NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 6: Dinner Preperation
The marketplace slowly grew quieter as I caught my breath. The noise and shouts from vendors, along with the clattering of coins, faded into a distant hum. My chest heaved with the thrill of what had just happened; the taste of victory, however small, was sweet on my tongue. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, feeling the sting of my raw palms where the handle of my sword had left its mark. The system's reward window blinked into view, shimmering faintly in the corner of my vision like a mirage in the desert. My heart raced as I focused on the display, eager to see what my efforts had earned me.
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[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Park Adan
Level: 1
Class: Player
Title: Regressor
Exp: 220/300
HP: 70/100
MP: 0/50
Fatigue: 80/100
[STATS]
Strength: 9
Agility: 5(+1)
Stamina: 4
Intelligence: 13
Perception: 11
Endurance: 7
Luck: 5
[SKILLS]
None
[INVENTORY]
{Locked right now; will be available after reaching Level 10.}
[QUESTS]
[No quests available]
---
My lips curled into a grin as I scanned the update. The jump in agility was noticeable—my movements felt sharper, more precise, even as I stood catching my breath among the last few bustling stalls. "Not bad," I murmured, the satisfaction bubbling into quiet laughter. "Not bad at all."
My calves still throbbed faintly, a not-so-gentle reminder of the cost. The cobblestones beneath my feet seemed to pulse with the same rhythm as my pounding heart. It seems even if I gain stats points in the future, I couldn't just use them recklessly. The thought of feeling pain after using too many points gave me goosebumps.
"I can't just dump points into stats like a video game," I muttered, the words bitter and heavy, my voice echoing slightly in the now almost empty market square where only a few lamps flickered, casting long shadows over the ground. "If I push too far, it'll tear me apart."
When the pain finally ebbed into a dull ache, I exhaled in relief, my face still contorted in a mix of agony and awkward triumph. I clenched my fists, shaking slightly, only to realize with dawning horror that I was crouched in a twisted, half-frozen squat with one leg stretched unnaturally behind me and my arms stiffly raised like a scarecrow. My lips twitched as I fought the urge to grimace at my ridiculous stance, surrounded by the remnants of the day's market - empty crates, scattered leaves, and the lingering smell of spices.
"What... what is he doing?" I heard a hushed voice from somewhere behind me. A group of curious onlookers whispered among themselves on the now quiet street, their eyes wide with bemused fascination. A child giggled, pointing, while a vendor tried and failed to suppress a chuckle, his laugh echoing off the nearby buildings.
Heat flooded my face as the absurdity of my position hit me. "Oh, great," I muttered under my breath, the embarrassment stinging more than the physical pain.
Forcing my limbs to move despite the lingering discomfort, I quickly straightened up, wobbling slightly as I did so. With a sheepish glance around and a faint, awkward wave, I muttered, "Nothing to see here," before bolting toward the nearest alleyway, the whispers and laughter trailing behind me like an echo of my own embarrassment, the alley's shadows offering quick refuge.
"This might actually work," I murmured to myself, wonder and disbelief mixing in equal measure as I jogged through the narrow, shadowed streets.
As I jogged towards home, I had thought in my mind "If I keep completing quests... like this then..." My thoughts trailed off, a grin forming despite my exhaustion. This wasn't just about surviving Jason Hwan and to escape from him. It was not just about him, he can change his future into something else which didn't imagine earlier, under the dim city lights that flickered overhead.
A flicker of determination ignited within me.
I clenched my fists, feeling renewed purpose flood through my veins. "One step at a time," I whispered, resolving to master the system that had been thrust upon me. No more waiting for things to change—I'd make my own destiny.
(A/N: Bro... really is feeling the so-called protagonist moment, isn't he? but i think he forget something.)
Suddenly, the system chimed again, the familiar blue glow appearing with a soft ding that cut through the evening quiet. My heart leaped in anticipation, vision of agility upgrade flashing through my mind. But instead of a any quest or anything, the words far more mundane scrolled before my eyes:
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[Urgent Reminder:]
• Task: Make dinner tonight.
• Time limit: 2 hours.
• Reward: Avoid Mom's Wrath (no stat points).
• Failure: Severe disappointment and hunger.
---
The rush of excitement evaporated like steam from a kettle. "Oh no..." I whispered, my eyes widening as a wave of dread washed over me. "Dinner. Mom's gonna kill me!"
I cursed under my breath, glaring at the glowing message as if sheer willpower could erase it. "Why didn't you remind me earlier?" I hissed at the system, I blamed system for not reminding me, but my words met with nothing but silence. Muttering a stream of half-hearted curses, I spun on my heel and dashed toward home despite the pain and exhaustion I was feeling, my future plans temporarily replaced by a far more perilous mission—surviving Mom's disappointment, the evening air cool against my heated cheeks.
By the time I reached the door to our flat, the panic had settled into a frantic energy that buzzed under my skin. I fumbled with my keys, muttering to myself about how I should have checked the system earlier, the hallway dimly lit by a single flickering bulb. Once inside, I made a beeline for the kitchen, throwing open the fridge with the fervor of a man searching for treasure, the light from the fridge casting a glow on the worn linoleum.
"Please, let there be something—anything!" I prayed. My heart sank as the cool air hit my face, revealing a nearly empty fridge. A lonely carton of milk, a wrinkled apple, and a container of questionable leftovers stared back at me like mocking witnesses to my plight.
