Smith Jr. exhaled. Day after day, morning after morning, he’d be dragged out of bed, tossed into the forbidden corridor—as he liked to call it—and forced to survive in the arena. The contents of the arena were the same every time. He had to survive the goblin horde, but nowadays, he was graded at the end of each run: the number of humans left alive at the end, the number of goblins he personally killed, the finesse of his techniques, there were dozens of different assessments cumulating in his final grade. Right now, he was at a D-, and the only way he could get any higher was to improve his cultivation level. However, who knew who long that would take?

Smith Jr. staggered through the dining room and opened the door, declaring the start of today’s business. As expected, Eula was there, descending from her carriage, right on time as always. What wasn’t expected was the crowd of people behind her. Smith Jr. trembled, wondering if he had actually been taken out of the forbidden corridor. What if this was actually part two of the challenge? Could he survive if everyone outside charged him at once? Smith Jr. resisted the urge to close the door. “Good morning,” he said to Eula. He gestured with his eyes towards the crowd behind her. “Do you know them?”

“You said a new dish would appear on the menu when you sold ten thousand bowls of egg fried rice,” Eula said and smiled. “They’re here to help you out.” She walked into the restaurant and took a quick look at the blackboard. She didn’t see any new menu item, but she did see something that wasn’t there the other day. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the rectangular box which was standing upright. Five of its six sides were made of a glossy metal while the sixth side was made from glass. Through the glass, she could see dozens of things resting on shelves. They seemed to be little animals printed onto bags, and they were trapped in circular contraptions.

“What the fu—?” Smith Jr. rubbed his eyes. When did that thing appear? He muttered under his breath, “System, what is that?”

[That is a vending machine. You can purchase any item inside by inserting a spirit stone. The directions are on the front. I recommend the potato chips.]

Smith Jr. walked up to the vending machine and examined its contents. The system recommended the potato chips…. He read through the various bags. Out of the twenty item slots, eighteen of them contained potato chips, and the last two had a bag of dried squid in one slot and a bag of seaweed snacks in the other. Smith Jr. reached into his pocket and … pulled nothing out. As a man who was indebted for multiple lifetimes, how was it possible for him to have any money? It wasn’t. He turned his head. “This is a vending machine,” he said to Eula, gesturing towards the snack container. “You can purchase snacks from it while you wait for your order.”

Eula’s eyes lit up. Snacks? She went up to the vending machine, and before Smith Jr. could leave, she ordered a bowl of egg fried rice and a plate of pickled radishes. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to let the horde of people cut ahead of her while she was distracted. After she made her order, she browsed through the multiple colorful bags. “Classic potato chip flavor. Potato chips: ice cream flavor. Potato chips: dried squid flavor. Potato chips: seaweed flavor. Potato chips: grape jam flavor.” Eula’s brow furrowed as she read through them all. She recognized most of the flavors, but there was one really confusing one that she didn’t understand. “Potato chips: space flavor…. Limited time only?”

What the hell was space in the context of food? Eula didn’t know. The picture of the potato chips on the cover looked like burnt potato chips. They were completely black, but there were some tiny tinges of dark purple. Eula was slightly concerned, but she reached into her purse anyway. When she was little, she had a bad habit of eavesdropping on people, and she had once overheard a conversation her uncle had with the minister of finance. If something was limited in supply, but high in demand, the price of that good would increase. Right now, the space-flavored chips cost the same as every other chip. Without hesitation, Eula put a spirit stone into the vending machine and pressed the buttons corresponding to the space-flavored chips. The machine whirred, and the chips dropped to the bottom. Eula narrowed her eyes and stuck another spirit stone inside the machine. If these chips were only available for a limited amount of time, the obvious conclusion would be to buy every single chip! She didn’t know what it even tasted like, but if it came from Boss Smith’s store, then it was guaranteed to be good.

Smith Jr. stared at Eula through the one-way glass which made up the kitchen’s walls. The princess was pouring an unending number of spirit stones into the vending machine. No wonder why the girl had always looked at him with an aggrieved expression when he told her she could only order one serving of rice a day. She was a glutton! She was a huge, huge glutton. Never had he seen anyone order so much food for one sitting. Smith Jr. exhaled. Well, it was good that she was a glutton. The easiest way into her heart would be through her stomach, and he’d do just that. Once he delivered the bowl of egg fried rice, he’d have a nice conversation with her about the vending machine, and through that conversation, the two of them would get much closer than before. A smile appeared on Smith Jr.’s lips as he readied the egg fried rice and pickled radishes, placing them onto a tray. He walked outside and placed it down where Eula usually sat. “Your order is ready.”

“Thank you,” Eula said, not turning away from the vending machine. “Just leave it there.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Smith Jr. scratched his head. Perhaps he should’ve waited for her to be done first. He glanced towards the entrance of the restaurant and froze. The crowd of people were still standing outside in the same position he had seen them in before. None of them had entered after Eula, and he had almost forgotten about them since he was too distracted by the princess’ figure. Smith Jr. took in a deep breath. There was no need to be afraid, not with Tutor Golem 3000 there to protect him. He walked to the entrance and looked around. “Hello?”

One person in the crowd shambled forward like a zombie. “Egg fried rice.”

“You want a bowl of egg fried rice?” Smith Jr. asked. “You have to pay before I accept your order. The rules are on the blackboard.”

The man stumbled forward. “Egg fried rice,” he said and held out a spirit stone.

Smith Jr. took the stone and put it in his pocket, where it promptly disappeared as spirit stones usually did. “One egg fried rice coming right up.”

“Egg fried rice,” the man said again and walked forward. Half of his body smashed into the door on his way into the restaurant. With that, the rest of the crowd ran forward, all of them mumbling egg fried rice while holding out spirit stones. They swarmed towards Smith Jr., and he had no choice but to retreat as fast as he could. They chased after him, and even after he shut the kitchen door on them, they continued to claw at the walls, scraping at the wallpaper with the spirit stones in their hands. Usually, Smith Jr. appreciated the fact he could see the dining room from the kitchen; however, right now, he was downright terrified. What the hell was going on? A man was salivating and smashing his hand into the wall over and over while screaming egg fried rice. Another woman was dragging people away, throwing them to the ground to get at the kitchen door. Smith Jr. had never seen anything like it. It was like a group of starving refugees had seen a boar, him, and were chasing after it to eat it.

[Young chef, it’s rude to ignore your customers. Go out there and accept their money! What are you doing?]

Smith Jr. shook his head. “I’m not going out there.”

“You’re going out there.” A cold, metallic hand grabbed Smith Jr.’s shoulder. A faceless golem grinned at him despite not having any lips. With a scream, Smith Jr. was thrown out of the kitchen and into the horde of hypnotized people. It took him an hour to get out. All the while, Eula ignored the chef’s screams for help, pouring her money into the vending machine that seemed to hold an infinite amount of space-flavored chips.

***

Karta stared at Vremya’s screen. “I think there’s something wrong with your users.”

Vremya shook his head. “This is pretty normal for them.”

“That’s the problem,” Karta said and rolled her eyes.