Marron ca to coughing. It was the choking kind that ca from breathing sothing that wasn’t air. Instead, her lungs were filled with the sll of sunbaked wood and wild herbs.
Her cheek was pressed against uneven floorboards that slled like sawdust and old cooking oil.
Golden morning light filtered through a cracked window sowhere above her. Dust particles swirled in the air, and sowhere nearby, a chanical fan rattled to life with a low, wheezing buzz.
What the hell happened to ?
She groaned and sat up, imdiately regretting it when the world spun sideways.
Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and there was sothing sticky behind her ear that she really hoped was just sweat.
As her vision cleared, she realized she was inside so kind of cramped space. Definitely not her apartnt. The walls were made of weathered wood and cabinets that hung crooked from years of warping in bad weather.
A food cart?
Or the ghost of one, anyway. The wood was sun-bleached and cracked. Empty spice jars hung from strings like forgotten wind chis.
A faded label on one of the drawers read "INVENTORY" in ssy brushstrokes that had been there so long they’d beco part of the wood grain.
She hauled herself to her feet, swaying slightly, and peered through what she assud was the service window.
Oh.
Beyond the cart: a wide adow that stretched to rolling hills covered in trees she didn’t recognize.
The grass was a perfect spring green and wildflowers dotted the landscape like soone had scattered confetti. The breeze carried scents of sage, warm earth, and creamsicles.
In the distance, past the tall grass, she could just make out rooftops peeking above a thin treeline. Civilization, but not the kind she was used to. These buildings had steep, peaked roofs and chimney smoke that curled up into a sky that was impossibly blue.
"Okay," she muttered, gripping the window fra for support. "Not hell. Not exactly heaven either."
Her throat was desert-dry, and she was starting to get that shaky feeling that ant she needed water or she was going to pass out again.
She spotted a small lake nearby surrounded by flat stones and early wildflowers. It looked like sothing from a fairy tale.
Please don’t be a mirage. Please be actual water.
The walk across the adow felt surreal. The grass was soft under her feet, and everything slled so...clean.
Not a trace of the smog she was used to, living in a big city.
Birds were singing, instead of the hum of traffic she’d grown used to.
The water was crystal clear when she reached it, so transparent she could see smooth stones on the bottom. She knelt on one of the flat rocks at the edge and cupped the water in her hands, slurping it up.
It was... shockingly, ice-cold and delicious.
Her thoughts cleared, and the shaky feeling subsided.
Okay. Think. What’s the last thing you rember?
The sandwich. The card. Filling out the form with probably the stupidest request in history. The clock stopping. Everything going dark.
And now I’m... where exactly?
She leaned over the water’s surface to splash so water on her face – and froze.
The reflection staring back at her wasn’t entirely her own.
What the...
She was younger.
The stress lines around her eyes were gone, her skin had that dewy freshness she hadn’t seen since college, and there was a softness to her features that she’d forgotten she’d ever had.
But more than that, her face had actually changed.
Her eyes were a soft pink now – not the tired brown she’d inherited from her dad, but pink like spun sugar or rose quartz.
Her hair, instead of the limp ss she’d been pulling back in a bun every day for four years, was now a cascade of dark curls that frad her face.
She touched her cheek. The reflection touched back.
She moved her head left, then right. The reflection followed.
"...Huh."
Strangely, she wasn’t upset. If anything, she looked... cute. Like soone had taken her basic features and given them a fantasy ani makeover.
The pink eyes should have been weird, but they sohow worked with her pale face and new curly hair.
She smiled wryly at her reflection. "I did fill out that card like an idiot. ’Age: 18.’ Of course they took it literally."
They. Who was ’they’? And where was ’here’?
She brushed water off her cheeks and took one more long look at herself. The face in the water smiled back – uncertain, but not entirely unhappy.
Okay, Marron. You wanted a fresh start. Apparently, you got one.
She stood and headed back toward the food cart, this ti paying more attention to her surroundings. The adow stretched in all directions, but it wasn’t wild – there were subtle signs that people had been here.
A worn path through the grass leading toward those distant rooftops. Posts that might once have held signs. The remains of what looked like other stalls or carts scattered around the adow, long since abandoned. One of the remaining stalls had the sign ’adowbrook Commons Pizza’ on it, which lasted for all of 5 seconds.
And then the sign fell down into the grass.
"Huh. That’s...kind of ominous. adowbrook Commons..."
Was this so kind of traveling market that moved on?
The cart looked even more pathetic as she approached it. The canvas awning sagged on one side, one wheel was cracked, and the whole thing had the air of sothing that had been forgotten after a county fair.
"Okay, this is not what I ant when I wrote ’Food Stall Owner,’" she muttered.
As if the cart had heard her and taken offense, it rattled.
Not from wind.
