For three days, all Joko did was keep practicing with Chef Burhan.
Only after the fourth day did Chef Burhan finally nod and say, “Pass.”
(DING! As a reward for passing Chef Burhan’s class, the Cooking System has awarded Host a kiosk to start a business! Don’t worry about ingredients or kitchen equipment—the system has prepared everything!)
“I have a kiosk in Jakarta?” Joko asked in disbelief.
(Host, it’s only being rented for three months. If Host fails in business during those three months, the system will unbind.)
“Hey! Hey? What kind of system does that?” Joko jolted in shock.
(Start immediately, Host! Target: one million in revenue per day. Deadline: three months. Good luck.)
“Ahhh! System!” Joko immediately got out of bed, took a shower, and left his tiny rented room.
He then began his journey on his old motorcycle, heading toward the kiosk indicated by the system.
Amid the capital’s dense, crawling traffic, it took Joko an hour to reach the Blok M area.
When he arrived, Joko gasped at the sight of a small shop-house near the outer area of the Blok M terminal.
The shop was small and dark. But Joko still went inside to follow the arrow. As it turned out, it was in a fairly strategic location, outside and directly facing the main road. There was no need to go any farther inside.
Joko could feel that the system had placed the kiosk’s key in his pocket. He immediately opened the red sliding door.
But things weren’t what Joko had expected. The system had completely renovated the kiosk, which Joko had thought was poorly maintained. It was now clean, and the kitchen was fairly modern. There was even a refrigerator and freezer, already installed and ready to use.
The electricity and water were already running too.
While Joko was busy looking around his new kiosk, three men arrived carrying supplies for the shop.
“Hello, are you Joko?” asked one of the young men.
“Yes, that’s me.” Joko nodded.
“We’re from the supplier. We’ve come to deliver the chicken you ordered, sir.”
“Oh, right. Thanks, man.”
“Hello, are you Mr. Joko? I’m the one who called this morning. I’ve delivered the vegetables.”
“Sir, here’s the rice!”
The suppliers ordered by the system began arriving one after another.
“Is all of this free, System?” Joko stared in disbelief. He had thought he would have to spend his severance pay to start the business.
(Host, apart from the three-month shop-house rental, Host must pay for the electricity, water, internet, and everything else. Whenever the shop closes, the system will immediately deduct the money used to pay the bills.)
“Ah. So it’s debt. I knew it.”
Joko quickly put away the supplies and started cooking. He didn’t forget to put on a mask and hair covering.
Hygiene standards were the first thing Chef Burhan had taught Joko when teaching him how to cook.
“No customer will want to eat at a restaurant when they see that the restaurant or its chef doesn’t meet hygiene standards.”
That was what Joko held to now.
Joko began marinating the chicken. Delicious garlic fried chicken required an important marinating process.
As he prepared the ingredients, Joko slapped his forehead. Promotion!
Right away, Joko posted a WhatsApp status so that office workers and acquaintances in Jakarta could see his newest business.
It didn’t take long. While Joko was busy, a message notification suddenly startled him.
Siska from Sales was interested in Paijo’s newest business.
“Jo? You opened a food stall? Is it on Gojek or ShopeeFood yet?”
(DING! Host! The system has registered Host’s food stall on online food-delivery platforms!)
“Huh? Already?”
Joko immediately checked the apps on his phone. Sure enough, the system had registered him as a merchant.
Joko sent the link to his food stall to Siska.
“There you go. It’s already registered.”
“Wow, it looks delicious, Jo. I just checked out.”
“Wow, thanks, Ms. Siska 🙏. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, Joko. It better taste good.”
“I guarantee it’ll be delicious!”
Shope!
The notification ringtone from one of the online platforms echoed through the shop.
“Yes! Let’s go!” Joko then fried the garlic chicken that Ms. Sisca had ordered.
The distinctive aroma of the fried chicken began to waft through the air, making visitors around Blok M search for its source.