Chapter 12: Equipment Upgrade!
Seeing the fresh bamboo shoots, Ling Jing was reminded of what had happened when she went looking for ingredients earlier.
While foraging for potatoes, she had also “suffered” an attack from a mutated plant.
A swaying twig had crept toward her.
It had definitely mutated.
At least in the real world, Ling Jing had never seen a branch sprout three finger-like appendages shaped like leaves.
The moment the twig made contact with the white light surrounding the tricycle, it was instantly pulverized into dust.
Just like the bamboo shoot monster she had seen not long ago.
It vanished the instant it touched the barrier’s white light.
That was precisely why she had been so confident in Rule 2 of the Restaurant Rules, telling the crowd not to panic.
Where the pulverized twigs had gone was anyone’s guess, but the bamboo shoot had clearly been converted into fresh ingredients right on her cart.
Ling Jing examined the bamboo shoots in the tricycle. They were plump, fresh, and large.
So the white light possessed such a miraculous function.
Turning around, she prepared to see what was so special about the tent provided by the system.
The tent looked completely ordinary, but when Ling Jing unpacked it, the word “Erect” appeared.
She reached out and tapped it, and the tent began setting itself up automatically.
It was just like an animated cutscene from a mobile app.
Moments later, a fully pitched tent stood before her.
She didn’t have to lift a finger.
Ling Jing raised an eyebrow, lifted the tent flap, and stepped inside with the lantern in hand.
The interior space was noticeably larger than it appeared from the outside.
A one-room studio.
There was a bed, a wardrobe, and a set of wooden desk and chairs.
The bedding was neatly made.
Opening the wardrobe, she found several sets of comfortable, casual sportswear hanging inside.
Two pairs of shoes were prepared as well.
The system was quite thoughtful.
At the very back, there was another door.
Ling Jing walked over and opened it to find a bathroom.
It featured a basic shower and toilet, resembling the ensuite bathroom of a four-person university dorm.
All the essential living amenities were accounted for.
Body wash, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, and facial cleanser were fully stocked—there was even a bottle of Dabao moisturizer.
Ling Jing picked up the Dabao bottle with a touch of nostalgia.
It had been quite some time since she last used this brand.
That concluded her tour of the tent.
It truly felt like stepping into an alternate pocket dimension.
Click.
Ling Jing pulled the cord of the hanging lamp, and the room instantly brightened.
Setting the lantern aside, she sat down at the desk.
From the moment she opened her eyes until now, Ling Jing had indeed experienced many things that defied her past understanding of reality.
Fortunately, her adaptability was extraordinary. To rise from scratch and build a publicly traded catering chain, she had relied on her formidable resilience and quick wit.
Accepting reality and making timely adjustments had long become second nature to her.
Now that her first day in this parallel world was coming to a close, she finally had the time to sit down and thoroughly inspect the unlocked official Management Interface.
When it first unlocked that afternoon, Ling Jing had only given it a cursory glance.
The management interface was laid out quite clearly.
It was divided into six main categories: Shop Expansion, Equipment Upgrade, Shop Decoration & Layout, Mall, Recipes, and Quests.
The first four sections looked very much like top-up menus in mobile games.
One look made your eyes spin with all the flashy options.
A closer look revealed that every single one required spending points.
Her current establishment was rated as a [Rudimentary Stall]; expanding it to a [Rudimentary Restaurant] required 1,000 points.
Under Equipment, she only possessed the [Roasting Machine] and the [Cash Box]. Upgrading the roaster to the next tier to double its capacity cost 200 points.
Shop Decoration & Layout went without saying. Her little tricycle didn’t have much room for redecorating; it was presumably meant for renovating a proper storefront once she acquired one later.
The Mall was comprehensively stocked with everything from ingredients and seasonings to daily necessities and home appliances.
Very few items were affordable; the vast majority remained grayed out.
That was because her points in the top-right corner stood at a modest 110.
It matched today’s revenue down to the cent.
In other words, points were converted one-to-one from transaction revenue.
Whether under Equipment Upgrade or Shop Decoration & Layout, Ling Jing found nothing related to upgrading the “tent.”
Searching high and low, she finally noticed a line of small print at the very bottom of Shop Decoration & Layout.
[Host’s quarters upgrade alongside the core business establishment.]
Meaning the larger the shop, the better the living quarters?
Fair enough. At least that saved her from spending extra points.
Reviewing each section in turn, Ling Jing tapped on [Recipes].
