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Running A Food Stall In A Horror Game Novel Cover

Running A Food Stall In A Horror Game

Trapped within a lethal horror game, a protagonist survives not with weapons, but by managing a food stall in a town of monsters. When a ghoul attempts to devour her, she pacifies the beast with a focaccia sandwich, delaying her demise for a meal. By serving pierogies and skewers, she turns potential killers into loyal customers. This LitRPG adventure follows her unlikely survival as a shocked audience watches her cook her way to the end of the game.
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Chapter 2

“Sure thing.”

Sensing something amiss, I quickly lowered my gaze. By avoiding eye contact with the youth, I managed to keep my expression neutral.

Little did I know that when this youth showed up, the comment section for the livestream blew up with activity.

[That’s a mini boss, Jorvan Beeker! He loves breaking open players’ skulls!]

[Based on the statistics, he has a kill rate of 99%! This newbie is dying for sure.]

[Keep holding on, Lin! You can do it, Lin!]

I was too busy to read any of these comments. I simply straightened my apron and did my job as Jorvan watched.

I cut a piece of fresh focaccia and started piling various ingredients on it: Lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and prosciutto.

Jorvan seemed content to wait. Like any other customer, he was partaking in the town’s gossip.

“Hey, Ms. Graves, did you hear about what happened last night?”

“I turned in early last night. What happened?”

To maintain my cover as just another of the game’s characters, I did my best to respond to him.

“Old Man Hurley from the edge of town got drunk on moonshine and got caught yapping about some stuff he shouldn’t have. Guess what happened? His wife chopped him up in the middle of the night!”

Jorvan excitedly described the gruesome scene and watched me closely for my reaction.

Based on what he was saying, I guessed that “Old Man Hurley” had failed in maintaining his cover as a character and was brutally murdered by the ghouls.

As expected, when I momentarily froze in my movements, Jorvan excitedly raised his hammer and aimed it at the back of my skull.

“Why have you stopped working, Ms. Graves?”

“Your focaccia sandwich is done.”

Jorvan was speechless.

Expressionlessly, I put my knife away and put the sandwich in a paper bag after adding a dash of olive oil to the whole ensemble.

Jorvan halted his attack and looked at the warm focaccia sandwich. His expression was a bit bewildered, and he looked as if he wanted to ask, “Is this it?”

He was quickly distracted by that same focaccia sandwich.

The bread was a warm golden brown. The sandwich was crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. The prosciutto was thinly sliced and glistened with the olive oil drizzled on it.

Altogether, the focaccia sandwich looked freshly cooked and delicious.

Jorvan’s initially rampant killing intent dissipated. I relaxed for a moment. I thought that I was going to muddle through this.

After a moment, Jorvan took out an infernal bill from his pocket.

However, the money was covered in sticky blood. When it touched my skin, I went and got a rag to wipe it off.

In the next second, I froze in place and dared not move.

Oh no.

In such horror games, only players could see blood. They could also see the actual undead nature of the ghouls.

Jorvan’s lips curled into a wicked smile, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth as he stared at me.

“Who are you? Where did the original owner of this food stall go?”

Jorvan came closer and closer, and his sharp teeth were so close that I could almost feel them against my cheek.

I was so terrified that my limbs went weak. With a twitch of my hand, I grabbed the sandwich from his grasp and shoved it into his mouth.

Jorvan subconsciously bit down, and the flavors burst in his mouth. They were rich and explosive.

In an instant, his expression went lax. The hammer, which had been about an inch away from the back of my head, halted mid-swing.

In reality, Jorvan felt as if his world had been rocked to its core.

Why was the focaccia sandwich so extravagantly delicious? It was as if it was real. It was so crunchy and savory…

But it was impossible!

The NPC ghouls in horror games were wandering spirits of the dead. Since they were already dead, anything they experienced in the supernatural world of the game was false as well.

His sense of smell, of taste, of touch had long been defunct.

It was impossible for the food to taste of anything in a ghoul’s mouth.

Since Jorvan had paused, I got on my tiptoes uneasily, still holding onto the focaccia sandwich. I was terrified that my skull was going to be smashed in at any point.

However, Jorvan continued taking huge bites out of his focaccia sandwich.

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