant. However, what could he do other than obediently listen? Besides, it wasn’t too different from being a laborer in a sect. The wooden chair he was sitting on was much more comfortable than the ones back in the sect too.
“Good morning, Boss,” a feminine voice said.
Smith Jr. lowered his head and made eye contact with the woman standing before him. She was dressed in fine robes, and a transparent veil covered her face. Despite the fact she was his only customer, Smith Jr. didn’t know her name or her status, but she must’ve been someone important or the daughter or wife of someone important because the price of the egg fried rice was simply too much for a commoner. Other people had entered his store, attracted by the interior, but they called him a scammer and left upon seeing the blackboard. Only this woman had taken the chance to buy his bowl of rice.
“Hello?”
Smith Jr. cleared his mind and stood up. “Good morning,” he said and nodded at the woman, his face slightly red. He scratched his neck and turned to the side before pulling the door open for the lady. “After you.”
“Boss is polite as usual,” the lady said and let out a low giggle.
Smith Jr. scratched his neck again as the woman entered the restaurant. He followed in behind her and headed to the kitchen while she took a seat. The restaurant wasn’t very large, only having four small tables, enough for eight people. Before Smith Jr. entered the kitchen, he leaned over such that his head was poking out from the hallway. “One egg fried rice?”
A wry smile appeared on the woman’s lips, one that Smith Jr. could barely see thanks to the veil. “Is there any other dish?”
Smith Jr. blushed and pulled back, scratching his neck again. What was he thinking by asking that question? He was so stupid! He couldn’t help but mutter, “System, isn’t there a faster way to unlock recipes? The more dishes I can sell, the faster I’ll make spirit stones.”
[New Mission: Knife Practice]
[Young chef, a swordsman trains every day with a sword. An artist paints every day with a brush. As a chef, you must train every day with a knife. From now on, the system will provide radishes for you to hone your knife skills. Follow the training! (Can only be completed before and after the restaurants business hours.)]
[Reward: Pickled Radish Recipe]
Smith Jr. stared nearly walked into the countertop thanks to the message blocking his view. It was that easy to request a mission from the system? Why didn’t he ask for this four days ago?
***
“Radish seeds, radish seeds,” Karta mumbled as she rummaged through her bag. When she pulled a satchel out, there was a pinging sound. “Eh?”
“What’s the problem?” Vremya asked, turning his head away from the display.
“Mm, someone sent me a message,” Karta said with a furrowed brow. “The snack gods are holding a meeting, and they sent me an invite. Ugh, I don’t want to go.” She glanced at Vremya, and her eyes lit up. “You should totally come with me.”
Vremya furrowed his brow. He wasn’t a snack god. “Why would I do that?”
“Because misery loves company.” Karta cleared her throat. “I mean, it’ll be a good thing for you to meet more gods. No offense, but you’re kind of socially dumb.”
Vremya stared at Karta and swore in his mind that he was going to hurt the god who made the rule against hurting gods.