Chapter 19: The Business Expands
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Chapter 19: The Business Expands
The morning had barely begun, yet the line of customers stretched beyond the neighboring block. Some held signs that read **"Order from MaxTable"**, while others snapped photos in front of the restaurant that had quickly become the talk of the city.
Inside the kitchen, pressure cookers filled the space with fragrant steam, as the aroma of expertly seasoned and slow-cooked chicken spread into the dining area. The layout was deliberate; a glass wall separated the kitchen from the main hall, allowing customers to observe Max at work—without stepping into the prep zone.
Max, dressed in his sleek black uniform, moved between pressure pots with practiced care. A gentle adjustment here, a spice correction there—he lifted the lid of a simmering pot of soup, tasted it, and gave a subtle nod of satisfaction.
Suddenly, a tall man in a formal suit and a dark red tie entered, followed by a young assistant carrying a compact electronic device. A murmur swept through the crowd, and uneasy glances were exchanged.
The man stepped up to the order window and held out his badge:
> "Logan Price. Central Health Inspection Bureau."
Max calmly stepped forward, meeting the inspector's gaze.
"Please, you're welcome to inspect. Everything is open."
Logan and his assistant began their routine. They inspected surfaces, measured temperatures, took water samples, and even scanned the kitchen air quality.
Throughout it all, Max continued his work with quiet confidence—unfazed, composed—which caught the assistant's attention.
The young man whispered:
> "Honestly… this place is cleaner than some five-star restaurants in the capital."
Logan didn't respond immediately. He completed his rounds, then walked back outside to the anxious customers.
He pulled out a clipboard and raised it visibly:
> "MaxTable is awarded the *Superior Hygiene Certification*—our highest rating."
Applause broke out instantly. One customer shouted:
> "That's our Max! Great food and spotless too!"
Max offered a modest smile and returned to his station. But just then, he noticed a man lingering at the back of the crowd, watching intently. The man wore a plain jacket, but his expression was anything but casual.
Kayla leaned in and handed Max a grilled cheese plate, whispering:
> "That's not a regular. He owns *Charlie's Grill* down the block... and he doesn't look too thrilled."
Max instantly understood—success draws not only customers... but rivals as well.
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As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the flow of customers gradually slowed. But Max noticed a pattern—everyone who walked in asked the same thing:
> "Got any chicken left?"
Unfortunately, they didn't.
Max stood by the prep window, wiping his forehead. He glanced at Kayla, who was stacking clean cookware, and said with a smirk:
> "Should've just branded this place *MaxChicken* and saved everyone the guesswork."
Kayla laughed as she returned one of the pressure pots to its shelf.
> "At this rate, your recipe's going in the culinary history books—or at least the cash register records."
Max summoned the familiar system screen in his mind. A transparent display shimmered briefly in front of him, invisible to everyone else:
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**Divine Chef System – Stage One**
Points Earned Today: 2963
Current Total Points: 6055
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**Spin Wheel Access**
Level 1: Unlocked
Level 2: Unlocked
Level 3: Insufficient Points
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He closed the display and took a deep breath.
> "Looks like chicken's the star of the show now. Time to reorder—fast."
He headed to the supply console in the back and placed the new order:
* 350 fresh chickens
* Delivery Time: Tomorrow, 4:30 AM sharp
Same time as always. The routine stayed the same—but the scale was growing rapidly.
He scratched his chin and muttered:
> "Now this... this is starting to feel like real progress."
Kayla walked in holding a small tray of leftover croissants. She offered him one with a grin.
> "Consider this your end-of-day reward. And if you catch me making chicken soup tomorrow, don't be surprised."
Max chuckled.
> "Just make sure it lands after four-thirty. I'm not in the mood to explain the difference between broth and wings to a hungry crowd."
They both laughed, and the restaurant gradually fell quiet. But inside Max's mind… the plans were only just beginning.
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