The cheap restaurant kitchen reeked of compromise and shortcuts. Rai stood at the counter, watching his boss—a man whose business ethics were as rotten as the spoiled supplies he bought—bicker with a vendor over ingredients that should never have made it past inspection.
"Sir, I don't think this is suited for—" Rai began carefully.
"Oh, that's because it's cheap,"
"What? No, but that's—"
"Yes, it might be against the law, but it's hella cheap."
It's not even processed properly. This is going to hurt someone.
"Get out of here now," the boss snapped.
Rai left without another word. He'd learned long ago that integrity and greed don't occupy the same space.
That night, Rai sat on his worn-out mattress in a cramped apartment that looked like a disaster zone. Clothes piled up in every corner, empty bottles scattered across the floor like monuments to failure and despair.
He held a cup of instant ramen in one hand and a bottle of cheap soju in the other, staring at the noodles with the kind of hollow feeling that only comes when you've hit rock bottom.
"One hundred thousand won,"
"Lost to an online scam. They said I could make money reviewing stuff. Yeah, right."
It had seemed so simple at the time. Review some products, get paid commissions. One bad review. One stale food incident that he'd reported honestly. That's all it took for everything to unravel.
Now he wasn't even a waiter anymore. He wasn't earning anything at all. His drunk father kept calling for money, demanding support he couldn't provide. While he'd been drowning in shock, every part-time job he could find had fired him.
The desperation was suffocating, pressing down on his chest like a physical weight that wouldn't let go. He lifted the ramen cup and took a sip, feeling the hot broth slide down his throat. There was nothing else to do, nowhere else to go.
"All a person like me can do is... slowly die on my own,"
He opened the instant ramen cup properly. The water was already there, the noodles already soft from sitting. He lifted his chopsticks and took a bite, expecting nothing more than the usual cheap, salty taste he'd grown used to.
Something happened.
His senses sharpened in a way he couldn't explain. The crispy outer layer of the noodle burst between his teeth, releasing a subtle saltiness that seemed to bloom across his tongue. His mouth watered as the soft noodles pulled gently at his tongue like gravity. The little meat pieces drifted through the broth like comets, and when he bit into one, the flavor was rich and deep.
Rai had worked in top restaurants before, back when his life still had promise. He'd plated expensive dishes under bright lights, watched wealthy people nod and move on without a second thought. But this? This cheap instant ramen made him feel something he hadn't felt in years, something he thought he'd lost forever.
His vision blurred. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, and he didn't even know why he was crying. When was the last time he'd tasted something that made him feel alive?
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[Host, do you want to be a chef?]
Rai froze completely, his chopsticks suspended in mid-air. A translucent blue screen hung in front of him, glowing softly. He looked around the empty room, then back at the screen.
I'm hallucinating. The soju is too strong.
[Yes or No?]
"You mean... me?"
[Correct. Host Rai Artemis. Query: Do you desire to become a chef?]
He stared at the screen for a long moment, his mind spinning. I'm already near forty. What can I even do now?
[Insufficient data. However, if you accept, we will transport you to a new world—one where cooking might be regarded as a simple, lowly job. There are no high stakes there. You can fulfill your wishes without the burden of your current life.]
"That's impossible,"
[Do you accept?]
He laughed—broken and desperate. "Sure. Yes. Whatever."
Why not? What do I have to lose?
[Affirmative. Commencing world transfer in 3... 2... 1...]
The ramen bowl slipped from his hands.
Rai's eyes opened to a white ceiling. Sunlight streamed through windows he'd never seen before, golden and warm. The room smelled like lavender and something expensive, something that reminded him he was definitely not in his old apartment anymore.
"Ugh. Where..." He pushed himself up slowly, and immediately he noticed something was different.
He stumbled toward a mirror and froze completely.
The face staring back wasn't his. It was better than his, so much better that he had to blink several times to convince himself he was actually looking at his own reflection.
Sharp jawline, clear skin without blemishes or scars, eyes that seemed to hold depth. His body was lean and muscular, the kind of physique that would make any man envious. He was topless, and his abdomen rippled with defined muscle.
What the hell is this?
The door opened without warning, and Rai jumped back in surprise.
A woman stood there—tall and beautiful, with curves that seemed perfect.
Her presence filled the room like she belonged there. She had a gentle expression on her face, as if she was used to people waking up confused in her house.
"Sir, are you...?" She trailed off, tilting her head with concern.
Rai jumped back further.
"You... who are you? What happened to—"
To my old body? To my apartment? To my old life?
Then it hit him like a wave. The system. The transfer. It wasn't a drunken hallucination.
I'm in a new world.
