It was already evening by the time Vincent got home. The moment he stepped into his apartment, he froze at the sight. The kitchen looked like a battlefield—chopping boards stacked in crooked towers, bowls smeared with half-mixed sauces, utensils scattered like fallen soldiers. All leftovers from the "culinary drill" the system had forced on him earlier.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "...Looks like a tornado passed through here."
Grabbing a rag, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Plates clinked, water splashed, and bit by bit the kitchen regained its shine. By the time he leaned back against the sink, chest rising with steady breaths, the counters gleamed.
Then his stomach growled.
Vincent blinked at the sound, then laughed under his breath. "Right. Guess torture drills don't feed you."
That was when he remembered. The inventory. The two shining rewards he had stashed away before: the recipes he'd been dying to try.
His eyes lit up. "Oh, right. You beauties. I almost forgot about you."
With a flick of thought, he summoned them. The air shimmered, and two covered dishes materialized onto the counter, steam curling from beneath the lids.
Vincent rubbed his hands together. "Safe and sound. Thank God I didn't let these sit out in the war zone earlier. Time for a taste test."
He pulled the lid off the first dish—Vitality Noodles.
A fragrant wave hit him instantly. The broth shimmered golden, laced with a delicate sheen of oil that clung like liquid sunlight. Fine noodles floated within, strands supple and springy, accompanied by slices of tender beef, soft-boiled egg halves, and herbs that glowed faintly with a freshness no grocery store could fake.
Vincent's mouth watered. "...This looks like a five-star chef's fever dream. Hard to believe I pulled this off while half dead from the drill."
He scooped up a bite. The noodles were silky but carried a subtle chew, each strand infused with rich umami. The broth was deep—savory with a hint of sweetness that warmed his chest. Every sip seemed to soak into his bones, coaxing out a comfort that words couldn't quite describe.
By the third mouthful, something shifted.
His fingers twitched. His eyes darted toward the window, catching a bird's wings mid-flap with uncanny clarity. He rose to his feet, and for a moment, it felt like gravity had loosened its grip—his steps lighter, smoother, as if his body was tuned to a sharper rhythm.
Vincent blinked, flexed his hand, then snapped his fingers. The motion was faster. Cleaner. His body felt… efficient.
He whistled low. "Well, hello there, stamina boost. Guess this isn't just fancy ramen."
"System," he said, stabbing his chopsticks in the air. "Gimme the breakdown. What exactly am I eating here?"
The glowing panel flared.
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Menu Name (customer-facing): House Special Herbal Noodles
System Description:
[Recipe: Vitality Noodles (High-Tier)]A balanced bowl infused with rare herbs and essence-rich stock.
Effects:– Accelerates recovery from major wounds (fractures, deep cuts, internal strain) within minutes.– Boosts stamina and agility by 15% for six hours. (faster reflexes, lighter step).– Long-term consumption strengthens immune system and subtly enhances natural healing.
Note: Ordinary humans (Non-Nephic diners) will only experience 20% of the listed effects. For them, this translates as quicker recovery from fatigue, pain relief, and stronger long-term resistance to illness.
Nephic diners will experience full effectiveness.
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Vincent's ached a brow mid slurp. "Wait—major wounds? Like… stab wounds, cracked ribs, torn muscles? In a bowl of noodles?"
[Affirmative. High-Tier Recipe potency is capable of restoring severe physical damage within minutes.]
Vincent blinked, then barked out a laugh. "So basically, my regulars get a healthy-living bonus pack, while people like me get the full miracle cure?"
[Accurate.]
"Figures." He shook his head, already imagining it. "A salaryman eats here every week, suddenly wonders why his colds vanish faster. A street brawler stumbles in, eats a bowl, and walks out with his broken arm mending..."
Vincent paused, just realizing."Wait—so there are other people with systems out there?"
[Negative. This System is unique to you. However, scattered across the world are individuals who possess innate supernatural abilities—strength, speed, perception, resilience, and more. They are called Nephics. Unlike you, their powers are natural evolutions, not guided by structured progression. The world remains unaware of their existence, but they walk among ordinary humans. Compared to them, you are… different. A system bearer.]
"Perfect. As if me cooking my way through system drills wasn't strange enough—now you're telling me I've got magical neighbors?"
[Correction: They are not neighbors. Their existence is carefully concealed. The majority of humanity is unaware of their presence.]
