Master of the System

Smith Jr. groaned as he lumbered out of bed. Thanks to the nonstop training supervised by Tutor Golem 3000, he didn’t even remember falling asleep. As usual, Smith Jr. wiped his face with a wet towel and tidied his chef robe which he had spent the night wearing. He opened the door to his room, and to his surprise, there was another door in front of him, across the little walkway. That door hadn’t been there yesterday. Had the system performed another remodeling? It was probably another room to torture him in.

Smith Jr. sighed and exited his room, closing the door behind him. He might as well figure out what new feature had been installed in the restaurant this time. He grasped the handle of the door across from him and turned it. Instead of slowly peeling off the bandage, Smith Jr. was the type to rip it off his skin. He shoved the door open, throwing caution to the wind. A woman shrieked, and Smith Jr.’s face flushed bright red. There was a half-dressed woman attempting to cover herself. “Pervert! Get out!”

Smith Jr. shut the door faster than he pushed it open. What the hell was going on now? A second room had been added to the restaurant, and a beautiful woman was staying inside of it. Smith Jr. looked up at the ceiling. “System?” He didn’t think he had to finish asking the question, believing his tone was enough for the system to understand what he wanted to know.

[The user is just as perverted as the owner! I can’t believe Blagora left me here with someone so…!]

[Tsk. Your user’s just as slow as you are. What kind of person doesn’t lock their door when they’re changing? Don’t blame it on my user.]

Smith Jr. cleared his throat. From the few messages he had seen—the ones that he pretended to not see—he knew the system owner was an actual person, maybe a high-level personage of some sect. According to these new messages, it seemed like the system owner found someone else who also ran systems, and the two came to an agreement. What the agreement entailed, he had no idea, and it wasn’t his place to find out. Smith Jr. pretended not to know a thing, but unfortunately for him, the lady he had just peeped on wasn’t as demure. The door flew open, and a red-faced woman dressed in chef robes stomped out. With a flash of her arm, a handprint appeared on Smith Jr.’s face. “Knock before you enter!”

Smith Jr. placed a hand on his stinging cheek, staring at the woman with a dumbfounded expression. He could only think of one thing to say. “But this is my house….”

At that moment, a line of text popped up in Smith Jr.’s vision.

[New Mission: Have Some Pride!]

[Young martial chef, don’t let that woman walk all over you! How can you claim the spot of head chef without respect from your subordinates? Slap her back!]

[Reward: Vremya’s Pizza Recipe]

Smith Jr. stared at his new mission. He stared past the text at the woman who was still glaring at him with her hands on her hips. Even though she was glaring at him, she was still a beautiful lady. He couldn’t just slap her! Even if it was for a new recipe, as a man, he wouldn’t—

Slap!

Smith Jr. flinched and reflexively touched his other cheek. It was burning as well thanks to the new handprint embedded in his skin. The woman snorted and muttered to herself while clenching and unclenching her hand, “If only all missions were this easy.”

Smith Jr.’s eye twitched. If he wasn’t mistaken, the woman was also given a mission to slap him. It didn’t even seem like she was going to apologize for it either. Since that was the case, why should he behave like a doormat! He raised his hand and swung it towards the woman’s face. Her eyes widened, and she moved her head backwards, but she was too slow to avoid the strike. There was a slapping sound as Smith Jr.’s hand connected with her cheek.

[Well done! If you want to be the head chef of this restaurant, you have to keep all the other chefs below you in check!]

[Mission: Have Some Pride! Completed]

[Reward: Vremya’s Pizza Recipe]

Before Smith Jr. could even examine the pizza recipe that had been engraved in his memories, the woman swung her hand at him again. This time, he was ready for it. He blocked, ducked, and rolled towards the steps. Then, he bolted down the stairs. Luckily, the woman wasn’t as obscenely strong as Paul. “Tutor Golem, help! There’s a troublemaker upstairs!”

A faceless golem appeared in front of Smith Jr., halting his steps. The woman caught up, but she stopped as well upon seeing the golem with a knife in its hands. The golem pointed behind the two, not towards the steps but towards the forbidden corridor—as Smith Jr. liked to call it. “Both of your combat techniques are atrocious. Sparring with one another will only lead to a deterioration in both of your skills.” The golem tapped Smith Jr.’s shoulder. “You know what to do.”

Smith Jr. stared at Tutor Golem 3000. It wasn’t behaving as it usually did. Under normal circumstances, Tutor Golem 3000 would pick him up like a sack of potatoes and unceremoniously toss him into the arena filled with goblins. Smith Jr. nodded and headed towards the arena without protest. It seemed like the owner of his system was trying to save as much face as possible. Being carried around by the golem would be unsightly. The unknown woman glared at the golem. “You thin my combat techniques are bad?”

Tutor Golem 3000 grabbed the unknown woman and slung her over its shoulder before following behind Smith Jr., ignoring the woman’s shouts and protests. With a swing of its arm, it threw her into the corridor, and she vanished. Smith Jr. gulped and jumped into the corridor when he saw the golem reaching its arm out towards him. Although he didn’t know who she was or why she was here, it looked like he had gained a new colleague.

***

Eula descended from her carriage and walked into her favorite restaurant. To her surprise, there was a woman wearing a chef’s outfit standing in the dining room. Eula raised an eyebrow, but she decided not to place too much attention onto the chef. She was likely someone who had heard the rumors about egg fried rice and wanted to try it for herself. Like any other profession, chef’s had pride, and challenges would occasionally occur. Eula stopped in front of the vending machine. After seeing no limited-edition chips, she went to her favorite spot and took a seat. To her surprise, the chef approached her.

“What would you like to order?”

Eula’s eyes bulged. Had Smith Jr. turned into a woman!? She cleared her throat and shook her head, wondering why that was the first thing she thought of. “I haven’t seen you around before. Do you work here?”

The woman grimaced. “Are you ordering food or not? If not, you’ll be treated as a loiterer.” She pointed at the blackboard by the entrance.

“Egg fried rice and pickled radishes,” Eula said, getting straight to the point, not bothering to look at the menu. The last thing she wanted to be treated as was a loiterer. The chef turned around and went to the kitchen, causing Eula to tilt her head. Was the woman a temporary replacement? Did Smith Jr. fail to repay his loan on time? Perhaps the people he had borrowed money from took him out back and shattered his kneecaps before replacing him with someone else. Eula pursed her lips. Hopefully, the egg fried rice’s quality wouldn’t drop.

Not too long later, Smith Jr. came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food. He placed it down in front of Eula. “Your order.”

“Thanks,” Eula said. She gestured towards the woman coming towards Smith Jr. from behind. “Who’s that?”

“My apprentice, Karen,” Smith Jr. said with a blank expression. “The sect sent her to support me.”

“Peh.” The woman spat on the floor and pointed her middle finger at Smith Jr. before pointing it at Eula as well.

“She’s a pleasant person,” Eula said, not minding the gesture. Her eyes drifted around the room before landing on the blackboard. To her surprise, there were seven additional items listed! Her eyes gleamed, and her gaze focused on Karen. Smith Jr. wasn’t capable of making those dishes, so the person responsible must’ve been her.

“W-what are you staring at?” Karen asked, taking a step back. She wasn’t sure why the customer’s gaze was making her so uneasy. After all, no matter how much a customer could eat, they could only order food once a day. Karen snorted and shrugged it off, not knowing about the special privilege Eula had.