Maluck adjusted his jacket, smoothed back his hair, and walked toward the host stand like he owned the entire damn restaurant.
He wasn’t just going to skip the line—he was going to do it with style.
[System Task Bonus Activated: Maximize Confidence. The More Arrogant, The Better.]
Oh, he could do that.
He had kept around $3,000 from his gambling stash, only depositing $5,500. That meant he had room to play.
And what was money if not a tool to bend the world to your will?
Maluck tapped the host stand with two fingers, like a man who had absolutely no time for nonsense.
The host, a guy who looked about nineteen and absolutely did not get paid enough for this, barely glanced up. “Uh, yeah? It’s an hour wait.”
Maluck chuckled. A low, knowing, cocky chuckle.
“Yeah, see, that’s not really gonna work for me.”
The host raised an eyebrow. “Uh… okay?”
Maluck leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was about to make a very important business deal.
“Why don’t you call your manager over? I’d like to… make an offer.”
The host looked confused but shrugged and disappeared to the back.
A minute later, a middle-aged guy in a dress shirt and an expression that said ‘I have had to deal with way too many entitled customers today’ walked out.
“Can I help you?” he asked, already sounding tired.
Maluck smiled, slow and deliberate, like a man who knew he was about to win.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crisp stack of hundreds, and placed it on the stand.
”$1,000. Right now. Just for the table. No waiting.”
The manager stared at the money, then at Maluck. Then back at the money.
Maluck tilted his head. “I assume you understand how numbers work. Four people. A thousand bucks. That’s two hundred and fifty per person for a table that’s literally just sitting there waiting for us.”
The manager rubbed his jaw, glancing at the packed restaurant. “It’s not that simple, we have a list—”
Maluck snorted. “A list? Right. Because Steve, Kareem, and Bob over there waiting in the corner are REALLY gonna tip your staff a grand, huh?”
The manager hesitated.
Maluck leaned in, voice dripping with confidence.
“Look, man, you can run your restaurant however you want. But you and I both know that money talks. And right now? My money is saying we should be sitting at a table instead of standing here talking about it.”
The manager exhaled sharply, then grabbed the stack and tucked it into his pocket.
“Right this way, sir.”
Maluck grinned as he turned back to his friends.
Greg looked stunned. “Did you just—?”
Tanya whistled low. “Damn, that was smooth.”
Lucas grinned. “I respect the hustle.”
[System Task Accomplished.]
Reward Based on Performance: +50 Luck Points, +0.02 Charisma.
Maluck sat down at his table like he belonged there.
Because he did.
***
Maluck leaned back in his chair, casually flipping through the menu, but really, he was bracing himself.
So far, he’d pulled off a legendary power move by skipping the line like a VIP, and he wanted to keep that momentum going.
The last thing he needed was the System throwing a task at him that would make him look like an idiot in front of his new BBQ squad.
Greg ordered first. “I’ll take the full rack of ribs with extra sauce.”
Tanya followed. “Brisket plate, mac and cheese, and cornbread.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Lucas grinned. “Burnt ends and sausage platter. And yeah, cornbread too.”
Maluck exhaled in relief. No System task.
Nice.
That meant he could just order normally and eat like a normal human being without—
[System Task Issued!]
Why should they get all the good stuff, especially when you’re the one paying? You deserve just as much as them.
Task: Order everything they did. The entire table’s worth of food.
[System Bonus] +10 LP
Maluck stared blankly at the glowing text in his vision.
“Oh, come on.”
Of course, the System had to butt in.
He was already throwing money around like a high roller—but now he had to order like an absolute glutton on top of it?
He could already see it happening.
If he backed out, he’d lose the chance to get those Luck Points, but if he actually followed through, he was going to look completely insane.
The waiter turned to him.
“And for you, sir?”
Maluck sighed internally but kept his face composed.
“I’ll have the same.”
The waiter nodded. “Oh, the brisket?”
“No. The same as the whole table.”
The waiter’s pen stopped mid-air.
Greg raised an eyebrow. “Wait… what?”
Tanya blinked. “Uh… dude, you just ordered a full rack of ribs, brisket, mac and cheese, cornbread, burnt ends, sausage platter, and, like, extra sides.”
Lucas grinned. “Respect.”