With a soft click and a shimring twist of light that made her eyes water, the side panels of the cart rotated outward. It revealed polished prep counters that definitely hadn’t been there before.
A display window cleared itself of gri with a sound like squeaking glass, and a small chimney unfurled from the back of the cart as a simple cookfire shimred into existence beneath a proper stove.
A glossy wooden sign snapped into place above the awning, the letters appearing as if burned into the wood by invisible hands:
COMFORT & CRUNCH
Est. Today
"...That’s more like it," Marron said faintly.
Then, because her day apparently wasn’t weird enough, words began appearing in the air in front of her – glowing text that looked like sothing from a video ga interface:
[COOKING SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
Welco, Marron Louvel!
Class: Chef – Level 1
Grade Access: G to E-rank recipes
Innate Skill Detected: Culinary Magic – Passive Boost to C-Rank Quality
She blinked hard, but the text didn’t go away.
"Cooking... magic?"
[Newbie Pack Granted]
– 100 Gold
– Starter Ingredients: Eggs, Milk, Flour, Golden Potatoes (x2), Seasonal Berries
– Appliances: Coldbox (Basic), Wok (Basic), Copper Pan (Used), Cutting Board (Softwood)
– Tools: Golden Kitchen Shears (Rare), Starter Knife Set
– Recipes Unlocked: Golden Fries & Sparkling Soda
– Additional Recipes (Locked – Missing Ingredients): Scrambled Eggs with Toast, Boiled Chicken Rice
[Cart Status: Basic Food Cart]
Grade Capability: G to E
Current Output (Enhanced): C
Cart Evolution: Locked
Sell 9 More Dishes to Unlock:
– Access to D & C-Rank Recipes
– Extra Storage Compartnts
A panel appeared on the cart’s roof, displaying a nu board:
[nu Pricing: Set by Dish Grade]
Current Dish Value: 15g
Marron stood there for a long mont, staring at the floating text and trying to process what she was seeing.
Okay. So either I’ve completely lost my mind, or I’m in so kind of fantasy world with video ga chanics. And I’m a chef with magic powers.
She looked around the adow again, at the impossible blue sky and the distant fairy-tale rooftops, then back at her transford food cart.
You know what? I’ve had worse Mondays.
"Alright," she said to the air, feeling only slightly ridiculous. "If this is real, show what I’m working with."
She stepped around to what was clearly the service side of the cart and pushed through a canvas flap into the interior.
It was like stepping into a completely different space.
The inside was clean and well-organized, with gleaming counters and storage that definitely hadn’t existed when she’d first woken up here.
The coldbox humd quietly in one corner. When she opened it, she found exactly the ingredients the system had promised.
Golden potatoes that seed to glow with their own inner light. Eggs with pearlescent shells. Milk in an ice-cold bottle despite having no obvious refrigeration.
Magic ingredients for magic cooking. Why not?
She was reaching for one of the potatoes when she heard sothing rustling in the grass outside.
Footsteps. Heavy ones.
Company.
She grabbed the first thing that looked like a weapon– a cutting board–and crept back to the service window.
A massive brown bear was padding out from behind a cluster of bushes.
Marron’s grip tightened on the cutting board, her heart hamring against her ribs.
Then she noticed the glasses.
The bear was wearing wire-rimd spectacles perched delicately on his snout. And he was moving with the careful, deliberate gait of soone trying very hard not to startle anybody.
He stopped about ten feet from the cart and raised one enormous paw.
"Peace, Chef," he said in a voice like gravel mixed with honey. "I’m not here to eat you."
"...Debatable," Marron managed, still gripping the cutting board.
"I’m Mokko," the bear continued, sitting back on his haunches in what was supposed to be a non-threatening pose. "Guardian and sous-chef, assigned by the food cart. Think of as... quality control and defense."
Marron stared at him. "You’re a bear. With glasses."
"And you’re a reincarnated chef with a transforming cart," Mokko pointed out reasonably. "Let’s not split hairs."
Fair point.
Before she could figure out how to respond to having a conversation with a nearsighted bear, another sound cut through– a rough, desperate cough that made her chest tighten with sympathy.
A man staggered into the clearing from the east. His clothes were travel-stained and his cloak was torn, but it was his eyes that made Marron’s stomach clench with recognition. She’d seen that look in the mirror every morning for the last six months.
Exhausted.
Running on fus and stubbornness.
"Please," he rasped, swaying on his feet. "Food... anything... I’ll pay whatever you ask."
The floating text appeared again:
[Quest Activated: Serve First Custor]
Serve One al Before Sundown
Failure Will Result in Revoked Stall License
Marron’s stomach tightened again, but this ti, with purpose.
She knew exactly what she needed to do.
"I’ve got ingredients," she said, setting down the cutting board and rolling up her sleeves. "Let’s do this."
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