Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll

On the night he decided to adopt Skye, Feeney returned to his room and immediately drew his second skill, but the result was somewhat disappointing.

Compared to the "Golden Great Deduction Technique," the second skill was worlds apart, and this made Feeney realize that this system really could draw anything as a skill.

"Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll"

"Source: Food Wars"

"Description: Food that makes you feel as if you've been drugged with delight."

When Feeney saw the skill he'd drawn, he almost thought he'd misread it. He never expected to pull a fried chicken roll, and it gave him a full taste of life's highs and lows.

It took a lot of effort for Feeney to suppress the urge to uninstall this crappy system, though he had no idea how to do that anyway.

After secretly testing it out, he found that this skill wasn't as useless as he'd imagined.

"Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll" was different from the "Golden Great Deduction Technique." Once drawn, it could be used immediately, and it had two release methods.

One was to buy ingredients and make it step by step in the kitchen.

The other was to summon it out of thin air. That's right—no raw materials needed, no kitchen tools required. Just use the skill, and within a one-meter radius around him, anywhere he could see, he could conjure it instantly, complete with packaging.

At that moment, Feeney's first thought about this skill was that if he ever ran into some unexpected trouble, at least he wouldn't have to worry about going hungry.

At the same time, whether he made the Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll himself or summoned it, he noticed that his Experience Bar, which had been drained again, actually increased by a tiny sliver—barely visible to the naked eye, but at least a bit faster than natural growth. This confirmed for him that the system's draw experience gauge was tied to skill usage.

Although the experience gained from each "Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll" was pitifully small, it still made Feeney happy. At least it gave him a glimmer of hope for progress.

In the days that followed, Feeney spent almost every day studying these two skills. He tried hard to recall the scene from the night he summoned Skye, hoping to use the "Golden Great Deduction Technique" again.

From "Loki has no little dickie" to "Hulk has a good temper," Feeney gradually lowered the scope of what he could achieve, until he stared at a single strand of hair, willing it to float. After nearly a minute of concentration, he finally succeeded in using the "Golden Great Deduction Technique" again.

Though the power was terrifyingly weak, Feeney was so happy he almost jumped for joy. Compared to seven whole years of nothing happening, this was a massive improvement.

And now he had a direction: use skills, gain experience, and draw again.

After several tests, he also discovered a few key points for using the "Golden Great Deduction Technique." First, the mind had to be pure, free of too many distracting thoughts. Second, speech helped increase the success rate, because words could solidify the thoughts in one's mind, making the command clearer.

For example, when he tried to make a strand of hair float just by thinking about it, it took nearly a minute. But if he used a "command," it only took three seconds to make it levitate.

Unfortunately, the experience gained from using the "Golden Great Deduction Technique" wasn't that much either. In fact, floating hair gave even less experience than making fried chicken rolls.

This made him wonder why summoning Skye had given him so much experience. By his calculations, it was equivalent to about five years of natural growth.

Even though the Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll gave more experience, Feeney didn't dare use it recklessly. Buying ingredients and making it was fine, but summoning large quantities out of thin air meant he couldn't eat it all, and throwing it away would easily draw attention. If S.H.I.E.L.D. found out, that wouldn't be a joke.

There was also the issue of skill consumption and progress. Feeney noticed that using the "Golden Great Deduction Technique" too much left him dizzy and lightheaded, but using "Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll" had almost no cost, and its progress was fast.

When he first got "Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll," Feeney needed about ten seconds to use the skill, and he could only make one at a time.

Now, eight years later, he had reduced the creation time to one second, expanded the range to five meters, and could make two at once. He was confident that no one in any world could make fried chicken rolls faster than him.

If he worked eight hours a day without stopping, Feeney could make over fifty thousand fried chicken rolls.

Laws of physics, conservation of mass, scientific principles—Feeney's "Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll" was pure magic.

Eight whole years had passed, and Feeney still hadn't fully filled the Experience Bar for his third draw. It wasn't that he hadn't tried hard enough, but the experience gained from "Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll" was just too little.

He couldn't just find a random place to make them endlessly, so this was the result. Still, after all this time, the Experience Bar was almost full. It wouldn't be long before he could get his third skill.

But this also showed just how much experience the first successful use of the "Golden Great Deduction Technique" had generated.

Feeney decided that if the third skill was also useless in combat, he would have to find a way to improve his strength using the existing resources of the Marvel Universe.

Snapping back to the present, Feeney looked at Skye, who was silent in front of him, and sighed. "Let's go to the shop first. I'll explain what just happened when we get there."

Affected by the earlier topic, Skye didn't say much and started the car.

The shop Feeney mentioned was a small eatery he helped Skye open after she graduated high school two years ago.

The shop wasn't big, but it was located in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where land was worth its weight in gold. Even if it was a bit out of the way, it was still a rare find.

Arriving in Manhattan, with its towering skyscrapers and Dazzling Array of goods, Feeney's first sight through the car window was that iconic building—Stark Tower. It was a constant reminder of what kind of world he was in.

One more year. In one year, that still somewhat flashy Playboy would usher in a new era.

At the shop, Feeney looked at the sign on the door that read "Irregular Hours" and gave Skye, who was putting on an innocent face, a helpless glance before taking it down.

"Hey, Feeney, Skye, you're finally here."

"We've been waiting forever! Hurry up and open the door!"

As soon as they arrived, a group of people appeared out of nowhere, greeting them excitedly before rushing to the shop door and lining up on their own, waiting for it to open.

"Feeney, you're half an hour late today." The Man closest to the door watched Feeney unlock it and immediately complained impatiently.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Doko. There was a bit of business at school today."

Feeney smiled and greeted him. Even though it was called a small eatery, they mainly sold one thing—the very Sumire's Fried Chicken Roll he'd been making for eight years.

"Alright, alright, stop chatting. I'm starving."

Another person in line, annoyed by Feeney's slow pace, called out impatiently, then added expectantly, "Feeney, if you ask me, you should just drop out of school. We'll invest in you, and you can turn this fried chicken roll into a chain. It'll be a hit all over America."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll definitely invest in you."

The crowd chimed in, eager to throw money at him. Skye, standing to the side, silently rolled her eyes. She was used to this by now, but she had to admit that Feeney's fried chicken rolls were the best food she'd ever eaten.

"Alright, alright. I've said it before—this is just a hobby. I have dreams."

Feeney shook his head helplessly and went inside to start setting up. Though the shop had irregular hours, he still came almost every weekend to practice his skills, and as a result, he'd gained a loyal group of regular customers.

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