The pantry wasn't much better. A few cans of beans, a half-empty bag of rice, and a lone packet of instant noodles were all I had to work with. I groaned, closing the cabinet with more force than necessary, the clatter echoing in the small kitchen, where the paint was peeling at the corners.
"Great. Just great," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How am I supposed to make dinner with this?" My mind raced, trying to come up with a solution. Then, like a bolt of lightning, inspiration struck. Grocery shopping. It was the only way.
I grabbed my wallet and dashed out the door, barely taking a moment to lock up behind me. The small corner store down the street was my destination, its neon sign flickering in the evening light like a beacon. I jogged there, weaving through the light crowd with practiced ease, the sounds of the city evening wrapping around me, the hum of distant traffic and the occasional bark of a dog. By the time I arrived, I was slightly out of breath but determined.
The store's familiar hum of fluorescent lights and faintly cheesy pop music greeted me as I stepped inside. I grabbed a basket and began darting down the aisles, my eyes scanning the shelves for anything that could pass as a decent meal, the smell of fresh bread from the bakery section mingling with the sharp scent of cleaning products.
"Okay, keep it simple," I murmured to myself, grabbing a pack of chicken breasts, a bag of vegetables, and a box of pasta. "Something easy, something quick." I hesitated in front of the spice rack, debating whether I could pull off anything remotely flavorful. With a sigh, I tossed in a bottle of pre-made sauce, hoping it would mask any culinary sins.
The cashier gave me a knowing look as she rang up my items, her eyebrow quirking as if to say, "Last-minute dinner, huh?" I offered her a sheepish smile, mumbling something about a busy day as I handed over the money, the transaction completed under the buzz of the store's overhead lights.
With my groceries in hand, I hurried back home, my mind already racing through the steps of preparation. The clock was ticking, and I was determined not to fail, the streetlights now casting a warm glow on the pavement.
Back in the kitchen, I set everything out on the counter and took a deep breath, the kitchen's fluorescent light casting a stark glow over my makeshift cooking station. "All right, Adan," I muttered, rolling up my sleeves. "Let's do this." I started by boiling water for the pasta, chopping the vegetables with what I hoped was precision but was likely closer to frantic hacking, the rhythmic chop-chop sound filling the small space. The chicken sizzled in the pan, the aroma filling the kitchen and giving me a small boost of confidence, the scent of garlic and herbs mingling in the air.
But confidence was short-lived. By the time I plated everything, the sight was less than appetizing, and the taste... well, it was even worse. One bite was all it took for me to grimace in defeat.
The chicken was undercooked, the vegetables were somehow both soggy and burnt, and the pasta was an over-salted mess. I stared at the disaster in front of me, my shoulders slumping, the kitchen now smelling of burnt food rather than a feast.
Just as I was about to resign myself to failure, the system chimed again, the sound like a lifeline in my moment of culinary despair.
---
[System Alert:]
• Cooking Failure Detected.
•To Help host activating Guided Cooking Mode.
---
"Guided cooking mode?" I repeated aloud, a mix of hope and skepticism in my voice. A new window popped up, displaying a step-by-step guide with clear instructions, diagrams, and even animations showing the proper techniques for each step. The system outlined everything in painstaking detail, from dicing vegetables into uniform pieces to properly seasoning the chicken for even flavor distribution, the animations moving smoothly over the screen.
"Okay," I said, nodding slowly as I scanned the guide.
"Step one: prepare the ingredients properly. Seems easy enough."
The interface highlighted my mistakes, pointing out the uneven cuts on the vegetables and the improperly seasoned chicken. A timer began ticking in the corner of the window, adding a layer of urgency to the task, the kitchen clock ticking in sync.
I took a deep breath and grabbed the knife again, this time following the animated diagram to chop the vegetables into neat, even pieces. "So that's how you do it," I murmured, feeling a small thrill of accomplishment as my cutting improved, the sound of the knife on the cutting board now rhythmic and confident. Next, I coated the chicken with a precise blend of salt, pepper, and a pinch of garlic powder as suggested, the spices dancing in the light. The system even offered helpful reminders like, "Don't overcrowd the pan," which had apparently been my earlier mistake.
The guided instructions turned cooking into a surprisingly engaging challenge. The step-by-step approach helped me maintain focus, and the real-time feedback corrected any errors before they could spiral into another culinary disaster. By the time I plated the meal again, it looked significantly better. The chicken was golden-brown, the vegetables vibrant and tender, and the rice steamed to fluffy perfection, the kitchen now filled with the aroma of a successful meal.
I hesitated before taking a bite, the memory of the earlier failure fresh in my mind. Slowly, I lifted the fork to my mouth and tasted the meal. To my surprise, it was... good. Really good. The flavors were balanced, the textures just right. A sense of pride swelled in my chest as I looked down at the plate, the kitchen now a place of triumph rather than defeat.
"Well, Adan," I said with a grin, "you might just survive Mom's wrath after all." After being satisfied with my cooking, I started setting the table and finished my task.
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[Notice]
• Quest completed successfully.
• No Reward is Granted.
---
I saw the message and released a heavy sigh, but then I looked at myself, I was looking terrible with all the adventure I did I was in pretty bad condition and if mom sees this, "well..., let's take a bath first".