Zane's eyes were closed as he relaxed on the recliner chair, waiting for the ramen to be ready. He was savoring the moment, his feet resting comfortably on the footstool.
Life is actually kind of nice. I could be working my ass off right now doing gigs or attending a boring class. Hehe. Can't believe I'm cooking ramen in another realm. I never expected my life to turn out like this.
Zane thought as he opened one of his eyes to look at the pot, which had a glass lid resting on the grill. Zane had spent 2 more Supreme coins to purchase the lid and coal—he'd soon realized he needed coal.
A sweet aroma of roasted meat assaulted Zane's nose, making him gulp a mouthful of saliva.
Beside the pot, a tall, lean gentlet wearing a fading blue robe was handling the meat of the dream eater. The gentlets had insisted that the meat was safe. Zane had let them do whatever they pleased—he only needed his ramen. He couldn't eat meat from some weird-looking creature.
Zane was now thinking differently due to the intoxicating aroma.
I call myself an art connoisseur. I should be appreciating every sort of art, including food. The gentlets have assured me it isn't poisonous—what could go wrong? Come on, Zane, you've been eating ramen since who knows when. When was the last time you ate meat?
His stomach was now groaning.
I swear, I could eat a horse and a half right now.
The vibrant Roman soldier was standing at the furthest edge away from Zane, appearing to be in deep thought.
The other three gentlets were dissecting the corpse of the dream eater, looking for something they called a dream core.
I should have brought tea.
Zane thought as he looked at his old watch. It reminded him of his father, making him long for home. It had been five minutes—in ten minutes, the ramen should be ready. It was 6 PM in the real world, though Zane didn't care about time there. He'd been away for about two months; Earth had probably forgotten about him.
Zane closed his eyes as his mind drifted to the time when he joined the Iron Crocs gang.
Zane had been pretty broke back then. The gigs he had couldn't provide enough money for his livelihood—he hadn't gotten the gym and bar employment yet.
Zane had just finished high school and was still trying to figure things out. His father had died the previous year, and he hadn't started attending college yet.
Poverty had struck him so hard that he contemplated joining a gang. After thinking for about a week, Zane finally decided to join a gang and earn some money. He'd heard from his classmate, who also wanted to join a gang, that he could earn decent money in one.
Zane had taken his leather coat, his father's old but sturdy boots, some gloves he'd found while relocating from his house to the apartment, and the Oni mask he'd found at Mrs. Betsy's yard while young.
I still don't know why I wore a mask back then. Maybe I thought it would intimidate and increase my chances of being accepted. Still, things turned out surprisingly nice then.
Zane still remembered entering the Iron Crocs den in southwestern Ashburn after walking for nearly two hours from Ironclad Street. He was tired and scared—he was in the territory of one of the two gangs that ruled Ashburn. He decided to join Iron Crocs because he found the Red Fang gang too posh.
He was wearing the mask then, and when he reached the den, he was surprised at how the intimidating gangsters were acting nice before him.
That day, Zane had reached the old dojo where Grizo—the gang boss—had set up his base. The dojo door had been opened for him respectfully the moment he arrived. A tough-looking gang member had politely escorted him personally to the boss.
"What are your demands?" Grizo had asked after offering him a seat. Zane, who expected to meet some high-rank gang member, not the boss, was scared and holding onto the small composure he was putting up. He didn't know how to answer the question, so he decided to say what he came there for.
"I want to be a gang lackey," Zane had replied. Simple and honest.
Now, come to think of it, he was actually surprised by my request back then. I didn't notice it then—after all, he thought I was the one who'd beaten his lackeys senseless to near death the previous day.
Back then, Zane hadn't spoken much more after Grizo agreed to his request. He'd gotten up and left the dojo, his heart beating rapidly. He couldn't believe he'd spoken to the monster Grizo so casually. Zane had even thought Grizo wasn't the intimidating figure he'd always heard about.