"Yeah, that makes me feel so much better. Secret powered people running around, blending in with the rest of us. What are they, superheroes in disguise? Cloaks, masks, the whole package?"
[Inaccurate comparison. Their abilities do not always correlate with heroism. Many hide because their powers could disrupt social balance—or place them in danger if exposed.]
"…So basically, I'm living in a comic book. Hidden superhumans — well nephics, secret systems. Next thing you'll tell me is aliens own a ramen shop downtown."
[Probability of extraterrestrial cuisine existing: nonzero. However, irrelevant. Focus is required. Your current status places you within the same category of 'nephic individuals.']
"…Nephic individuals? That's what you're calling me now? I thought I was just your overworked kitchen experiment."
[You are more. The system designates you as the one chosen to awaken latent potential. Unlike others, your growth follows structured progression with defined rewards.]
"…So they get raw powers, and I get homework. Great."
[Clarification: They struggle without guidance. You receive structured support. Efficiency ratio favors you.]
"…Right. Efficiency. Because nothing screams efficient like a man cooking soufflés at two in the morning to keep up with his magical training regimen."
[Sarcasm detected. Irrelevant. Returning to objective: Continue development. Encounters with altered individuals are inevitable.]
He rolled his eyes, set aside the empty bowl, and reached for the second dish. The lid was still warm under his fingertips as he lifted it—Iron-Fire Dumplings.
A spicy aroma burst free, sharp and smoky, with just enough heat to sting the back of his throat. The dumplings gleamed golden-brown, their skins crisp at the edges, steam wafting through the folds. Inside, minced pork mixed with herbs and a faint ember-red sauce that shimmered when the light hit it.
He popped one into his mouth. The wrapper cracked beneath his teeth, unleashing a rush of savory juices that carried a peppery bite. The heat wasn't overwhelming—it built slowly, like embers glowing brighter with each chew, until his whole chest seemed to radiate warmth.
Then it hit him.
His muscles thrummed. Fingers curled into fists, and suddenly the strength in his arms felt doubled. He stood, testing his weight, and nearly startled himself when his hand sank too deep into the wooden counter with a careless press.
"Damn—!" Vincent yanked his hand back, staring at the shallow dent in the wood. "Okay. Okay. That's some serious power in a dumpling."
The system chimed again, crisp as ever:
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Menu Name (customer-facing): Chef's Crispy Dumplings
System Description:
[Recipe: Iron-Fire Dumplings (Mid-Tier)]Meat-filled dumplings imbued with strengthening spice energy.
Effects:
– Grants temporary strength boost (+10%) and resistance to fatigue for several hours.– Regular intake gradually toughens the body's constitution.
Note: Ordinary humans will only experience about 20% of these effects. To them, it functions as a powerful 'second wind' meal—granting renewed energy and subtle resilience that builds with regular dining. For casual eaters, it's just an invigorating boost. For fighters or laborers, however, it's a secret weapon.
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Vincent let out a low laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "So noodles make me lighter, dumplings make me stronger. At this rate, I'll open a restaurant and customers will think I'm serving steroids in soy sauce."
But the grin on his face was impossible to hide.
He set down his chopsticks, leaning back in his chair.
"Two miracle recipes in one day." He exhaled. "System, I don't say this often, but… good job."
[Acknowledged.]
Vincent chuckled. "Still smug, huh?
[Smugness is a human trait. I am simply efficient.]
Vincent snorted. "Efficient, my ass. You nearly drained my SEU earlier."
[Progress requires investment.]
"Yeah, yeah," he said, stretching with a satisfied sigh. "Just don't start charging me for breathing next."
[No guarantees.]
Vincent froze mid-stretch. "…You're joking, right?"
[Processing humor module… Error: none detected.]
He groaned. "Great. My system's a comedian now."
He pushed his chair back, still chuckling, when the panel blinked again — once, twice — before a new notification flashed across it.
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New Task Unlocked:
Field Application — Serve a Nephic.
Time limit: 14 days
Reward: Combat Instinct skill unlock
Penalty: Pain Amplification Protocol — Physical pain sensitivity doubled for 48 hours.
————————————
Vincent froze.
"…Serve a what now?"
The panel pulsed once more.
[Objective begins tomorrow.]
He blinked at the glowing words, then slumped forward on the table.
"Yeah," he muttered, half laughing, half horrified. "Definitely charging me for breathing next."