Unlike the previous tabs, this one wasn’t cluttered with countless grayed-out options.
Currently, there were only two entries.
Unlocked: [Roasted Potato], [Roasted Sweet Potato].
Both had pictures accompanied by dish names, beneath which were detailed listings of their attributes and buffs.
It seemed to function like an exploratory recipe log: whatever dish she successfully prepared would be recorded here.
Quite interesting. It offered a high degree of creative freedom.
Did everything depend on her culinary skills?
Ling Jing opened the final category, [Quests].
Novice Quest: Complete 10 transactions (10/10) [Completed]
Please claim your reward!
The prompt displayed on the interface.
She tapped claim.
Instantly, dazzling visual effects erupted across the management panel, accompanied by a triumphant “ta-da!” jingle.
Along with the digital fireworks came the reward details.
—[Congratulations! You have received 20 Points!]
A slow question mark formed in Ling Jing’s mind.
All that grand fanfare, and that was all the points it gave?
It was the spitting image of those stingy game developers who made a massive fuss over a pittance of rewards.
She let out a wry chuckle.
Her points in the upper-right corner ticked up from 110 to 130.
Splendid. She still couldn’t afford practically anything.
The Novice Quest vanished from the quest log, replaced by a fresh line of text.
Daily Quest: [Rudimentary Stall] Rank — Daily Revenue (0/200) (Takes effect starting at midnight)
Beneath it was another line of fine print:
—Failure to complete the Daily Quest will result in a penalty deduction of 20% of the day’s revenue.
Good grief. A reward of twenty points, but a penalty deduction of twenty percent.
You guys sure know how to play the game.
Even real-world game developers aren’t quite as cutthroat as this management system.
Having reviewed every section, Ling Jing clicked back to the Equipment Upgrade tab.
Almost everything here demanded points.
Only one equipment upgrade required zero points: the Cash Box.
Remembering how the numbers on the cash box had climbed with every sale, she opened its upgrade details.
[Cash Box Upgrade Condition: Revenue threshold met.] [You may select the upgrade path.]
Ling Jing browsed through the upgrade paths for the Cash Box.
Hmm… the Cash Box currently had two known functions.
The first was collecting money, and the second was appraisal and conversion.
It could convert “items” other than standard currency, turning them into money to hand back to the customer.
Ling Jing had done plenty of that today.
The upgrade paths branched naturally from these two capabilities.
The first path granted a 3% daily bonus to all collected transaction revenue.
The second path expanded the categories of items eligible for conversion.
A 3% boost might sound like a lot or a little depending purely on the base amount.
Given her current daily revenue, 3% could hardly be considered substantial.
Ling Jing clicked on the second option to view the additional item categories available for conversion.
The very first option that met her eyes was [Ingredients].
Without hesitation, she selected this upgrade.
[Congratulations! Your Cash Box has been upgraded! New addition: Item Exchange Box, distributed to your Rudimentary Stall.]
Not bad. It completely separated currency exchange from payment collection.
Under Equipment Upgrade, a new item appeared in her inventory: the [Item Exchange Box].
Remarks: [Accepted Contents: Items and ingredients convertible into currency under the apocalyptic framework.]
Clicking on the details revealed a storage capacity, defaulting to ten cubic meters.
This meant items exchanged for City Coins wouldn’t simply vanish into thin air like before; they would remain at Ling Jing’s disposal.
She saw the bigger picture clearly.
To run a restaurant, one naturally needed to maximize profits.
The prerequisite, however, was that the customers had money in their pockets.
Running her stall for half a day had made it painfully obvious that the survivors in this apocalypse lived grueling, impoverished lives.
If people had no money, stimulating consumption would be entirely useless.
Finding a way to put spendable City Coins into her customers’ hands was the quickest way to drive up her revenue.
Having this upgrade branch for the cash box played right into her hands.
Being able to convert ingredients meant that the locals could scavenge all sorts of corrupted, raw produce and trade them to her for cash.
Her stall wasn’t terribly far from the abandoned farm, but going there herself still took time and effort.
Having others bring the ingredients directly to her door was the equivalent of outsourcing the labor—a win-win transaction.
She saved time to focus on managing the stall.
Meanwhile, strapped survivors could earn cash through her, only to spend it right back at her restaurant.
No matter how you looked at it… she came out on top.
Ingredients that were utterly worthless—or even hazardous—in this apocalyptic world held immense value to her.
And now…
To the people surviving this wasteland, that “garbage” had finally become valuable as well.