The waiter, a young guy who looked like he was still processing the fact that Maluck had tipped $1,000 just to skip the line, slowly wrote down ‘double order’ on his notepad. “Errr… okay…”
Maluck leaned back, feigning total confidence.
“If it’s worth eating, it’s worth eating twice.”
Greg laughed. “That… might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. But I respect it.”
Tanya shrugged. “Hey, as long as you don’t die halfway through, do your thing.”
Lucas grinned wider. “I mean, if you’re paying, who am I to judge?”
The waiter tore off the ticket and walked away, still looking mildly confused.
[System Task Accomplished!]
+10 Luck Points
+1 Lucky Spin
Maluck grinned to himself because nobody said he had to eat it all!
***
The food arrived in waves, carried out by waiters who looked more like logistics coordinators for a meat festival. Plates piled high with slow-smoked perfection were carefully placed in front of them, the scent of hickory, mesquite, and caramelized barbecue sauce hitting Maluck like a divine revelation.
His table? Now a shrine to excess.
The ribs came out glazed to perfection, the sauce thick and sticky, pooling slightly at the edges of the plate. The meat was so tender it was practically sliding off the bone just from existing. When Greg picked up the first rib and took a bite, he didn’t even have to pull—the meat just melted onto his tongue.
“Oh muh gawwd,” Greg groaned, holding up the rib like it had personally saved his life. “I can hear angels singing.”
Maluck grabbed his own rack and dug in. The sweet, smoky sauce clung to his fingers as he took his first bite. The mix of fat, spice, and slow-cooked perfection hit his taste buds like a choir of pitmasters high-fiving each other in celebration.
Next up was the brisket.
A thick slab of beef, smoke-ringed, with juices pooling at the edges. Tanya sliced into hers with a plastic knife that didn’t even struggle—that’s how tender it was.
“This… this is what happiness tastes like,” she whispered, placing the first bite on her tongue and visibly ascending into another plane of existence.
Maluck followed suit, letting the brisket rest on his taste buds for a moment before biting down. It was like the meat had given up all structural integrity for the sake of pure flavor. The combination of crispy bark, smoky depth, and buttery texture was borderline illegal.
Then came the burnt ends and sausage platter.
Lucas speared a burnt end with his fork, holding it up for admiration. “Look at that caramelization. That is ART.”
He popped it into his mouth and let out a low, appreciative growl.
Maluck tried one, and immediately understood. Crispy, smoky, fatty goodness that somehow had the chew of a steak but the flavor explosion of a barbecue dream.
The sausage had a deep red snap to it, and the spices kicked in just enough to wake up his senses without overwhelming the beautiful smokiness.
The mac and cheese? A golden, creamy, gooey masterpiece, baked to perfection with a crispy breadcrumb crust on top. Tanya took a forkful and practically moaned.
“If I die right now, tell my family I went out happy,” she said dramatically.
Maluck grabbed a scoop, and yeah—this was dangerous. Thick, melty cheese stretched between bites, perfectly seasoned, with a buttery richness that coated his mouth in pure, unfiltered comfort.
Then came the cornbread.
It wasn’t just cornbread. It was THE cornbread.
Golden-brown, with a crispy edge but a soft, fluffy inside, served with a pat of honey butter that melted instantly as soon as it hit the warm surface. Lucas broke a piece off and watched the butter pool into the bread like liquid gold.
Maluck bit into his, and the balance of sweet, savory, and buttery richness sent a shiver down his spine.
“This is unfair,” he muttered between bites. “How is food allowed to be this good?”
Greg, already halfway through his plate, grinned through a mouthful of ribs. “Because Calgary, my friend. Alberta does barbecue right.”
Maluck couldn’t argue with that.
But then he looked down.
There was still so much left.
His ambitious System Task had doubled his order, and while every bite was a masterpiece, he was starting to feel the effects.
He had already gotten the Luck points, so he didn’t actually have to finish right?
That’s when a new [System Task] popped into his vision
***
I wrote it as someone who loves regressor novels, but I hadn’t found anything that really focused on the regression itself if somebody knew portals were coming.
Like, how could he spread the knowledge of the portals without seeming like a total nutcase and getting locked in a padded room?
How would he improve himself to become better? How could he prepare?
Set in modern times in book one, Atlas has a goal of forming a kick-ass team to help him in the wasteland when it opens.
Currently there are 4 books on KU with book 5 in editing.
Kindle link
