Penguin Logistics? What the heck? Since when did penguins have a delivery company?
And wait... this restaurant was given to him by the "legendary hunter." So what, now penguins handle cross-world shipping too?
Still confused, Lance went to open the door… and froze.
Standing there was a "handsome" young woman with a trolley cart.
Yes, handsome.
She was only chest-high to him, with cropped hair, half gloves, and a sharp, boyish air — the kind he was sure made her ridiculously popular among her peers.
But what really caught his eye was the halo hovering above her head.
Yes, a literal halo. And behind her? Floating wings.
While Lance stood stunned, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Your delivery, please sign here."
It was Angel - one of Penguin Logistics' top couriers.
Even for her, this assignment had been bizarre beyond measure. She'd almost refused outright if not for her boss's repeated assurances.
Following the map, she'd found no danger along the way. Still, the weirdness put her on alert until she finally saw the recipient , a completely ordinary-looking man.
Perhaps too ordinary.
As she watched him sign the slip seriously, she couldn't help glancing past him — the place looked like a restaurant, kind of like those back in Lungmen.
Her stomach growled at the thought.
Meanwhile, Lance confirmed his name and phone number on the delivery label. The only odd part was instead of the sender's name, there was a paw print.
Cat's paw print.
Could this be from Teacher himself?
Eyes widening, Lance looked at the courier. Maybe Penguin Logistics really could deliver across dimensions.
"Um… Miss , I've signed."
Despite his surprise, he remained polite and handed the form back.
"Is this… a restaurant?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then… do you have apple pie?"
Apple pie?
He could make that — quite well, actually. His teacher excelled at Western home-style cooking, and pies were a staple of that world.
Except… he had no ingredients.
Just as he awkwardly tried to decline, glowing text appeared before his eyes:
[Side Quest: Unexpected Guest.]
[Description: A chef must satisfy every customer. An unforeseen visitor has arrived — use your culinary skills to create a dish that pleases her.]
[Objective: Make an apple pie that satisfies the guest.]
[Difficulty: D.]
[Reward: Restaurant Subsystem – Ingredient Shop (Unlocked).]
Lance blinked, then exhaled in relief. So the "reward" could be unlocked even from a simple mission.
"I was planning to open the shop later… I haven't stocked ingredients yet."
The courier said nothing, but her faint look of disappointment hit him harder than expected. And Lance being Lance refused to give up.
"Maybe I should check the kitchen. There might be some leftover ingredients," Lance said. "Wait here for a moment, alright?"
Was it just his imagination, or did the halo above the courier girl's head just get… brighter?
"No problem!" she replied, clearly excited.
Lance smiled faintly at her enthusiasm and stepped into the kitchen.
Thrown into this shop by that mysterious man, he hadn't even taken time to explore the place yet this was his first proper look at it.
Instead of rummaging through cabinets, the first thing he did was open the package he'd received.
As the saying goes, "The Main God never gives a death quest." If that box was linked to this mission, it might very well hold the key.
He tore the tape open easily and couldn't help but grin when he looked inside.
It was filled entirely with cooking ingredients. The most eye-catching was a slab of dragon meat, still frozen, along with many other familiar materials he'd once used while training.
After searching for a bit, he found exactly what he needed:
"Apple – Grade E"
"Flour – Grade E"
"Rum – Grade E"
"Eggs – Grade E"
"Butter – Grade E"
It seemed this package was meant to sustain him before the "Ingredient Store" system unlocked but for now, it was saving his life.
Still… what did "Grade E" mean?
He wasn't exactly a master chef, but he'd been trained enough to judge quality. The apple in his hand was perfectly fresh and definitely not subpar. Did that mean even high-quality ingredients in this world only rated as E?
He shelved the thought for now, no sense wasting food. But as he began preparing, a realisation hit him like a truck.
He had ingredients, sure…
But no oven.
He scanned the kitchen carefully, it wasn't small, but one look confirmed his fear. There was no oven.
His expression darkened immediately. Apple pie wasn't hard to make, yet the system had rated it D difficulty. Now the missing oven made sense. How was he supposed to bake without one?!
Still, remembering the courier's bright, expectant eyes, Lance couldn't bring himself to disappoint her. He closed his eyes, tracing back every step of his baking lessons, searching for another method…
Meanwhile, back in the dining area, the courier, Angel, surveyed the modest little restaurant curiously.