"You were lying on the street when I found you,"
"A whole day had passed, but no one seemed to help. Are you feeling alright now?"
Rai stared at her, trying to process everything at once.
"Do you know where your family is?" she asked, her voice soft with genuine kindness.
Rai's throat tightened. Family. His father was back there somewhere, drunk and demanding. All his failures, all his shame, all of it was still there in that other world.
"No, I..."
"I seem to have been... transmigrated."
She chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that seemed to light up the whole room.
"Don't worry. Nobody comes here. You can stay as long as you want."
She left before he could respond, and Rai was alone again with his reflection and his thoughts.
Rai stared at the space where she'd been standing. He took a shaky breath and focused inward, trying to understand what was happening.
System?
[Host is online. Cooking Ascension System and Sugar Mommy Rebate System activated.]
Two blue screens materialized in front of him, hovering in the air like they'd always existed there.
[COOKING ASCENSION SYSTEM][Recipes Unlocked: 0][Chef Level: 1][Experience: 0/100]
[SUGAR MOMMY REBATE SYSTEM][Affection Level: 0%][Rebate Multiplier: x0][Sugar Mommies Acquired: 0]
Rai read through the details carefully, his mind processing the mechanics. So I cook food, sell it to women, and earn cashback based on how much they enjoy it. The better I cook, the higher the rebate multiplier.Quite the distinction for men ,huh
He straightened his shoulders, feeling something settle into his bones. His old life was gone. His failures were behind him. This woman had shown him kindness when he had nothing.
If I'm cooking, I might as well give back to the woman who saved me.
He went downstairs to find her.
Sera was cleaning the living room, bent over with a rag in her hand. Rai couldn't help but notice the way her jeans clung to her figure, stretched tight against soft, round curves. He caught himself and looked away quickly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.
"Umm... excuse me,"
She stood up and turned to face him with a warm smile.
"Ah, you're up now? Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you. But... what's your name?"
"I'm Sera. Sera Vancrest."
"I'm Rai. Rai Artemis."
She served him food ,a simple but well-made meal that tasted infinitely better than anything he'd eaten in months. As he ate, Rai watched her move about the apartment with easy confidence and grace.
This woman is even feeding me. She saved me from the street and she's taking care of me.
"Don't you have work?" he asked between bites, trying to understand how she could afford to help a stranger so generously. "I appreciate it, but—"
"Oh, don't worry," Sera said, settling across from him at the table. "This whole apartment is mine."
Rai froze mid-chew. Wrong question to ask. She's not poor. She's successful.
"So are you also an... Awakener?"
"Yes, I am. Rather, have you decided what you're going to do?" She tilted her head,
"You can't stay here indefinitely, can you?"
Rai thought for a moment. His mind immediately went to the one thing that felt right in this strange new world.
"Do you have a small stove?"
"We do have one, but for what?"
"I'm setting up a stall,"
She led him to the kitchen and brought out a compact stove, placing it on the counter carefully. She also grabbed a tray of eggs from the refrigerator and started laying out vegetables like she was preparing ingredients for him.
"Don't worry," Rai said gently, declining the vegetables with a wave of his hand. "I've got that covered."
"If you say so. Be back by night."
Rai shouldered the stove with gratitude, and as he walked away from the apartment, a warmth filled his chest that he hadn't felt in years. For the first time in a very long time, someone cared whether I came back.
Walking through the city streets, Rai consulted with the system, asking questions about how the loaning mechanics worked.
"That loaning thing—it works, right? Like I can actually borrow ingredients and pay back later?"
[Affirmative. Host may loan food items from the System Shop and remit payment after earning through sales. Items are priced at 50% of market value.]
Rai did the mental math in his head, thinking about profit margins and costs. A kilogram of onions that should cost seventy Z here is only twenty-five Z in the system shop. I could sell them at market price and profit... but I can only access them myself.
Fine. I'll cook instead. That's what I was meant to do anyway.
He continued walking through the bustling streets until he spotted a large school with students everywhere during lunch break. The courtyard was packed with people, and nearby he noticed several food stalls already operating, selling everything from simple snacks to full meals.
This is perfect. Good foot traffic,all hungry customers, and lots of potential.
Rai set up his station in a quiet corner near the school entrance: a small chair, a simple table with a stove, a pan, and a few utensils arranged neatly. The tray of eggs sat displayed in front ,a prop for show. His real ingredients would come from the system, invisible to anyone watching.
He took a deep breath and centered himself, feeling the weight of this moment settle into his bones.
Okay. Let's start cooking.
[System Query: Select first recipe.]
The screen showed several options, and Rai selected the first one without hesitation.
