Back-Alley Chef

"…Huh?"

He blinked twice. What the hell was this?

He peered closely at the quest window again.

Suspicious characters lined up next to "Qualifications of a Chef." Numbers should have been neatly attached there, but what were these glitchy-looking symbols? And a hidden class? What even was a hidden class? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Besides, a chef was a chef. What the hell was a Back-Alley Chef?

As he stared at the quest window, a suspicious figure lurking in the alley's shadows chuckled and rose from the darkness.

Illuminated by the dim streetlamp, he looked like a half-mad scientist.

"What're you mulling over? Don't wanna be a chef?"

"Ah, no. Of course I want to be a chef, but just a little…"

"Suspicious?"

That hit the nail on the head. Who'd immediately say yes to a homeless guy sprawled in an alley asking if you wanna be a chef?

"Yeah…"

The old man cackled. "You took Gordon's chef job change exam, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you…"

"Failed at stage 10, huh?"

"…! How'd you know that too…!"

Ignoring his words, the man muttered with a satisfied grin. "Heh heh heh. Finally, a kid who meets that picky bastard's standards."

"…Pardon?"

The old geezer was spouting nothing but nonsense. "You know Gordon?"

"Eh, you could say that. But that's not the point right now. Don't wanna be a chef?"

"Ah, no! I do wanna be a chef!"

"Then why not accept right away?"

"Well, uh…"

He kept glancing back and forth between the quest window and the undeniably shady old man.

The geezer suddenly grabbed his hand. "Hmm. Lots of scars. Recent ones?"

"Yeah. From learning to cook…"

After inspecting his hands, the old man nodded. "You've got talent as a chef."

"Really?"

It was exactly what he'd longed to hear. Though he'd never imagined hearing it from a crazy scientist-type lying in a back alley.

"Yep. Passing Gordon's stage 1 is impressive enough. So, wanna become a chef?"

Ding!

"Eek. Back-Alley Chef? Feels kinda illegal."

"Don't like it? I can tweak it."

"Really?"

"Sure thing. How about Cookity-Cook Chef?"

Ding!

"…This is even worse."

"What a picky brat."

The shady old man grumbled in dissatisfaction. "Listen. The name doesn't matter. It's just a shell. Do you have a chef's heart?"

"…A chef's heart?"

"Yeah. Skills and knowledge for cooking? Not that important. Do you have the heart to move people with your food? Not for yourself, but for those who eat it."

"Heart…"

He thought of Beda. The guy had teared up over a simple fried egg. He'd never forget that sight.

With a firm nod, he said, "Yeah. I do."

"Good. Now you sound like a chef. Grab my hand. Or go back to Gordon and start from stage 1? I guarantee you'll fail at 10 again."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Just know he has his reasons. So, what's it gonna be? Got what it takes to be a chef?"

The old man extended his hand with a sly grin.

"Yes! Absolutely!"

As he reached for the offered hand, he hesitated. "But, uh, even so, Cookity-Cook Chef is a bit…"

"Fine, I'll tweak it back. Back-Alley Chef better?"

"Yes."

Ding!

"Uh, so how do I job change?"

"Grab my hand."

"That's it? No test?"

"Nope."

"For real?"

"For real. You live getting scammed or what?"

No test at all… It was too suspicious.

"My hand's gonna fall off. Gonna grab it, chef?"

Screw it! What's life without risks? Names don't matter, like he said.

He grabbed the old man's hand firmly.

Ding!

"Oh, oho! Finally!"

The name was a bit weird, but hey, he was a chef now. All those weeks of suffering weren't for nothing!

Ahh. Was this the scent of air a chef breathes? The world as seen by a chef. Look at these hands. Couldn't he feel the thrilling chef energy coursing through his body?

"……."

…Actually, he felt nothing.

What the? It was the same as before? Shouldn't becoming a chef change something?

"Uh… Got any tips? Like special recipes? Or unique cooking tools?"

"Hmm… You made it to stage 10, so basics are solid. Special recipes? Chefs make their own. Otherwise, they're not special. Every chef has their own recipes. Build your own culinary world."

"Ah, okay…"

So, nothing at all, huh?

