My Food Stall Sells SSS-Grade Delicacies!

The morning sun rose sleepily over the horizon, bathing the meadow in soft golden light. Marron stirred from her bed of hay, groggily rubbing her eyes.

DING.

[System Notification]

Dreambutter Unlocked!

Supply Available at Whetvale General Market

(Price: 100 Coins)

That woke Marron fast.

"One hundred gold for butter?"

Mokko yawned, stretching beside her and shaking hay from his fur. "Dreambutter comes from wish cattle. It's rare. And finding a chef who can use it right? Rarer. Trust me—the price is a compliment."

"Some compliment," she muttered. "Well, we just gotta earn it one coin at a time. Let's lock the cart and buy some supplies."

Though the food cart itself couldn't travel far yet, Marron and Mokko could.

"I'm glad you're not bound to that thing," she said as they walked. "Would be tough to wander Whetvale by myself."

"I've got no leash and no combat skills," Mokko grunted. "Just a bear who knows his way around a spice rack."

"Well... you have big paws. That's something."

Deep inside, Marron didn't feel like that was true. 

Mokko knows a lot about this world and rare ingredients. I'm sure he used to help the last chef. Maybe someday he'll be my second-in-command.

From inside one of the drawers, a small yawn squeaked. Lucy, the blue slime, blinked up at her sleepily, curled atop a soup ladle.

"Good morning, Lucy. Wanna come to the market?"

Lucy burbled cheerfully and flopped into an empty spice pouch at Marron's side.

"That's convenient," Marron smiled. "Let's go."

+

Marron stepped inside Whetvale for the first time with Lucy bouncing lightly at her hip. Next to her, Mokko walked like an overqualified bodyguard. 

What she saw was a town in love with life.

There were colorful stalls overflowing with enchanted utensils, gem-shaped fruit, and candies made with stardust. Children tossed glitter-filled balloons in the air, shrieking as it popped.

Eagerly, they ran beneath the shower and stuck their tongues out. Marron smelled watermelon and ginger as she walked by.

Edible glitter in balloons. That's crazy delicious! Who knows what else we'll find here...

A parade of themed merchant carts rolled past. Each one sparkled: a crepe cart puffing rose-scented steam, a floating omelet bar where eggs flipped themselves, a mobile milk-tea lab run by a team of rabbits in aprons.

Marron caught sight of her own stall in the distance—wood worn, paint peeling, no sign above it yet.

Her heart sank a little.

+

"This is Whetvale," Mokko said, adjusting his glasses. "Land of culinary show-offs. Food is power. Presentation? Everything."

"So I've noticed," she muttered. Nearly everything was beautiful and edible. "And the prices! Why is everything so expensive..."

Mokko chuckled. "People here don't like it if something's too cheap. Makes them feel like you're throwing the ingredients away anyway."

"Ah. Definitely makes sense." Her food cart looked like a charity case, but her dishes definitely weren't. 

One day. I'll decorate Comfort & Crunch even better than those merchant carts!

+

Suddenly, the crowd parted.

People gathered around a sleek diner with glowing neon signage: RIZZLET'S READY-TO-GO!

Inside was a young man with slicked-back black hair and a golden-trimmed coat. He worked the counter, practically glowing with smug confidence.

He spotted Marron and waved.

"Hey, newbie! You the one with the rusty cart near the east field?"

She raised a brow. "Yeah?"

He strolled over, holding out a steaming paper cone. Inside: a crackling croquette, glistening with savory glaze.

"Name's Balen Rizzlet," he said. "I'm also in the Tiny Cup. Try this—on the house."

She hesitated, then took a bite.

The shell shattered in her mouth. Inside—smoky meat, spiced rice, and a tangy burst of jelly. Her eyes widened.

"It's delicious," she admitted.

Balen smirked. "Of course it is. My food travels easy and sells itself. Fair warning: around here, gimmicks won't beat skill. It's gotta be pretty and taste even better."

Her fists clenched. "We'll see about that."

+

Before they left Whetvale, Mokko took them to the Culinary Merchants Guild.

The building loomed over the marketplace like a frosted cake. There were white stones trimmed with filigree and columns carved with whisks and ladles.