Why did it look so ordinary?
Simple because the job wasn't.
Her boss had personally assigned it, insisting she handle it alone. That never happened unless the delivery held something exceptional.
What could be in that box? Since this is a restaurant, maybe rare ingredients? Or maybe the restaurant's just a front... The owner looked normal enough, but maybe it's that 'so ordinary it's suspicious' thing I've heard people in Lungmen talk about…
For once, Angel let her imagination wander but she quickly pulled herself together. She was Penguin Logistics' top field courier, after all. She knew when not to pry. Deliver the package, get the signature, nothing more.
Her musings were cut off when a head poked out from the kitchen.
"I've got some ingredients after all," Lance said. "It'll take about thirty minutes. Can you wait?"
"No problem!" she answered cheerfully.
Seeing her eager smile, Lance exhaled, clenching his fists in quiet resolve.
Apple pie wasn't hard, not if one had the right tools. But opening a restaurant meant going beyond "good enough." He could still hear his teacher's words:
'For a chef, a customer's smile is the best reward. It is your duty to satisfy every guest.'
He might have been thrown into this situation unprepared, but since he was here, he wasn't about to produce anything half-hearted.
"Alright, let's see if my teacher's lessons were worth it!" he said to himself.
The kitchen was empty except for him, yet Lance spoke aloud anyway, as if that orange feline teacher might still be watching.
The lack of a proper oven explained the "D rank" mission difficulty. No microwave, no fancy tools, just an open flame. But improvisation was the mark of a real chef.
The first step: dough.
He opened two different bags of flour, pouring a small bowl from each. They looked similar but weren't the same ... one was high-gluten flour, the other low-gluten. High gluten made foods chewy , ideal for noodles, buns, and choux pastries . While low gluten gave cakes and cookies their softness. A perfect crust needed both.
After mixing them 1:1, he added butter. Animal fat gave a richer mouthfeel than vegetable oil, and once mixed, it was time to knead.
The golden dough changed shape rhythmically under his hands - pressed, folded, slammed against the board. After several minutes:
Pa!
The dough hit the counter, flattening slightly, its surface as smooth as silk. Not a trace of undissolved gluten remained.
"Phew."
He sighed, satisfied. The pie crust determined texture, especially since he'd be pan-frying rather than baking. If this dough wasn't perfect, the result would be far from satisfying.
Setting the dough aside, he grabbed freshly washed apples and began peeling them.
Peeling was crucial . Unpeeled apple flesh had a different texture, sometimes ruining the mouthfeel. If time allowed, he could have simmered them soft with the skin on, but now speed mattered.
Despite the time pressure, his knife flashed like lightning. Two apples were peeled bare in under thirty seconds, releasing a sweet, refreshing aroma , but he had no time to enjoy it.
Apples oxidized fast. Too much exposure, and they'd brown and lose flavor. In one fluid motion, he brought down the knife.
Pa!
The apples split in two.
Tack tack tack tack…
The crisp repetitions of blade against board filled the kitchen. In seconds, neat cubes replaced the halves.
Next, he lit the stove. Butter, now melted from before, went into the pan with a hiss.
Swiftly, he swept the apple cubes in with his knife.
Sizzle!
The aroma deepened as the heat softened the fruit, and Lance stirred it continuously to keep cooking evenly.
Not a drop of attention wavered. Oil popped, fruit shimmered, and when he finally pressed one piece with the spatula...
"Perfect."
He reached for the rum.
Pop! — the cork came loose, releasing a wave of sweet fragrance.
Any connoisseur would weep to see such fine liquor poured into a pan, but Lance didn't hesitate.
He tipped the bottle .
BOOM!
Fire burst up in a vivid blaze, licking the ceiling, but Lance didn't flinch. Calmly, he covered the bottle, set it aside, and stirred until the flames burned themselves out.
Soon, the air was no longer sharp with alcohol ...it was sweet. The sugarcane base of rum had caramelized with the fruit into a rich, golden aroma. The flambé had finished it perfectly.
When the flames finally vanished, Lance nodded in satisfaction. The filling was complete.
Now came the final stage: assembling the apple pie. He turned toward the dough, eyes gleaming.
(Chapter End)