He recalled eating there years ago, when Maria and her husband ran it. It wasn't fancy, just a simple takeaway joint, but the chicken had been legendary, perfectly cooked over coals, skin crispy, meat juicy, seasoned with some secret family spice blend. The chips were always hand-cut, fluffy inside, crispy outside. They’d often sell out before closing time. A real neighbourhood gem, built on hard work and pride.
But he’d also noticed recently that the shop looked… neglected. The paint was peeling, the sign faded. And online reviews he’d idly scanned confirmed his fears, since the elderly couple retired and let their son take over, the quality had plummeted. ‘Dry chicken’, ‘soggy chips’, ‘lost its magic’, ‘disappointing’. The son “Jono”, rumour had it, was more interested in flashy, failed business schemes than tending the coals, viewing the shop as a burden rather than a legacy. Perfect. A business with declining quality due to operational issues (lack of skill/care), not fundamentally flawed ingredients. An ideal test bed. If enhancing the tools could elevate the output even with a subpar operator…
Thursday afternoon arrived, clear and mundane. Time for the field test. Theo walked the few blocks to 'Maria's Charcoal Chicken'. From the outside, the neglect was more apparent in the harsh daylight, paint peeling from the window frames, the once-bright cartoon chicken logo faded and weather-beaten, a neon 'Open' sign flickering erratically. He remembered queues stretching out the door on weekend nights years ago, the air thick with the irresistible aroma of charcoal smoke and spices.
He pushed open the door, a small, grime-coated bell jangling above. The smell inside now was less tempting charcoal and more stale grease and apathy. The warmth from the rotisserie felt weak. Behind the counter, illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights and the glow of his smartphone screen, slouched a young man in his early thirties wearing a faded band t-shirt under a stained apron. Jono, presumably. He looked up from his phone with an expression of profound indifference as Theo approached.
"Yeah? Whatcha want?" Jono mumbled, not bothering to stand up straight.
"Half chicken and a small chips, please," Theo said, keeping his tone neutral.
Jono sighed, as if the request were a monumental effort. He finally pocketed his phone and shuffled over to the large, glass-fronted warming cabinet beside the rotisserie. He pulled out a chicken half that looked like it had been sitting there for hours, its skin wrinkled and disappointingly pale rather than crisp and golden brown. He slapped it onto the chopping block with a wet thud and hacked at it inexpertly with a large cleaver, pieces flying slightly. He didn't seem to notice or care.
Theo leaned casually against the counter, trying to project harmless customer curiosity. "Been coming here since I was a kid," he offered conversationally. "Your mom, Maria, right? She made the best charcoal chicken around. Place used to be packed."
Jono paused his chopping, glancing up with a flicker of something, annoyance or maybe resignation? "Yeah, well, that was then," he grunted, going back to mutilating the chicken. "Times change." He scraped the pieces into a cardboard box with the side of the cleaver.
He moved over to the deep fryer station. He scooped a basket of pale, pre-cut potatoes from a container, they looked suspiciously uniform, likely frozen, not the hand-cut ones Theo remembered, and dropped them into the fryer without shaking off excess ice crystals, causing the oil to hiss and spit violently. He barely seemed to watch them, instead leaning back against the counter, already reaching for his phone again.
"So, uh, business doing okay?" Theo pressed gently, trying to gauge his attitude.
Jono shrugged, eyes still on his phone screen. "It's whatever. Pays the bills... mostly." He finally looked up, a spark of defensive energy entering his voice. "But look, this?" He waved a dismissive hand around the tired-looking shop. "This is just temporary, man. Stepping stone. I got way bigger plans."
"Oh yeah?" Theo feigned interest.
Jono's posture straightened slightly, finally animated. "Yeah! Got a couple killer ideas. One's like, this AI-driven platform for curated NFT art drops, totally disruptive. And another is a high-frequency crypto arbitrage bot using quantum-inspired algorithms." He rattled off buzzwords, his eyes gleaming with misplaced ambition. "Once one of those takes off, and trust me, they will, I'm selling this greasy chicken shack faster than you can say 'seed round'. No more smelling like charcoal all day." He seemed utterly convinced of his impending tech-mogul status.
The fryer timer beeped aggressively. Jono silenced it, hoisted the basket, gave it a cursory shake, and dumped the pale, slightly greasy-looking chips into another box. He grabbed a salt shaker and showered them with an alarming amount of white powder while simultaneously trying to unlock his phone again.
"How are your folks doing, anyway?" Theo asked, remembering Maria's kind face. "Hope they're enjoying retirement?"
Jono's brief flicker of enthusiasm vanished, replaced by a sullen frown. He shoved the boxes of chicken and chips across the counter. "Dunno. Haven't talked to 'em much lately," he mumbled, avoiding Theo's gaze. "They don't get it, you know? Keep giving me the same old lecture, 'Work hard, Jono! Maintain the shop's reputation! It's a good living if you just put in the effort!'" He scoffed, the sound bitter. "A 'good living'. Right. Like I busted my ass getting a business degree to run a suburban chicken joint for the rest of my life. They just don't understand real ambition." He tapped dismissively on the countertop. "That'll be fifteen."
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Theo paid, taking the lukewarm boxes. The brief interaction confirmed everything. Jono had zero passion, blamed his parents for his own lack of effort, and was chasing get-rich-quick schemes while letting a potentially solid business wither. He was the perfect unwitting subject. Zero chance he'd notice or care about subtle improvements in his equipment's performance, likely attributing any positive change to dumb luck.
