Master of the System

Smith Jr. panted, leaning his back against the arena wall. Everything around him was dead. There were corpses of the strangely dressed people. There were corpses of the goblins, little green humanoid things with sharp fangs and pointy claws. It was hard to describe the horde of goblins as anything other than a sea of green bodies. Even though Smith Jr. had positioned himself in the center of the humans, it took less than a minute for him to be exposed. If it weren’t for the fact he was already at the second stage of qi condensation thanks to the Stinky-Dog’s Cooking Techniques, he would’ve exhausted himself and died. Luckily, goblins were weak, and even an ordinary weapon could kill them in one hit as long as the blow wasn’t superficial.

To Smith Jr.’s surprise, none of the other humans survived. A few were still living when the last goblin was slain, but as soon as the goblin died, all the remaining humans dropped to the ground as if their souls had exited their bodies. It seemed like they were just people created by the system, which Smith Jr. was thankful for. He didn’t like seeing people die, and he definitely didn’t enjoy using them as shields, but if they were just golems in the system, his conscience was free. In fact, he was a bit happy. Maybe Tutor Golem 3000 was piloting one of the humans and was slain. Just the thought about the sadistic golem dying improved Smith Jr.’s mood.

[Young martial chef, good job on surviving! You’re well on your way to becoming an immortal martial cook. I hope you look forward to tomorrow’s training session.]

[Mission: A Warrior’s First Steps Completed]

[Reward: Vremya’s Combat Techniques]

Tomorrow’s training session? Smith Jr. frowned as he read the message in his vision. It felt like he had spent the whole day inside of the arena. What about the store? What about his original egg fried rice mission? More importantly, what would Eula think? He didn’t give her any warning about the store’s closure for a day. What if she was worried about him? Luckily for Smith Jr., there was a golem out there who wasn’t going to let him drown in negativity.

“If you have time to think, you have time to practice your knife skills.”

A long arm stretched out from the sky and grabbed onto Smith Jr’s shoulder. Like a piece of rubber, the arm shrank, and Smith Jr. was catapulted upwards. He let out a tiny scream as he was dragged through the air and into a portal. A moment later, he was staring up at the faceless countenance of Tutor Golem 3000. The golem seemed to be frowning at him despite its lack of lips. “You could’ve trained your knife skills on the goblins by pretending as if they were radishes. Why didn’t you chop up their bodies?”

Like hell he could pretend goblins were radishes! Smith Jr. didn’t let his annoyance show on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke the sadistic golem. He was still wary of the knife that had replaced its whip. “I wasn’t thinking at the time,” Smith Jr. said, coming up with what he thought was a reasonable excuse. “I wasn’t expecting to be thrust into such a dangerous situation. The only thing I could think about was surviving, not training.”

“Do less thinking. Practice more.” The golem grabbed Smith Jr. and carried him away from the corner before placing him into the kitchen. “There is still half an hour left before the store opens for business. Train your knife skills now. From now on, your training shall be increased. The radishes shall no longer be pre-killed for you to practice on.”

The radishes won’t be pre-killed? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Smith Jr.’s brow furrowed as he approached his practice bench, the little section in the kitchen reserved for his training. He looked around, but he didn’t see the garden that he expected to exist. Didn’t he have to pick the radishes himself? That’s what the golem’s words seemed to have implied. Smith Jr. opened the box sitting next to the table, and an ear-splitting scream rang out the instant the lid came off. A green and white beast with dozens of radishes dangling off of it leapt out of the box. It wasn’t that large, but it wasn’t small either. It was the size of a small bear, and Smith Jr. wasn’t quite sure how it was able to fit inside such a tiny box. However, he didn’t have to wonder for long. The radish-bear-thing charged at him, and without even thinking about it, Smith Jr.’s body contorted, avoiding the bear’s charge while positioning himself perfectly for an attack. He swung his chef’s knife, neatly cutting a radish off the creature’s body without bruising it.

***

Eula descended from her carriage and entered her favorite little store. Well, upon entering, it wasn’t quite so little as it first looked. Just like the restaurant’s name, there were times when the restaurant itself changed sizes as well…. Eula shook her head, getting rid of the strange thoughts floating in her mind. It was all Boss Smith’s fault for giving his store such a dirty name! She adjusted her veil, making sure it could hide the blush on her cheeks, and she looked around. Recently, the boss hadn’t been sitting outside. He seemed to be in the kitchen more often. If it were any other store, Eula would assume he was prepping food, but considering the only dishes this restaurant sold were egg fried rice and pickled radishes, she didn’t think he was always doing food prep.

There was a slight thumping sound, and Eula thought she heard a scream. It wasn’t likely, but it was still possible for people to commit crimes in the capital city. She wondered who had the audacity to stir things up in broad daylight, but that’s all she did about it. She took her usual seat and folded her hands in her lap. She suspected there was some kind of alarm in the kitchen that alerted the boss whenever a customer arrived because he usually appeared right as she made herself comfortable. As always, Boss Smith came out of the kitchen right on time. However, he didn’t look like he usually did. He stunk, and his clothes were covered in blood. It looked like he had just dragged himself back from a warzone. She couldn’t help but ask, “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Smith Jr. flinched before looking down at himself. “Oh, yeah. I’m doing great. Some things came up yesterday, and I couldn’t open the store.”

Eula tilted her head. “I don’t think you’re doing as great as you think you are,” she said. “I was here yesterday. Did you hit your head on something?”

Smith Jr. blinked. “Never mind….” He cleared his throat. “Are you ordering the usual?”

“Yep,” Eula said, nodding her head. “An egg fried rice and a plate of picked radish.” She sighed and glanced at the blackboard. “It’s a shame you don’t have any new meals yet. It’d be nice to eat more of your amazing dishes.”

Smith Jr. said something, but Eula wasn’t paying attention. A line of text had appeared in her vision right after she had finished her sentence.

[Would you like to eat this restaurant’s food whenever and wherever you wanted to with no limits on the number of servings?]

Eula swallowed. Was she hallucinating? Perhaps she was still dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time she dreamed about waking up, doing her morning routine, and realizing she was still asleep and had to do it all over again. Smith Jr. had already walked back to the kitchen, leaving Eula alone with the floating line of text. “Uh, yes?” she asked in a whisper.

[You’ve accepted to become the host of Vremya’s Army Leader System Alpha v0.1.0.]

Eula blinked three times while tilting her head. What the heck was going on? “Hang on. When did I accept this?”

[Young general, the text you’re reading is composed of even smaller text. By agreeing to the previous line, you’ve signed a thirty-seven-page contract. Please do your best as the host of Vremya’s Army Leader System Alpha v0.1.0. There’s no need to feel any pressure. Even if the host dies, all relevant information shall be saved and used to create Vremya’s Army Leader System Alpha v0.1.1.]

Eula scratched her head. “Was the thing about the food a lie?”

[No. Army rations shall be cooked by the host of Vremya’s Martial Cooking System Alpha v0.1.0.]

Eula rubbed her chin. Well, even if she was tricked, the deal didn’t seem to be too one-sided. As long as she got to eat delicious food every day, she was willing to accept some text randomly popping up once in a while.