Maybe it was all a dream, and now he’d finally woken up. That fleeting hope crossed Eddie’s mind as he turned around.
But behind him were still the stairs that led back up to the basement of Eddie’s Inn.
He turned to the front again. And there it was—undeniably the same convenience store he had been in right before transmigrating.
“…Hah.”
The ramen aisle was packed with not a single item out of place, alongside the shelves of triangle kimbap, gimbap, sandwiches, and rows of neatly sorted lunch boxes, chips, jellies, and hangover remedies…
Thanks to his naturally tidy personality, the layout matched exactly how he had always maintained his store.
There was even a microwave—despite there clearly being no electricity. Like he was hypnotized, Eddie walked over and pressed the Start button.
Whirr—it lit up with a hum, auto-setting to 30 seconds and spinning to life.
An orange light flickered clearly inside the microwave.
Wait… there’s no electricity in this world. So how the hell is this thing running?
Baffled, Eddie rushed to look behind the microwave—but there wasn’t even a power cord.
“Hooohh…”
Eddie moved on and checked the coffee machine. A large iced americano—something he never thought he’d drink again. He tore open the sealed ice cup, set it down, and pressed the button. A familiar whirring started up, and the scent of coffee floated gently into his nose.
Naturally, there were no cords here either. And no need to restock water or beans.
Triangle kimbap and other perishables didn’t even have expiration stickers. Actually—nothing did.
When he took a triangle kimbap from the shelf, a new one instantly appeared in its place. Same with the ramen and snacks. Everything was replenished like clockwork—as if the whole store was an automated factory.
“…Hooooohh…”
Eddie couldn’t get a grip on himself for a while. All he could do was let out a stream of stunned exhalations like “hooohh,” as if there were no other words left in the world.
A convenience store that didn’t need restocking or inventory control. And from the looks of it, all of it was… free?
Who gets a cheat like this?
“Aah.”
After a moment, a massive realization hit Eddie like lightning.
This was it. This was his transmigrator benefit. Just a few days ago, he’d been grumbling about how this was a worthless possession with no perks. That suddenly felt like a distant memory from a past life.
He remembered, around day two of his possession, secretly mumbling to himself: “…Status window.” Of course, in the traditional fantasy setting of The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power, there was no such thing.
But this—this was way, way better than some status screen.
No—this was perfect.
In his old life, his store had just been one of the many identical convenience stores littering the city—four in a single apartment complex. But in this world? This was the only one.
“Aha!”
Another lightbulb went off in Eddie’s head.
All that time he’d spent the past week agonizing over that pathetic menu had been completely pointless.
Why bother trying to reinvent modern corporate food to suit this world’s tastes?
All you had to do was boil water or use a microwave!
“Khff!”
Eddie clamped a hand over his mouth.
Was it shock? Or the sudden comfort of seeing something so familiar?
Nope.
It was because he couldn’t stop the grin threatening to split his face. Even though no one was watching, he could feel a bright, capitalist-fueled smile creeping up unbidden.
“…Jackpot.”
It felt like a jackpot.
Suddenly, Eddie rushed to the ramen aisle. Modern convenience stores constantly cycled in new limited-edition items, and there were now countless variations compared to the past.
Sure, there were long-standing classics that kept their popularity unchanged over time, but there were always new rising stars.
Like this one—his favorite go-to ramen on high-stress days. He’d always added cheese to it and savored every bite.
Eddie grinned wickedly as he spotted it—the infamous ramen with the fire-breathing cartoon chicken on the packaging.
* * *
Eddie’s first step was to create a new, enlarged menu board. He started by listing the existing pitiful items: French fries, fried fish, fruit platter.
Under that, he proudly added:
[New! Fire Chicken Noodles]
And next to that, he listed the only drink the inn offered: draft beer. Even though his convenience store was stocked with a wide range of alcohol, he decided not to add those to the menu right away.
“Ah.”
But then, like he remembered something, Eddie added one more item beneath the beer—Banana Milk. If Fire Chicken Noodles were going to sell well, it would be essential.