It was only when they started calling him the Masked Devil that Zane started understanding the misunderstanding. Zane didn't know who'd beaten the gangsters to near death, but then he'd earned the moniker 'Masked Devil.' Nobody messed with him, and Zane just let the name haunt him. He never removed the mask during his time as a gang lackey.
Zane was only a lackey in name—to Grizo, he was more of an associate.
He only had one task: to collect debts from hardcore debtors. His work, which could have been hard for anyone, turned easy for him. Whenever a debtor learned that the Masked Devil was coming to collect, they would go out of their way to look for money in any possible way. They didn't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Zane was surprised to discover how easy his job became.
Initially, he didn't know it was because of the rumored legend that was rising whenever he showed up wearing the mask for gang weekly missions. He would be sent to collect from especially notorious debtors—he never missed. Every time, he successfully collected. No one dared hide from him whenever he'd be sent; where could they escape to that the Masked Devil couldn't find them?
Now that I think about it, from the rumors, Grizo handled the situation well. He only ever sent me to debtors after he'd sent other gang members first to collect. He'd then warn the debtor about my coming. The debtor would then have no other choice.
If I knew I would be getting this system, I should have just squandered all the money and enjoyed life instead of saving for Dad's treatment. I don't regret it, though.
Zane thought as he imagined the stash he got paid weekly. He always deposited it in his savings account for his father's treatment. It wasn't much—last he checked, it was only about $60,000. This was far off from the presumably $2 million he needed for the operation.
Zane opened his eyes and looked at the watch. It was about time to check on the ramen. He grudgingly stood up and headed towards the grill, then opened the lid. It was hot, and he ended up dropping it on the ground.
He ignored it. A smile appeared on Zane's face as he looked at the ramen. He picked up a pair of chopsticks and pinched some noodles.
Just how I like it.
Zane thought as he looked at the robed gentlet who was turning a piece of what appeared to be the thigh of the dream eater.
Life is surely fun.
Zane thought as he ordered salt and handed it to the robed gentlet. He then summoned the Inventory Grimoire and placed the salt on a plate.
"Sprinkle this on the surface," Zane said as he handed it over, imitating the sprinkling action to show the gentlet how to do it.
The gentlet shook his head rigorously—he didn't utter a word. He started sprinkling the salt on the roasting meat.
Zane then ordered a kitchen glove and removed it from the Inventory Grimoire, wearing it directly.
Interesting.
Zane muttered subconsciously as he removed the pot and placed it directly on the ground.
The Roman soldier now approached him and bowed.
"Great ancestor, I would like to offer you this dream core. It might only be a tier-less core and not be of much worth to the ancestor, but I hope you will take it for your kindness."
Guilt now washed over Zane's features, though it wasn't noticeable. Zane only wanted to help the gentlets because he wanted them to take him to Eryndor—it was for selfish reasons, not out of kindness. He actually felt bad for these gentlets who revered him as an esteemed ancestor. He hadn't even promised to help them, yet they jumped to conclusions. He didn't know how to help them, and meanwhile, he was only thinking about his famished stomach.
The gentlet was holding a multicolored, pearly, rough crystal with both hands, offering it to Zane with respect.
Zane wasn't surprised anymore. He also didn't want to take their loot, but he wanted to check.
He picked the dream core from the gentlet's bowled palms to inspect it.
It was crystalline, nearly round, clear, and had different colors dancing in its glassy insides.
He then placed the core into the grimoire for appraisal. A panel appeared before him in response.
『Item Description』
✦Dream Core (Tier 0)
「A crystalline condensation of trapped dreams. Absorb it and you might learn of secrets only a dream weaver holds. This crystal only contains dreams forgotten and forsaken. A dreamer's feast abundant in essence.」
Zane understood what the system meant, at least a little bit. He somehow knew it was possible to be absorbed and gain information, though it wasn't like the skill orb. Zane didn't know how the dream orb could be absorbed, but he had his suspicions as someone with countless information from web novels.
