I sat on the cold stone floor, wiping the last bits of raw, spicy, venomous chicken off my chin. My stomach didn't hurt. In fact, it felt like a furnace burning at maximum efficiency.
[Ding!]
[Digestion Complete.]
[Host has fully metabolized: Rabid Spiky Chicken.]
[Hidden Benefit Unlocked: Cholesterol levels are fully ignored by the Gourmet System. Eat garbage. Live forever.]
"I love this system," I whispered.
I pulled up my status window just to admire the numbers. I had dumped five points into Strength and five into Agility, bringing them to 8 and 9 respectively. For a guy who used to get winded walking from the computer chair to the fridge, this was a massive dopamine hit. My muscles felt dense, coiled like springs. My handsome, magazine-cover face broke into a massive grin.
"Alright, Maze," I said, standing up. "You said East for three hundred miles. Let's start walking."
The Maze was exactly what the system had promised: horizontal. There were no stairs leading up into a spooky tower, and no trapdoors leading down into a dark crypt. It was just an impossibly wide, endlessly long corridor carved from gray stone. Glowing green moss ran along the ceiling like LED strip lights.
It reminded me of a flat market. Just a sideways trend on the 4-hour chart. Boring, low volatility, but you knew a massive breakout was coming eventually.
I walked for what felt like an hour. The silence was deafening. My Agility of 9 made my footsteps light and quick. I kept throwing mock punches at the air, marveling at how fast my fists moved. With my Strength at 8, I felt like I could probably punch a hole in a dry wall. A very thin drywall, but still.
"System," I called out, my voice echoing down the corridor. "If I'm a Gourmet Consumer, why didn't I spawn with cooking utensils? Eating raw venom-chicken was a gamble. A high-risk, high-reward play, sure. But I need tools to manage my risk."
[Ding!]
[The Maze provides for those who seek. Look approximately twenty meters ahead, near the left wall.]
I squinted. Sure enough, sitting flush against the damp stone was a wooden crate trimmed in dull iron. It didn't glow with magical light. It looked like something you'd find in the back of a delivery truck.
I jogged over to it. I didn't bother looking for traps. I just grabbed the lid and yanked it open.
Inside sat three items.
"Oh, come on," I groaned.
I reached in and pulled out a heavy, black cast-iron skillet. It was massive, easily twelve inches across, and weighed a solid ten pounds. Underneath it was a wooden spatula. And next to the spatula was a large, plastic shaker jar filled with white powder.
I picked up the jar. The label read: Premium Monosodium Glutamate.
[Loot Acquired: Novice Chef's Starter Kit.]
[Item 1: Heavy Duty Skillet (Common) - Excellent for searing meat. Can cause concussions if swung with enough force. Indestructible by Level 1-10 monsters.]
[Item 2: Unbreakable Spatula (Common) - Good for flipping burgers. Better for prying open monster shells.]
[Item 3: Shaker of MSG (Uncommon) - The King of Flavor. Sprinkle on any monster meal to grant a +10% flavor enhancement and a +5% EXP bonus. 50 uses remaining.]
I stared at the heavy skillet in my hand. "Where is my legendary sword? Where is the spear of destiny? I'm supposed to be a maze raider."
[You are a Gourmet Consumer. Swords are for barbarians who don't know how to properly caramelize onions. If you slice a monster with a sword, you drain the blood and ruin the meat. Blunt force trauma preserves the juices.]
"Blunt force trauma," I repeated, swinging the skillet. It felt good in my hand. With my increased Strength, the heavy iron was completely manageable. "So, I'm basically going to beat my dinner to death with a frying pan."
[Correct. Please prepare yourself. High volatility approaching.]
Before I could ask what that meant, the stone floor beneath my boots began to vibrate. It wasn't a subtle tremor; it felt like a freight train was barreling down the horizontal tunnel.
I tightened my grip on the cast-iron skillet and slid the MSG shaker into my pocket.
From the shadows ahead, a massive shape emerged.
It was a boar. But calling it a boar felt like a massive understatement. It was the size of a compact car. Instead of fur, its entire body was covered in a thick, golden-brown crust that looked exactly like freshly baked bread. Steam hissed from its nostrils. And as it opened its mouth to squeal, I didn't see teeth. I saw bubbling, molten, neon-orange cheese.
[Target Identified: Molten Cheese Boar]
[Level: 5]
[Threat Level: Third-Degree Burns]
[Culinary Note: A walking stuffed crust. The internal cheese core sits at a boiling 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Puncturing the outer crust recklessly will result in severe burns. Wait for it to cool, or eat fast.]
"A living Hot Pocket," I muttered, my mouth immediately watering. "God, I love this place."
The Cheese Boar scraped its hooves against the stone. It let out a deafening squeal that shot a glob of hot cheese onto the floor. The stone sizzled and cracked where the cheese landed.
Okay. That was dangerous. If that hit my face, my handsome new features were going to melt off.
The boar charged. It moved shockingly fast for a creature made of carbohydrates and dairy.
I didn't panic. My heart rate stayed perfectly level. This was exactly like watching a red candle crash right toward my stop-loss. You don't freeze; you react.