Noticing his disappointed face, the old man cleared his throat. "Ahem. As for tools… There's a good one nearby. Dungeon called Minare's Villa. You can snag a decent cooking tool there."

Ding!

…So, get it yourself?

"Got it. Gotta hunt my own tools, huh… Suddenly miss Gordon."

At least Gordon lent all his tools.

Smack!

"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"

"You punk! Do you know how premium that info is? Can't buy it for money!"

"Ah, sorry. I'm a noob, didn't know."

"Kids these days."

The mad scientist—no, mad chef—muttered to himself.

…Sounded like what he said to elementary kids.

"Oh right, almost forgot. Got something good for you."

He pulled a pouch full of white powder from his bosom.

"Heh heh heh. Eat this and feel good?"

"Eek! What's that?! Drugs?! Where'd you get it?!"

"Heh heh heh. Drugs? Way better than that junk. Knowing too much hurts."

He reluctantly took the pouch. "Ugh. What do I do with this?"

"Sprinkle a bit in your cooking. Magic'll happen."

"Okay…"

He eyed the mysterious white powder suspiciously.

"But when do I—"

As ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he examined the unidentified powder and looked up, no one was there. Only a chill wind blew through the dark alley.

"…Figure it out yourself."

"That Gordon punk. Said he'd never take another disciple… Must really like him."

From the rooftop of a ramshackle building, the mysterious old man watched Hura's retreating figure down the alley and muttered.

"…I wonder if that kid can carry on the legacy."

The young man glancing around the dark alley yelped and screamed as a cat jumped out beside him.

"Whoaah!"

"……."

"Help! Save me!"

The old man sighed deeply at the sight of him sprinting desperately down the alley.

"…Shouldn't expect too much."

"You job changed?"

"Yep!"

"For real?"

"Would I kid about this?!"

"Wooow!"

Hura and Dahyun grabbed hands and jumped for joy. Her fairy hands were so tiny, she could only grip his fingertip again.

"How'd it happen? Did Gordon let you retake?"

"Nah. Someone else did it."

"Oh, right. Not everyone's a chef. So, what'd you pick? Swordsman? Archer? Mage? Thief maybe?"

"Haha, no. Still a chef, but a special kind."

"Huh? Special how?"

Dahyun's eyes widened as she stared at him.

"C'mon, don't play dumb. You know all the jobs."

"Huh? No, we don't."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Simus, the AI, handles most of Fantasy World. From NPC and monster AI to quests, jobs, skills. We don't know the fine details. New jobs pop up sometimes, and hidden classes super rarely."

Made sense. Couldn't manually tweak every little thing.

"What's a hidden class?"

"Exactly what it sounds like—hidden job. Sometimes a bunch of factors and conditions align, and bam, hidden job unlocks. But it's super rare. Like, astronomical odds. Don't get your hopes up."

"Uh…"

He stared blankly at her, speechless.

Seeing his face, Dahyun's expression slowly hardened.

"No way… A hidden class?"

"Uh… Yeah."

"Liar."

"It's true."

They grabbed hands again and jumped.

"Oh my gosh! Customer-nim got a hidden class! Congrats!"

"Haha, thanks. That good, huh?"

"Of course! Rank 1's a hidden class too."

"Oh yeah?"

If it got you to Rank 1, hidden classes were the real deal. Finally, a ray of light in his life.

"So, what's your job name, customer-nim?"

"Back-Alley Chef."

"…Back-Alley Chef?"

"Yep."

"Kinda sounds illegal."

"He even gave me this white powder."

He pulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the pouch from the mad chef out of his inventory.

"…What's that?"

"Dunno. Said it'd make you feel good if you eat it…"

"……."

"Something's there. Something hidden."

The red-haired woman laid out clues on her desk.

Ancient books dug up from the library. Letters they'd exchanged. The crown worn by Emperor Minare. A treasure map from a quest reward.

All pointed to one place.

"To think such a huge secret was hidden in a beginner dungeon."

Rank 5 Red Witch, Molrangkau, murmured as she toyed with her alluring lips, intrigued.

A faint smile played on them.

"Minare's Villa, huh…"