Evan stared at the ceiling of his shop, lying flat on his back behind the counter, his arm draped over his face to block out the harsh light that poured in through the windows. The floor felt solid beneath him, an anchor in a world that had become increasingly chaotic, yet his mind whirled in a million directions, struggling to grasp the gravity of his situation. The system's voice from earlier still echoed ominously in his ears, a relentless reminder of his predicament:
"Quest in progress: Sell 10 bowls of Instant Ramen. Reward: Shop upgrade. Penalty: Death."
Death. The system couldn't have been more explicit about what was at stake. He had sold exactly one bowl of Ramen so far. One. Out of ten. And now he felt utterly lost, unsure how to offload the remaining nine without stumbling into further complications or mishaps in this strange, fantastical world.
With a groan, he sat up and leaned against the counter, the rough wood pressing into his back like a persistent reminder of his responsibilities. "Why Ramen? Of all the things I could be selling in a magical world filled with swords and sorcery, why is it noodles in a cup?" His voice dripped with incredulity, as if the universe had conspired against him in the most absurd way possible.
Evan sighed heavily, his eyes wandering across the shelves stocked with the brightly colored cups of Ramen, their cheerful packaging contrasting sharply with the growing anxiety tightening around his chest. The system had rewarded him with the product after his first sale, yet he was left with only a vague understanding of its appeal to adventurers. Lyra's reaction had been the first clue that there was something unique about it—how her strength surged during the battle with the Razorclaw Bear had made it painfully evident that this was no ordinary meal.
But even now, he struggled to grasp the full extent of its powers, or why it held such a magnetic allure for potential customers who were accustomed to wielding swords and casting spells.
"Maybe I should be offering a 'buy one, get one free' deal," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes in frustration, as if that would somehow conjure a solution to his dilemma that felt so insurmountable.
Just then, the soft chime of the system interrupted his spiraling thoughts, cutting through the haze of his worries like a beacon.
"Progress: 1/10 bowls sold. Quest active. Time remaining: 5 days."
"Five days?" Evan yelped, springing to his feet as if jolted by an electric shock. "I thought I had more time!" Panic surged through him, a visceral response to the relentless ticking clock that seemed to echo the urgency of his predicament.
The system was cruel, no doubt about that. Not only was it dangling death over his head like a sword of Damocles, but now it was hastening the clock, tightening the noose with every passing moment.
Evan began to pace the length of the shop, his mind racing as he racked his brain for ways to sell the rest of the Ramen. What did adventurers even consume? Some dry jerky? Mysterious potions? Surely something more practical than noodles in a cup, especially when faced with the dangers lurking in the Great Forest.
He ran his fingers through his hair, muttering under his breath like a madman. "Maybe I could set up a food stall outside… or offer free samples? Would that even work? Does anyone here know what a sample is?" The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, his thoughts spiraling until he felt a familiar pang of anxiety grip his chest. It wasn't just the pressure of selling the Ramen—it was the overwhelming realization that he was navigating a completely different world, running a shop that shouldn't even exist. He knew nothing about the people here, their customs, or what motivated them to make a purchase.
And to top it all off, the system wasn't offering him any reprieve, just a countdown of doom.
Just then, Evan's stomach growled audibly, pulling him from his internal monologue. "Great," he muttered, "hungry on top of everything else." The irony wasn't lost on him; here he was, fretting over his impending doom while his stomach reminded him of its own very basic needs.
He glanced at the shelves of Ramen and rolled his eyes in resignation, feeling the weight of his situation pressing down on him. "Might as well eat one myself, right? No point in dying on an empty stomach," he said with a resigned smirk, attempting to lighten the mood even if just for himself.
With a heavy sigh, he grabbed a cup of Instant Ramen from the shelf and filled it with hot water from the dispenser, setting it down on the counter to cook. As he leaned against the counter, waiting for his meal to be ready, his thoughts returned to the pressing problem at hand: How in the world was he going to sell nine more bowls before the deadline loomed over him?
The familiar sound of the shop's bell rang out, breaking his concentration. Evan looked up, and to his surprise, Rook strolled in, a cocky grin plastered across his face as usual, exuding an air of confidence that momentarily eased Evan's growing tension. The rogue's presence was a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, Evan felt a flicker of hope that perhaps Rook might have some ideas to help him out of this mess.