Theo took the food outside, sitting on a nearby bench. He unwrapped it. The chicken skin was flabby, not crisp. The meat, as the reviews promised, was dry, tough, and woefully under-seasoned. The chips were greasy, undercooked, and indeed overloaded with salt in a failed attempt to provide flavour. It was objectively bad fast food, a pale shadow of its former glory. Rating: 3/10, purely for being technically edible.
Perfectly disappointing.
As he walked away, tossing the barely touched meal into a public bin, he lingered near the shop's side alley for a moment, ensuring he wasn't observed. He focused on the large, industrial-looking charcoal rotisserie visible through a grimy back window, picturing its heating elements, its rotation mechanism. Chicken Roaster. +1 Cooking Consistency/Efficiency. Un-enhance Sunday night, approximately 72 hours from now. Thrum. (Charge 1/10). Then, he focused on the deep fryer unit, imagining its thermostat, its heating coils. Deep Fryer. +1 Temperature Stability/Recovery. Thrum. (Charge 2/10). Two charges invested, timer set. Now, he just had to wait and see if enhancing the tools could overcome the apathy of the operator. He planned to revisit early next week.
Friday morning. With the chicken shop experiment underway and his mind buzzing with the possibilities of tool enhancement and un-enhancement, Theo found himself thinking about Sarah again. Her genuine passion for her project stood in stark contrast to the cynical calculations dominating his own thoughts. His earlier paranoia about interaction felt… lessened, somehow. The tool enhancement strategy provided a much more plausible cover story if anyone ever noticed strange improvements around him, he could claim to be a 'process optimization consultant' or 'efficiency expert'. It felt less like hiding a magical bazooka and more like concealing a set of very specialized, very effective wrenches.
And Sarah… her tech skills were undeniably sharp. Her frustration with Meta was real. Could she, potentially, be useful down the line? Not just as an ally, but as someone with skills he lacked if he ever decided to build something requiring actual software or data analysis? The thought was still layered with risk, but the potential upside felt more tangible now. And maybe, just maybe, having one person he could have a semi-normal conversation with wouldn't be the worst thing.
Okay, reach out. Suggest meeting... where? Definitely not another coffee shop. Gods, no. The memory of those six vastly different, yet equally potent mugs from the experiment earlier in the week, the lingering acidic tang that felt permanently etched onto his taste buds, the caffeine headache that had finally subsided this morning... the mere thought of smelling freshly ground coffee beans right now made his stomach churn slightly. He needed a serious break from coffee, maybe permanently, or most probably a week or two, when he’d feel the irresistible draw of caffeine again. He mentally scanned alternatives. Drinks felt too much like a date, carried implications he wasn't ready for. Lunch seemed too formal, too much potential for awkward silences or probing questions. What was casual, quick, neutral ground, and decidedly not coffee? Bubble tea? Yeah. Sugary, trendy enough to be unremarkable, distracting with all the chewing. Everyone seemed to drink that stuff. Perfect.
He typed, deleted, then typed again, crafting the message carefully:
Theo: Hey Sarah. Thinking more about your project & the job situation. Still think caution is wise, but your passion is convincing. If you want to bounce more specific ideas around sometime next week, maybe over bubble tea instead of more caffeine? Let me know.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The reply came back almost instantly.
Sarah: Bubble tea!! YES! Awesome idea (seriously cannot face more coffee rn lol). How about Tuesday afternoon? My treat this time! And thanks Theo, really appreciate the input (and the pragmatism!). You have no idea how much talking it through helps. ??
Theo read her enthusiastic reply, a faint, unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. Tuesday. Okay. He could handle that.
The rest of the weekend passed in a state of restless anticipation. Theo spent hours trying to trigger the System screen again, meditating, focusing on his bank balance, trying different mental commands, all with zero success. It remained stubbornly hidden. He further tested the enhance/un-enhance mechanics on various household objects, confirming the rules he’d deduced. Ten +1 enhancements per day. Unlimited un-enhancements, which cost no charge. Timed reversals worked flawlessly.
Sunday night arrived. He found himself unable to settle. The timed enhancements on the chicken shop equipment were due to expire sometime overnight. Would there be a noticeable difference tomorrow? Would enhancing the tools truly elevate the food, even with the indifferent son at the helm? The potential success of this low-key experiment felt disproportionately important, a key data point for his entire future strategy. He paced his apartment, the lingering effects of the coffee experiment earlier in the week perhaps still contributing to his inability to relax, but mostly it was the raw, impatient excitement of waiting for the results. The climb was slow, but he felt, finally, like he might have found a safer, smarter path upwards.
Theodore Sterling - Financial Ledger (End of Week 15)
- Starting Balance (Beginning Week 15): $60,510.00 (Carried over from End of Week 14)
- Income (Week 15):
- No Sales/Income Generating Activity: +$0.00
- Total Income: +$0.00
- Expenses (Week 15):
- Rent Paid (Week 15): -$450.00
- Living Expenses (Week 15): -$500.00
- Chicken Shop 'Research' Purchase: -$15.00 (Est.)
- Total Expenses: -$965.00
- Net Change (Week 15): +$0.00 (Income) - $965.00 (Expenses) = -$965.00
- Ending Balance (End of Sunday, Week 15): $59,545.00
Status: Week focused on analysing previous discoveries and initiating new experiments. No income generated. Confirmed 'Un-Enhance' ability (Level 1 reward) and its rules (no charge cost, unlimited use, timed reversal). Successfully tested hypothesis that enhancing tools impacts output quality via controlled coffee experiment. Initiated real-world 'Tool Enhancement' test at local chicken shop (timed enhancement on equipment). Continued research into low-visibility ventures. Re-established contact with Sarah, meeting scheduled. Financial reserves remain strong (~$59.5k). Awaiting results of chicken shop experiment to validate new strategic direction.