Noobkitty poured the stone ground acorns into a large mixing bowl and combined them with water, stirring diligently. To her surprise, the water and ground acorn instantly separated. The water showed a mild red hue instead of the expected yellowish-brown. Experimentally, she scooped up a bit of the wet acorn flour with a spoon. It wasn’t bitter at all. She paused, then smiled, looking up at the ceiling.

  “Thanks, AI, for not including tannins in your acorns,” she murmured.

  She drained the crimson water and placed the wet acorn flour into a closed pot, setting it near the wood stove’s firebox to dry out. The technique was inefficient, but she had to adapt. In her original life, she had access to dehydrators, pressure cookers, and all sorts of modern cooking marvels. Now she was constrained by a simple wood stove and oven, and not all real-world cooking rules applied.

  While she waited for her flour, she tasted the jam she’d prepared: wild berries with a slight, bright lemon undertone and nettles for an unexpected, earthy herb flavor. This combination was going to form the perfect filling for a mini tart recipe, complementing the nutty acorn flour.

  The hardest part was waiting, so between steps, she reviewed her grand plan. Since this world only gave combat XP for killing things, a hard limit she refused to cross (the rat was too cute), she had to get creative. Step One was skill grinding Cooking to create stat buffing consumables. Step Two was focusing on equipment enhancement, specifically the overlooked system of item fusion. With luck and dedication, in a few weeks, her passively augmented stats would be high enough to bypass or PWN the constant player killers outside of town.

  For now, she waited, reviewing the manuals again since she literally had nothing better to do.

  The room soon filled with a glorious, complex scent. She pulled the tray from the oven: a dozen mini wild berry tarts. They were slightly uneven in their golden color, but even her lack of in-game skill couldn’t diminish the delicious, sweet, nutty, herbal aroma of her creation. She reached out and snatched one off the hot tray with her bare hand, immediately receiving a notification:

  You received 1 point of burn damage.

  “Really, AI? You remembered to include basic contact injury in the game but forgot logical commerce?” she griped. But her annoyance was short-lived.

  When they were cool enough to handle safely, she took a large bite and was filled with delicious glee. Three notifications instantly popped up:

  Cooking skill unlocked! Level 1: You can cook things and get better at cooking as you do, like real cooking but here and faster.

  New Recipe Learned: Weird Berry Cup (Lv. 1)

  Its a cup shaped pastry full of berry goo.

  No enchantments

  Your Cooking skill has reached Lv. 3.

  She threw her head back and yelled at the ceiling. “My tarts aren’t weird, they’re delicious!” She was disappointed her cooking didn't yield stats yet, but what could she expect from Level 1 tarts the AI couldn’t even be bothered to name properly?

  Finishing the first mini tart, she idly grabbed a second and nibbled it as she checked her inventory. It was sparse after selling so much for the room and essential supplies like sugar. She’d have to go gather more.

  She put her remaining tarts in the kitchen storage, along with all her ingredients, deposited her small amount of gold into her trunk, and headed downstairs for another gathering expedition.

  “Kitty, whatever you cooked up there is making my stew genuinely jealous,” Grizzlebeard teased from behind the bar.

  “When I get back, I’ll accidentally leave one on your counter,” she said with a knowing smile.

  The game wouldn't let her sell him the food, but a discarded item could potentially be taken by an NPC, which is how the trash collectors cleared the thousands of rat tails new players dropped in town.

  She left the tavern and headed to the official town exit. She smiled and waved to the friendly guard on duty, took two steps onto the grassy forest floor, and...

  A Magic Missile pierced her chest. As she stared down at the magically burning hole, she heard a triumphant voice shout:

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “Level up, dork!”

  ----

  She sighed and stared at the now-familiar sparkling fountain of the town center.

  “I am going to PWN them so hard, the AI is going to have to manually nerf me,” she swore, her annoyance hardening into resolve.

  She considered the town’s perimeter. The guards arrested intruders who entered illegally, but what about leaving?

  With a new plan, she left the town by simply hopping a nearby fence.

  No one stopped her.

  “Okay... I’ll still lose half my inventory and die when I re-enter illegally, but that’s better than being player killed again by those jerks.”

  Later that day, with a full inventory and another Gathering skill level-up, she returned to town, hopped the fence, and...

  “Halt! Intruder!”

  She raised her hands in surrender and was swiftly bonked on the head with a club.

  ----

  The fountain was really quite nice. The giggling sound was almost a comfort as she looked at its sparkling waters and the random gold coins at the bottom. She wondered if players had actually thrown coins in, or if the NPCs or the AI had put them there. If those fountain coins respawned, it would be an endless, passive source of gold.

  She decided not to test it, having already been killed twice in one day.

  With far more supplies this time, she experimented and level-grinded her cooking. It took the whole day, but eventually, at Cooking Level 15, she made something with a tangible stat bonus:

  Jalape?o Tea Cookies? Lv. 15

  Who puts Jalape?o in cookies?

  5% Heat Resistance for 6 hours.