Looking at the menu, now a little less pathetic, Eddie smiled in satisfaction. It was still sparse for a place calling itself a tavern and restaurant, but it was a start.
His magical convenience store offered far more than this, of course. But going too hard with new items from the beginning was a fast way to backfire.
Everything would be unfamiliar to the people of the Reneba Empire.
So why start with Fire Chicken Noodles of all things?
Because first impressions matter. Especially when you’re running a place that had absolutely no expectations for its food, word of mouth was everything.
And in that regard, Fire Chicken Noodles lacked nothing. They had flavor, impact, novelty—they were a conversation starter.
Running a business was like a marathon—it took consistency. But unlike a marathon, the start was also critical. Standing at the starting line of his new life, Eddie had chosen this menu item after a careful, calculated decision.
“Khk—Mr. Eddie, what is this?”
The day they first cooked Fire Chicken Noodles, Gerold had nearly choked from the spicy aroma the moment the sauce packet was opened.
“This, my friend, is the first shot of our inn’s grand reopening.”
“…What?”
“Just—trust me.”
It was hard to explain. Gerold couldn’t even perceive the existence of the convenience store. He still firmly believed that there was just an unopened basement down there.
Eddie brushed the explanation off, and as always, the loyal Gerold nodded obediently without asking further questions.
Good guy.
He was even taller and more muscular than Eddie, who was already pretty well-built—but he acted so obedient and kind it was honestly kind of adorable.
Eddie resisted the urge to pat his head and watched as the Fire Chicken Noodles finished cooking.
The first bite of Fire Chicken Noodles in a long time blew all his stress away. The body he now inhabited seemed to have less spice tolerance than his old one, so it felt even hotter—but that just made it a test of willpower.
“Khk—Mr. Eddie, this is way too spicy!”
Gerold, who had taken a bite out of curiosity, was instantly flushed bright red.
“Drink this.”
Eddie handed him a banana milk he’d prepped earlier. Without question, Gerold grabbed it and gulped it down. And then—his eyes widened.
“Mr. Eddie, this is…!”
“Delicious, right?”
Still fanning his tongue, Gerold nodded furiously. There’s a reason some things last forever. Even though he didn’t make it himself, Eddie felt a surge of pride and shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m putting a fridge by the entrance. Give one of these to every customer who comes in.”
Banana milk wasn’t listed on the menu. But from now on, every guest at Eddie’s Inn would get one for free.
A classic loss leader.
And for Eddie, with unlimited stock, it wasn’t really a loss. Everything was free anyway.
If he still failed with this setup… he really had no business running a business.
Eddie clapped his hands.
“Let’s get started.”
A new beginning for Eddie’s Inn.
* * *
Of course, not everything went smoothly at first. After all, Eddie’s Inn barely had any regular customers to begin with.
He needed people to start spreading the word—but most of the guests were travelers looking for a place to sleep, not restaurant patrons. No one even looked at the menu.
The few who did show up just ordered out of habit—fries, fried fish, beer.
He couldn’t exactly force new items on them, so Eddie waited patiently for a chance to introduce the Fire Chicken Noodles.
In the meantime, the free banana milk policy was active. Guests accepted it with uncertain faces, drinking it more out of confusion than enthusiasm.
Most of them were from faraway provinces, travelers with no ties to the empire’s capital—so the odds of repeat visits were slim. Sometimes Eddie wondered if it was worth it.
But hey, you can’t expect to be full from the first bite.
And finally, his chance arrived.
“Boss! Three beers and some kind of bar snack—anything!”
Week two of Eddie’s possession. Around day seven of his actual business efforts, someone finally took the bait.
“To Hero Arthur! To Mage Boram! To Augustine of the Holy Power! And to His Majesty the Emperor!”
They clinked their beer mugs with boisterous chants. Watching them, Eddie smiled serenely on the outside.
“Gerold, one Fire Chicken Noodles.”
It was a devil’s smile.