He then removed it from the Inventory Grimoire and handed it back to the Roman soldier, pressing it into his multicolored crystalline palms.
"You can keep it—it's your reward for hunting the dream eater for days. I can't take it from you."
Zane had already learned the information he wanted; he didn't want to take the gentlet's loot. He didn't even know if he was going to help them. Zane was putting up a displeased face to make sure the gentlet didn't insist.
"Also, don't call me ancestor anymore—it has gotten boring. You can call me 'Mr. Ling.'"
Zane spoke in Gentish but mentioned 'Mr. Ling' in English. He'd always wanted to be called that at some point, though poor him never got any chance.
The gentlet immediately kneeled on one knee, like a knight kneeling to his queen.
"Sorry Misto... mi... Mr. li... ling. Sorry, Mr. Ling."
He finally got it. English and Gentish were extremely different languages—Zane was pleased the gentlet had gotten the hang of the name.
"Get up. I don't want you kneeling before me like some sort of king. Whenever you address me, do so like you do with your fellow gentlets. Also, tell me your names."
Zane said, making a gesture for him to stand up. The other gentlets were overly silent—they seemed to be enjoying the fuss their leader was going through. They were happier that they weren't the leader more at this time than any other.
"Sorry Mi... Mr. Ling for not telling you our names."
The Roman soldier stood up and pointed at himself.
"My name is Cozysprouts."
He then pointed at the robed gentlet roasting meat.
"He is Easyglow."
He then pointed to the one with modern clothing that was standing beside the well-dissected dream eater.
"That's Zest."
He then pointed to a gentlet that stood beside Zest. He wore animal skin covering his legs and chest—he looked more like a caveman, though he had a handsome face and crystalline hair tied in a ponytail. A bone was attached to the string tying the ponytail.
"He is Tramp."
He finally pointed to a gentlet that was staring at the dome with aloofness. He seemed to be thinking really hard. He wore clothes that looked straight out of a sci-fi movie—he had a black bodysuit that looked like it was made of some sort of hard plastic material. He wasn't looking at Zane from time to time like the others anymore. It was as if he'd studied Zane enough and found him not interesting anymore. He had a younger face than the rest and more vibrant colors than the others, excluding Cozysprouts. Zane could tell by his vibrant hands, though he couldn't see much since his body had been fully covered except for the hands and his blue head. He had long, flowing crystalline hair reaching shoulder length.
"That's Blendriad," Cozysprouts said with an air of finality.
Zane only needed to hear their names once, and they were all ingrained deeply in his mind. His new memory capability was shocking—he would have needed to hear the names twice or even more before gaining the system.
It was now time to eat. Zane noticed that Easyglow had stopped roasting the meat. It was now lined on the grid rack.
Zane summoned the Inventory Grimoire and placed the salt that was on one of the plates, then dismissed it.
He then used chopsticks to serve the ramen equally in all plates, grabbed the pot, and poured soup into the hollow wooden plates.
Good thing I made an adjustable grill.
Zane thought as he pulled a stand from the grid's belly, pulling it up to become a table-like structure. He then summoned the Inventory Grimoire while ordering water. Water was surprisingly cheap—it only cost 1 Supreme coin per million liters. Zane ordered only a liter, then removed the orb-like water and let it splatter on the grill, washing over the seething fire.
The heat was becoming overbearing for him as he stood beside the grill. He then ordered much simpler wooden chairs at 1 Supreme coin each and placed them around the grill for them to eat. Even Blendriad turned to look at Zane's actions this time. He only ordered five chairs.
"Come on, let's eat," Zane said loud enough for everyone to hear.
All five gentlets came and sat on the chairs around the grill where Zane had placed five ramen-filled plates.
I have to spread ramen's superb name to every realm.