  She looked at the ceiling, rubbing her temples.

  “They are tea biscuits, and did you really need to put the question mark on it?!”

  The world didn’t answer, and the description didn’t change. She sighed and put all the new items in her kitchen inventory to keep them fresh until tomorrow. She then headed downstairs for a drink and conversation with Grizzlebeard.

  She casually discarded a Weird Berry Cup, a Mushroom and Potato Disk, a Nutty Muffin, and one of the Jalape?o Tea Cookies? near the bar.

  “I see the AI still doesn’t know what you’re cooking, Kitty,” he said, chuckling at the item names.

  “Luckily, it still approximates the taste and texture correctly. I would have hated to be stuck making the basic recipes forever. No offense to your, um, stew,” she said with a playfully sour expression.

  “I notice you don’t have any meat in your supplies. Trying to make sure you don’t cook ol’ Grizzle out of a job?” he joked.

  “No, I’m vegan. So nothing that comes from animals in my recipes,” she said seriously.

  “I thought you players claimed this world wasn’t real. What does it matter if you eat an animal that’s not real?”

  She looked him straight in the eye, and then, without blinking, gently poked him in the hand with a table fork.

  “Ouch!” he yelped, pulling his hand back. “What’s gotten into you?! I know cats are temperamental, but what the hell?”

  “It hurt, right? And if you did it to me, it would hurt me too. And when someone snaps the neck of a bunny for stew, it hurts the bunny, too,” she explained, keeping her tone measured. “They might not be physical, but you’re part of this world just as they are. And I’m downloaded. You, me, the bunny, we’re all data. But we all still experience things. I don’t want to be the cause of someone’s pain if I can avoid it. So: no bunny meat, no cooped-up chickens, no milked cows, and no mob drops.”

  “You’re crazy... but I get it,” Grizzlebeard said, rubbing his hand thoughtfully. “That also explains why you’re stuck at Level 1.”

  She nodded. “Level XP only from killing is a stupid system. It makes a world of murderhobos.”

  “It’s the way the world is built. Good luck being stuck at level 1, Kitty.”

  “I have a plan,” she said smugly. “Speaking of which, where is the players’ market area?”

  The next morning, she strategically picked her spot in the market square, put out a large blanket, and her carefully handwritten sign:

  VEGAN SNACKS

  And in small letters it also read,

  The AI says they’re “weird"

  She gave out more samples than she made actual sales, but that was okay. She also inquired with a few people and managed to make a few profitable trades instead of relying solely on gold. Turns out, a lot of players were willing to trade a few useless, inventory-clogging items for a delicious biscuit.

  A thin Elven person in brightly colored mage robes approached. Noobkitty noted their multicolor hair and their large smile as they scanned her selection. Noobkitty’s heart gave a little skip of hope when she noticed the mage was also Level 1, maybe this was a fellow pacifist or vegan.

  “Do you have anything with bacon?” the mage asked.

  “No. The sign explicitly says vegan snacks,” she grumbled, her hopes of a fellow vegan dashed.

  “Yeah, but it’s not real meat. It’s why I can eat it and still be kosher. You could probably eat some and still be moral or whatever.”

  “The digital pig doesn’t know it’s not real. They’re still slaughtered, even if they eventually respawn to be killed again.” She paused, a sudden, horrifying thought striking her. “Oh gods, that might actually be even worse, that poor, perpetually murdered piggy!”

  “As weird as your cookies, I see. Still, um, do you offer samples? I’m kinda outta cash,” the mage asked, undeterred.

  “You call me weird, then immediately ask for free food? I do do trades. How about a sample for two questions.”

  “Two samples, two questions,” the mage instantly agreed, snatching a tart and a cookie before Noobkitty had actually said yes.

  “First question: Name and pronoun. It’s driving me nuts that I keep thinking of you as ‘the mage.’”

  “They/them preferred, but I answer to all. And I am Fizzypop, a mildly successful video game food blogger. And girl, these weird desserts of yours are going to get a full review.”

  Message from CheshyBot:

  Seriously? Noobkitty! Get this elf’s contact info, we can do a collab! NOW!

  Noobkitty looked back at Fizzypop. “Um, two copies of me who run a streamer channel want to know if you’d like to do a collab?”

  Fizzypop’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “Will you keep making me weird snacks to try for free if I agree?”

  “Um... sure. I can do that,” Noobkitty agreed, feeling a little insulted by the repeated use of “weird snacks.”

  “Then, cat girl, we have a deal.” They offered their hand. The two shook, exchanging contact information, and Noobkitty sent Fizzypop her influencer-selves’ details.

  “Also, my snacks aren’t weird. They’re delicious,” Noobkitty insisted one last time.

  “Two things can be true at once,” Fizzypop teased with a huge smile.

  ---

  Message from GobMouse ??

  Good job getting the mage and dying a few times. You probably can stop dying now, fans aren’t finding it as funny anymore. People liked watching you cook, though, so definitely do more of that.

  P.S. I wish you would have given the mage more treats so they could have shared with us, next time send extra treats.