My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 1: That’s Just The Way It Is

"Waiter!" A lady slathered in atrocious cosmetics shouted loudly.

This outburst made the nearby patrons scowl intensely, though they decided against speaking up, opting instead to carry on with their dinners.

"Here we go once more," whispered one diner, scooping up a bite of his dish and glancing sideways at the lady with clear recognition.

In the following instant, a youth clad in the restaurant's attire hurried over to the lady's table.

"Ma'am, you summoned me. What can I do for you?" He inquired courteously, forcing the most welcoming grin he could manage.

"Yes," the lady affirmed with a nod, shooting the youth a venomous stare, "You can assist by fetching your manager!"

"Apologies, Ma'am, but the manager is not present. If there's an issue, kindly share it with me, and we'll record it properly," the youth replied, offering a brief and courteous bow.

"So your manager's not here, is he?" The lady questioned.

The youth responded with a polite inclination of his head.

Observing the lady closely, he caught a subtle sneer crossing her features right after his nod.

"Ah, so that's why employees like you can prepare something so awful and hazardous to health, then dish it out to your valued patrons? Do you have no regard for other people's lives? For those who visit to spend their hard-earned cash? You truly don't give a damn about them, do you?" The lady demanded, her tone rising sharply.

Anyone with half a brain could see her scheme.

The youth, hit with the barrage of queries, offered yet another courteous nod.

"I'm truly sorry if our service didn't meet your expectations, Ma'am. If you wouldn't mind, could you specify the issue so we can address it? At Royal Gray, our top priority is delivering a delightful dining adventure via our offerings," he explained.

"Delightful adventure, my foot," the lady roared, pounding her fists on the table, "I'm warning you, the dishes you prepare here threaten human well-being. And you're yapping about delightful experiences. What's delightful in that? Is footing medical costs some kind of thrill?"

The youth's eyes flickered at her words. He gripped his fist hard, then released it swiftly.

It was obvious he teetered on the edge of snapping, striving desperately to hold back.

"Ma'am, precisely what is the matter?" He pressed, his voice steady and resolute.

"The matter, you say. The matter is your food harbors toxic elements. That's the issue," the lady declared.

Frustration made the youth bite his lip upon hearing this. He sneered inwardly while eyeing the stack of cleared plates on the table.

Unable to curb his inquisitiveness, the youth inquired, "Ma'am, you claim the food is detrimental, yet you devoured it all. Why?"

The lady froze briefly, evidently thrown by the query. She hadn't anticipated this seemingly fragile boy to muster the guts for such a daring retort.

But who was she? A seasoned extortionist of eateries like this for quite some time. No chance she'd let a mere boy outwit her.

In a flash, she erupted in fury and leaped from her chair. Her bulky frame toppled the table as she rose, sending the plates crashing to the ground, where they splintered into shards.

"What did you just imply, you brat? I challenge you to say it again!" She snarled right in the youth's face.

Her move was pure bullying, but against her hopes, the youth didn't bow his head.

On the contrary, he lifted it and met her gaze with a piercing, icy stare.

This momentarily rattled the lady, fueling her rage further. She lifted her palm to strike the youth's cheek, but abruptly, another grip halted her arm mid-air.

"That's sufficient, Ma'am. I'm the manager here. Let's head to my office and discuss this," stated the owner of that restraining hand, a man in his middle years.

Spotting the restaurant's manager, the lady realized her performance needed wrapping up. Still, she refused to yield entirely.

"Alright. But first, dismiss this insolent whelp right away. Otherwise, I walk out now. And if I go, I'll rally my contacts to flood you with bad reviews," she warned, her voice icy and menacing.

Noting the lady's unyielding stance, the middle-aged man chose to comply with her demand.

He faced the youth and announced sternly, "You're dismissed. Leave the uniform behind when you exit. You'll receive all due compensation. No need to fret over that."

The youth stayed silent at the pronouncement. He merely nodded and retreated toward the kitchen.

At the same time, a wicked grin spread across the lady's features.

"Wise choice," she remarked, her satisfaction evident on her countenance.

The middle-aged man inclined his head.

"Kindly come with me," he instructed, guiding the lady toward his office.

***

The newly dismissed youth exited via the restaurant's rear entrance.

He checked the hour on his phone and let out a sigh. Turning, he began strolling leisurely along the road, appearing distant as he made his way back home.

The youth's mind swirled with profound musings on existence and its purpose.

He ignored thoughts of the position he'd just lost, having foreseen the outcome.

His now-ex-boss had long sought a solid pretext to let him go. The clash with that lady provided the perfect opening.

The youth wouldn't be shocked if his former employer had orchestrated it all. And frankly, he couldn't care less.

Regarding his deep ponderings? Ultimately, like all others, he found no resolutions to them.

With a long exhale, he banished the pointless reflections and fixed his attention on the path forward.

Continuing along the street, he veered into an aged apartment complex.

Moments later, Liam turned the key, swung the door open, and stepped inside his flat. He tossed the stack of mail he'd grabbed at the entrance onto the rickety table before flopping onto his mattress.

The bed's frame groaned loudly, and the threadbare bedding compressed flat, nearly merging with the frame itself.

Liam flinched a bit from the discomfort but paid it little heed. His mind shifted to other concerns.

Freshly jobless, a quick scan of his dismal surroundings made it clear he must secure new employment without delay.

The mail consisted of eviction warnings and alerts for overdue payments.

Beyond those papers, the single-room space held nothing fit for consumption.

Liam's bank balance? Scarcely $20 remained. Despite his ex-boss's assurance of payout for severance and such, Liam placed no faith in it.

Moreover, even if it arrived, it would merely scratch the surface of his enormous debts.

Suddenly, a chime rang inside Liam's mind.

[Ding!]