Naples, Italy—a city where the aroma of fresh-baked pizza and simmering marinara wafts through cobblestone streets. But for Evan Saito, the tantalizing smells weren't bringing in any customers to La Trattoria di Saito, his parents' little restaurant tucked into a forgotten corner of the city.
The restaurant was barely holding on. The paint on the sign was peeling, the kitchen equipment was outdated, and the only "customer" that day was a stray cat curled up on a dusty chair by the door. Evan stared at the empty dining room with a sinking heart.
"It's hopeless, Mom," Evan muttered under his breath, glancing at a framed photo of his parents hanging on the wall. His mother's bright smile and his father's proud pose seemed to mock his utter lack of culinary talent. "Why did you leave me this place? I can barely make toast without setting off the smoke alarm."
With a sigh, Evan grabbed a rag to clean the tables. As he wiped away layers of dust, his foot struck something under the counter.
"Eh?" He bent down and pulled out an old, leather-bound recipe book. The cover was embossed with strange symbols that shimmered faintly in the dim light. "What's this? Dad never mentioned anything about a magic cookbook..."
Curiosity piqued, Evan opened the book. The pages were filled with handwritten notes in an elegant script, recipes so intricate they looked more like spells than meals. Suddenly, the symbols on the cover glowed brightly, and the room was filled with a strange hum.
Before Evan could react, a robotic yet cheerful voice echoed in his head:
"Congratulations, User! You have unlocked the Godly Cooking System!"
Evan froze. "Uh… what?"
The voice continued:
"Initializing user profile... Scanning current skill level... Assessment complete."
A holographic screen appeared in front of him, floating in mid-air. It displayed a painfully honest evaluation:
Cooking Skill: 0/100 (Disastrous)
System Status: Beginner Mode Activated
Quest: Make a Perfect Margherita Pizza. Reward: Basic Dough Mastery + 10 System Points.
Evan blinked at the glowing screen, certain he'd lost his mind. "Is this... some kind of joke?"
"No joke detected," the system chirped. "Failure to complete quests may result in system penalties."
"Penalties?" Evan repeated. "What kind of penalties?"
"Examples include: temporary loss of taste, forced karaoke sessions, or the inability to distinguish sugar from salt."
Evan groaned. "Great. A cooking system with a sadistic streak. Fine, let's see what you've got."
The holographic screen transformed, displaying a step-by-step guide to making a Margherita pizza. Flour, water, yeast—simple enough. Evan rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
What followed could only be described as culinary chaos.
The dough stuck to his hands like glue, the sauce splattered across the walls, and he accidentally shattered a jar of olive oil. Flour coated the kitchen floor, turning it into a slippery hazard. At one point, he managed to set a pot of water on fire, though even he wasn't sure how.
The system's voice occasionally chimed in with unhelpful remarks:
"User's kneading technique is reminiscent of a dying walrus. Adjust pressure by 30%."
"Shut up!" Evan snapped, nearly tripping over a rolling pin.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Evan slid his misshapen pizza into the ancient oven. He collapsed onto a chair, covered in flour and sweat, as the smell of baking dough filled the air.
Ding! The system's voice returned:
"Quest Complete! Basic Dough Mastery Unlocked. Reward: 10 System Points."
Evan stared in disbelief as the holographic screen displayed his progress.
New Skill Unlocked: Basic Dough Mastery (Level 1)
Points Available: 10
He grabbed the pizza, took a hesitant bite, and nearly cried. It was… delicious. The crust was perfectly crispy, the sauce tangy and rich, the cheese melted to perfection.
"For once," Evan murmured, "I didn't mess up."
The system chimed again:
"Congratulations! Next quest unlocked: Impress your first customer with a unique dish. Reward: Enhanced Knife Skills."
Evan grinned, a spark of determination igniting in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he could save his family's restaurant after all.
But little did he know, trouble was already on its way. Across town, a group of men in dark suits sat in a smoky backroom, flipping through a ledger of local businesses.
"La Trattoria di Saito," one of them said, tapping the page. "They're overdue on their protection payment. Let's pay them a visit."