Its grand double doors opened into a bustling lobby filled with voices, parchment, and the smell of parchment, spice, and warm tea.

Dozens of food vendors waited in line to register carts, report trade routes, or renew their cooking licenses. Some wore chef coats dusted with flour. Others balanced stacks of enchanted cookware or argued with enchanted clipboards.

When Mokko walked through the front doors, conversations paused.

Whispers rustled through the hall.

"Is that… a guardian bear?""Thought they went extinct!""What's a chef doing with one?"

The crowd parted with cautious respect, forming a neat walkway straight to the front desk.

Marron tried not to squirm.

"I'm not... breaking any laws, am I?" she whispered.

"You're fine," Mokko said gruffly. "But you don't have a license. So until we get that cart registered, someone might flag it as a rogue inventory crate."

"Like... smuggler-grade?"

"Or worse. Spoiled loot."

She paled.

At the reception desk, a goblin woman with a quill longer than her arm peered up at them through a monocle.

"New vendor?" she chirped. "Cart classification? Solo or team?"

"Solo cart," Mokko said, nudging Marron forward. "Chef's name is Marron Louvel. Her stall's Comfort & Crunch."

The receptionist scribbled something with dizzying speed, then looked up again.

"Cart guardian registered?"

Mokko cleared his throat. "That's me."

The monocle sparkled. "...Unusual, but not unprecedented. We'll flag it as a Rare Culinary Bond. Congratulations."

Marron blinked. "Wait—what does that mean?"

"It means," the goblin said with a grin, "you've got a lot of paperwork and exactly one free license perk. Pick wisely, Chef."

+

Marron stared at the parchment in front of her.

[Food Cart Registration – Culinary Guild of Whetvale]

Chef Name: Marron Louvel

Stall Name: Comfort & Crunch

Guardian Type: [Registered]

Rare Culinary Bond Detected

Eligible Bonus Perk: Choose One

[✓] Flavor Tracking – View top food trends in your region

[✓] Ingredient Storage Boost – +1 Pantry Slot unlocked

[✓] Guild Courier Access – Fast delivery of ingredients and letters

[✓] Starter Permit – One-time tax waiver on first 100 gold earned

Marron rubbed her chin. "Ugh, they all sound useful."

"If I were you," the receptionist said, tapping the quill against her ledger, "I'd take the storage slot. Most carts don't have half your potential—especially not with a guardian like him." She nodded toward Mokko.

Marron glanced back at the bear, who was currently flipping through a glossy catalog titled Seasonal Syrups of the North.

"You said guardians like him were rare?" she asked.

The goblin nodded, smile fond.

"Very. Most food cart guardians are tiny nowadays. Flame sprites, pocket dragons, enchanted mice. They're cheap to train and easy to hide when cooking for the street crowd."

She leaned in.

"But the old ones?" Her voice dropped reverently. "They were like Mokko. Full-sized, combat-trained, and soul-bound to legacy chefs. Some say the best ones could taste the weather in the air and tell you what dish would sell best."

Marron blinked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Mokko's one of the last of that kind. I thought they were all gone." The receptionist's eyes softened as she signed the parchment. "Treat him well, Chef Louvel. Guardians like him only bond when they believe in something."

That made Marron's chest warm unexpectedly.

She checked a box for the storage perk, and the form shimmered with a golden light before sealing itself with magic ink.

[Registration Complete! Comfort & Crunch is now a Licensed Culinary Vendor.]

[Storage +1 Unlocked]

[Local Food Registry: Whetvale]

[Your stall can now receive ingredient deliveries and enter regional events.]

"Thank you," Marron said, bowing slightly.

The receptionist winked. "Welcome to the guild."

From across the room, tucked near a stack of spice crates, someone watched.

A chef in a mint-green cloak leaned against the wall, absently twirling a cinnamon stick between his fingers. He wore red studs in his ears and had three rows of glittering pins on his coat—at least one from a national culinary tournament.

But right now, his eyes were on Marron and Mokko.

A chef with a real guardian, huh? Not something you see in these towns anymore. Lady doesn't look like much, but...she's good enough to get one of the big ones! 

He tapped the cinnamon stick twice against his chin, then slid it into his apron.

"Guess I'll be sticking around Whetvale a little longer."