I waited until the boar was five feet away, then pushed off my back foot. My Agility of 9 kicked in. I side-stepped with a burst of speed I didn't know I possessed. The massive boar barreled past me, missing my hip by inches. The heat radiating off its crusty body felt like an open oven door.
"Too slow, lunch!" I yelled.
I pivoted, raising the heavy cast-iron skillet high above my head, and brought it down with all the force my Strength of 8 could muster right onto the boar's hindquarters.
CLANG!
The sound echoed down the corridor like a church bell. The skillet didn't even dent, but the bread-crust hide of the boar cracked. A thin line of scalding hot cheese spurted out, splashing onto the floor.
The boar squealed in agony and spun around, snapping its molten jaws at me.
I ducked, feeling the heat singe the tips of my perfect hair. I brought the skillet up in an uppercut motion, slamming the flat of the heavy iron directly under the boar's chin.
CRUNCH.
The crust shattered. The boar stumbled backward, disoriented.
"Time to take profit," I grinned.
I didn't give it a chance to recover. I leaped forward, bringing the heavy skillet down on its head once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The blunt force trauma system was working perfectly. I wasn't bleeding the meat; I was tenderizing the crust.
On the third strike, the boar's legs gave out. It collapsed onto the stone floor with a heavy thud, steam rising heavily from its cracked shell.
[Molten Cheese Boar Defeated.]
[EXP Gained: 0]
"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," I said, breathing hard. My Stamina was still at a pathetic 2, and swinging a ten-pound iron skillet like a baseball bat had nearly wiped me out.
I approached the carcass. The smell was incredible. It smelled like a high-end pizzeria crossed with a bakery.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the shaker of MSG. I popped the lid.
Using my wooden spatula, I carefully pried open the massive crack in the boar's head. The molten orange cheese inside bubbled lazily, radiating intense heat. I sprinkled a heavy, generous dusting of MSG right into the cheese core.
I didn't have a bowl. I didn't have a spoon.
"System," I asked. "If I eat this now, will my minor toxin resistance stop me from burning my tongue off?"
[Negative. Toxin resistance applies to poison, not temperature. However, your Iron Stomach passive will prevent internal organ damage. Your mouth will simply experience extreme discomfort.]
"Extreme discomfort is just the spread you pay to enter the trade," I reasoned.
I used the spatula to scoop a massive glob of the molten, MSG-infused cheese. I blew on it exactly three times—because I wasn't an absolute savage—and shoved it into my mouth.
It was blindingly hot. Tears immediately pricked my eyes as the cheese seared the roof of my mouth. But then the flavor hit. It was rich, sharp, savory, and incredibly meaty despite being entirely dairy. The MSG amplified the umami notes to an insane degree. It was the greatest thing I had ever tasted in either of my lives.
I swallowed hard, feeling the hot cheese slide down my throat and land in my stomach like a warm, heavy rock.
[Ding!]
[Consumed: Molten Cheese Boar (Extremely Hot)]
[Evaluation: Excellent seasoning. Terrible temperature control. Your dedication to gluttony is admirable.]
[EXP Gained: 200]
[MSG Bonus Applied: +10 EXP]
[Condition Met. Level Up!]
[Condition Met. Level Up!]
Two level-ups from one mouthful. The golden light washed over me twice, completely healing the minor burns in my mouth and instantly refilling my depleted stamina.
I didn't stop there. I sat next to the massive bread-carcass and used the spatula to scoop out the cheese, ripping off chunks of the toasted crust to dip into it. I ate until I was completely stuffed, sweating profusely from the heat of the meal.
By the time I scraped the last bits of cheese from the crust, the system pinged again.
[Meal Finished. Total EXP from consumption reached.]
[Condition Met. Level Up!]
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and let out a long, satisfied burp. "Status."
STATUS WINDOW
Name: Kingsley
Level: 6
Class: Gourmet Consumer
Title: Fast Food Casualty
[Base Stats]
HP: 150/150
MP: 20/20
Strength: 8
Agility: 9
Stamina: 2
Intelligence: 8
Luck: 1
[Skills]
* Iron Stomach (Passive) - Lv. Max
* Appraise (Active) - Lv. 1
* Minor Toxin Resistance (Passive) - Lv. 1
* NEW: Asbestos Mouth (Passive) - Lv. 1: You take 50% less damage from extremely hot or cold foods.
[Available Stat Points: 15 ]
Fifteen stat points. I was getting rich off this Maze economy.
I immediately dumped 8 points into Stamina to bring it to a respectable 10. I couldn't afford to get winded after swinging my skillet three times. I put 4 points into Strength, pushing it to 12. And I put the remaining 3 points into Agility, bringing it to an even 12 as well.
I felt the changes instantly. My lungs expanded, feeling deeper and vastly more efficient. The muscles in my arms bulged slightly, pulling my shirt tight. I felt balanced. I felt dangerous.
I stood up, picking up my cast-iron skillet and my wooden spatula. I gave the skillet a practice swing. It felt significantly lighter with my Strength at 12.
"Alright," I said, looking down the endless, dimly lit corridor of Floor 1. "Appetizers are done. Let's go find the main course."