Zane muttered subconsciously. Ramen had kept him alive for the past three years. Zane wondered why he'd never gotten bored of it, even after eating it nearly daily for straight-up three years.
"You can eat. What are you waiting for?"
Zane said as he looked questioningly at the gentlets who were watching him cluelessly.
All gentlets apart from Blendriad grabbed their chopsticks in a hurry, fumbling. Zane already knew they didn't know how to use chopsticks from how they held them. Zane was, however, surprised by how Blendriad picked up the chopsticks calmly and professionally. He then grasped them between his fingers like someone who'd used them countless times, then started eating the noodles slowly and calmly.
Zane had suspected Blendriad was different—his actions just then confirmed it. Zane wanted to ask questions, but he didn't. Questions could wait.
Zane summoned the Grimoire and ordered four impeccable wooden forks, then handed them to the gentlets.
"Use this instead," he said while handing them over. He then stood and watched as they also struggled to use them. Easyglow managed to use it and started eating—it wasn't proper but feasible. The other three watched him, then followed suit. Soon enough, they were all feasting, improving with every mouthful of the noodles.
Zane then moved to his zero-gravity recliner and adjusted it for eating. He pulled out a small table-like structure from its foot and rotated it until it lay at his stomach level. Zane had already thought of this when he created the chair—it was a multipurpose chair made for comfort, even when eating.
He then moved towards the grill and picked up the ramen-filled wooden plate, placing it on the recliner chair.
Zane sat down and started gulping the noodles at a moderate pace.
Can't believe I'd stayed two months without this. The Spring of Vitality should have just let me die.
Zane thought as he gulped even more of the ramen. After about ten minutes of ecstasy, Zane was done. His stomach was now at ease. He laid back on the recliner chair for a bit, then stood up.
I forgot about that succulent roasted meat.
Zane thought as he moved towards the grill, where the hot meat had just cooled. He took a big chunk of meat that looked more succulent than the rest.
He then looked at the gentlets sitting at the other edge of the grill. They had already finished eating and seemed to be waiting for him.
"Are you waiting for my instructions to come eat? Come on, you don't have to act like scared animals."
Zane said as he headed back and sat on the zero-gravity recliner. He didn't dig in first but rather watched what the gentlets would do.
Blendriad was the first to move. He stood and picked up a piece, then sat back. The others looked at Zane for a reaction—they thought it was a test from Zane. Seeing no reaction, they followed suit and picked up a piece each.
Zane then decided to take a bite of what was meat from a creature he'd just seen for the first time that very day.
Surprise washed over his features like cold water. He was shocked at how the meat tasted. Zane expected it to taste like meat—the only familiar taste was that of the salt. Nothing else tasted similar to meat whatsoever.
It tasted like various emotions and feelings erupting in his mouth. As Zane chewed on the meat, he could feel bitterness, joy, and even a hint of anger. There were so many emotions blended in the taste. The salt was the only thing telling him he was actually eating something.
As he gulped the portion, all emotions washed over his body. It was like the Spring of Vitality but not refreshing. Zane could feel various emotions flooding him before disappearing.
It was like a drug—it made Zane want to eat even more. He started digging in like a ferocious animal eating its prey. Soon enough, only a hand-sized bone was left.
Zane then looked towards the grill. He could see colors moving inside Cozysprouts' arms and neck from the uncovered parts of his Roman soldier attire.
Zane now understood why they called the beast a dream eater. Somehow, the beast fed on dreams in a manner unknown to Zane. Zane could tell by the remnant memories of fractured thoughts that came when the emotions burst in his stomach.
He also understood that the colorful, glowing bodies of gentlets contained memories that appeared as the colors in their bodies.
Zane headed to the grid and took another portion. The meat somehow disappeared in his stomach and didn't in any way feel like he'd eaten a big chunk of meat.
Meanwhile, on Earth, things were taking unexpected turns while Zane was in an unknown realm, enjoying a sumptuous meal. He felt calmer now than ever before.