Night had settled over Crescent Moon Inn. The fire in the kitchen flickered gently, casting warm shadows across the wooden floor. Customers had long gone, leaving behind the faint smell of stew, smoke, and laughter.
Ethan sat alone near the stove, turning a small shard of crystal over in his fingers—the Rival System Fragment he'd won from Ronan. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
He didn't know what to do with it yet. The System hadn't explained anything new, and for once, it was silent.
He stared into the flames. Their orange glow pulled him backward in time, into memories he hadn't let himself revisit for years.
The System had given him power, but it hadn't erased the past.
---
Before he woke up in this strange world, Ethan had been a chef on Earth. Not just any chef—he was one of the youngest to earn a Michelin star at twenty-five. The newspapers called him a prodigy, a genius in the kitchen.
He lived for cooking. For the sizzle of oil, the fragrance of herbs, the rhythm of a knife against the board. He believed that food could tell stories, heal hearts, connect people.
And then came the night that changed everything.
It was supposed to be the grand opening of his own restaurant, Emberline. Months of planning, investors, critics—all waiting for him to prove that he could stand on his own.
But perfection has a price.
That night, a faulty gas line turned the dream into an inferno.
He remembered the explosion—the way the walls seemed to collapse in slow motion, the smell of smoke and burning wood, the screams of staff members. He'd dragged one of them out before the ceiling came down. The fire burned half the kitchen and nearly took his life.
When he woke up in the hospital, his hands were covered in bandages. The doctors said he might never cook again.
He laughed at first. He thought they were exaggerating. But when he tried to hold a knife a few weeks later, his hands trembled uncontrollably. The pain was unbearable.
The restaurant was gone. So were his investors, his friends, his dream.
He'd sat in silence for weeks, staring at the scarred skin on his palms. The world moved on without him. The culinary world forgot his name as quickly as it had praised it.
And so, when that glowing light swallowed him one night while he was walking alone—when he opened his eyes to find himself in another world with a System whispering in his ear—it didn't feel like a punishment. It felt like a second chance.
But old wounds don't fade just because the world changes.
---
Ethan rubbed his hands absently now, staring at the faint scars still visible even here. They didn't hurt anymore, but sometimes when he cooked, his palms felt warm, like the memory of fire was still there.
He looked up at the stove. The flames danced oddly tonight—brighter, more alive.
He stood and approached. "You're acting strange again," he muttered.
The flames flared once, almost as if responding.
He frowned and crouched down, peering into the stove. Beneath the grate, he noticed faint markings—circles and runes etched into the metal. They pulsed with the same rhythm as the Rival System Fragment in his hand.
"Wait a second…"
He held the shard closer. The moment it neared the stove, the flame burst upward, changing from orange to deep blue. Sparks scattered through the air like tiny stars.
The System's voice finally returned.
[Hidden Feature Detected: Heart of the Infernal Stove.]
[Status: Dormant.]
[Energy Source Required: Essence of Heat (Unidentified).]
Ethan blinked. "So the stove itself… is alive?"
He touched the metal gently. It was warm, but not dangerously so. The runes pulsed under his fingertips like a heartbeat.
Another notification appeared.
[Origin Traces Detected: Binding Contract Between Chef and Flame (Incomplete).]
[Warning: Essence instability detected.]
He stood slowly, realization dawning on him. The Essence of Heat wasn't an ingredient at all. It was connected to him. Or more precisely—to the fire that once destroyed him.
His thoughts spiraled back to the night of the explosion, the same blue flame that had danced across the wreckage before everything went black. It hadn't been natural, he remembered that clearly now. It burned without consuming, just like this one.
"Don't tell me…" he whispered. "Did that same flame… follow me here?"
The stove flickered in response, a faint hum echoing in the room.
He stepped back, unsure whether to feel fear or gratitude.
The System pinged again.
[Quest Unlocked: Reignite the Heart of the Infernal Stove.]
[Objective: Fuse the Essence of Heat and awaken the stove's true power.]
[Reward: Fire Spirit Contract (Tier Unknown).]
Ethan exhaled slowly. "So that's the next step, huh? Figures."
He closed the panel and leaned against the counter, rubbing his temple. Every time he thought he was getting comfortable, the System threw another mystery his way.
But deep down, he wasn't angry. If anything, a quiet excitement stirred in his chest. The flames that once ruined his life might now become his greatest strength.
He chuckled softly. "Maybe this world's got a sense of humor after all."
---
The door creaked open, and Luna—the young adventurer who'd been helping clean tables for a few coins—peeked inside. She had a mop in hand and a curious expression.
"Chef Ethan? You're still awake?"
"Yeah," he said, straightening. "Just… thinking."
She tilted her head. "You were staring at the stove again. It's kind of creepy when it glows like that."
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. It's got some secrets. Don't worry, I'll figure it out."
She nodded, though her eyes stayed fixed on the faint blue light flickering inside the stove. "You're weird, you know that?"
"Most good chefs are."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Goodnight then, weird chef."
"Night, Luna."
When she left, silence returned. Ethan turned back to the fire, which now burned softly, almost peacefully. He could feel it—some kind of connection forming, thin as a thread, between him and the stove.
"Essence of Heat," he murmured. "Guess I'll have to find out what you really are."
Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the shutters. Somewhere in the darkness beyond the inn, a faint glow pulsed deep within the forest—blue and alive, just like the flame in his kitchen.
The night carried a whisper that only the fire seemed to understand.
And for the first time in years, Ethan wasn't running from his past. He was walking toward it.
To be continued...