[Egg Omelette - Level 1]
[Recipe Acquired: Simple Omelette][Ingredients Required: 2 Eggs, Salt, Oil]
Rai cracked the first egg into his bowl with practiced ease, the shell splitting cleanly under his fingers. The yolk and white fell into the ceramic with a soft plop, and without pausing, he grabbed the second egg and repeated the motion. Two perfect cracks, just like his hands remembered from years of cooking.
At least my hands remember something from the old world.
He heated the pan over the small stove, and within moments, the surface began to shimmer like water. He could feel the heat radiating off it, that familiar, comforting warmth that had always made him feel at home in the kitchen.
He poured in a thin layer of oil, and it spread across the surface like liquid silk, moving with the heat. The aroma that rose from it was clean and neutral—the smell of potential, of a blank canvas waiting to be painted.
Oil at the right temperature doesn't fight the eggs. It supports them, lifts them up.
The beaten eggs in his bowl had started to blend together, creating a pale yellow studded with white flecks. Not fully beaten. This will give the omelette more texture, more character.
He poured the eggs into the pan.
The moment they hit the hot surface, the edges erupted into motion. The liquid eggs at the bottom began to coagulate while those at the top remained loose and malleable.
Rai moved quickly, using the edge of his spatula to gently push the cooked portions toward the center while tilting the pan so the raw egg could flow to the edges.
It was a rhythm he hadn't performed in months, but his body remembered. Push. Tilt. Wait. Push. Tilt. Wait.
The omelette is like a conversation. You have to listen to what the eggs are telling you, respond to their needs, guide them gently toward perfection.
After about thirty seconds, the bottom was lightly golden, the edges had set, and the top was still slightly wet—still malleable. This was the moment.
Rai sprinkled a tiny pinch of salt across the surface, then folded the omelette in half with a single, decisive motion. The spatula slid underneath, and the golden semicircle flipped onto itself, encasing the softer center within its protective exterior.
He let it cook for another five seconds—just enough for the top to set slightly, then slid the omelette onto a clean plate.
It was perfect.
The omelette lay on the white ceramic like a golden jewel, its surface catching the afternoon light. Steam rose from it in delicate wisps, carrying with it an aroma that was both simple and complex—the richness of eggs, the subtle sweetness of the oil, and underneath it all, something indefinable. Something that made your mouth water before you even took a bite.
Rai stared at it for a moment, genuinely impressed with himself.
Did I really cook this?
As a chef in his old life, he'd plated countless omelettes. But this one was different. It was the kind of omelette he himself would want to eat—not something to be passed along to some distracted student, but something worthy of his attention, his care, his time.
[Ding! Egg Omelette (Lvl. 1) - Taste Quality: 78% - Estimated Satisfaction: +32%]
Rai smiled at the system message.
A voice broke through his thoughts.
"You're new here."
Rai looked up to see a boy approaching, probably around seventeen or eighteen, with the soft features of someone who spent more time eating than exercising. His eyes, however, were sharp and fixed on the omelette with clear hunger.
"Well, yes,"
"One plate," the boy said, already reaching for his wallet.
Rai felt a moment of uncertainty. Am I really doing this? But he pushed it aside and placed the omelette on a fresh plate, sliding it toward the boy.
He set the price at forty Z, minimal, barely covering his costs. The boy paid without hesitation, pulling the plate toward him like Rai might change his mind.
My first earning. It feels strange but good.
The boy lifted his chopsticks and cut into the omelette. His eyes widened. He paused mid-chew for a moment ,that frozen second when taste overwhelms you completely. Then he continued chewing, his expression shifting from surprise to something close to wonder.
He set down his chopsticks and stared at the plate.
The aroma had spread throughout the small stall, and Rai noticed another student turning their head, drawn by the smell. But the boy beside him didn't seem to notice anything around him. He was completely lost in his own experience, taking another bite, then another, consuming the omelette with careful appreciation.
"So, how is it?"
The boy looked up,"You,"
"You're a god. I'm not gonna eat from the school canteen now. Not ever again."
Rai felt something shift in his chest, that same sensation he'd experienced tasting the instant ramen, but magnified a thousandfold. This boy, this stranger, had just experienced something meaningful because of his hands, his knowledge, his care.
"Well, thank you for your review, kid," Rai said softly, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
[Ding! Customer Satisfaction Recorded]
[Ding! Cooking Ascension System - Experience +32]
Rai watched the boy leave, carrying the empty plate like a trophy.
For the first time in years, he had made someone happy through his cooking. And in this new world, surrounded by awakened women and unlimited potential, he was just getting started.