Week 16 – Monday
Monday morning arrived not with the jarring screech of an alarm, but with Theo surfacing naturally from a deep, uninterrupted sleep. He lay still for a moment, blinking at the familiar water stains on his ceiling, a strange sense of profound well-being washing over him. He felt… good. Impossibly, inexplicably good. Refreshed. Clear-headed. It was a sensation so alien after the relentless grind and anxiety of the past few months, punctuated by the caffeine-fuelled nightmare of last week’s coffee experiment marathon, that it took him a moment to place its source.
The chicken shop.
Anticipation, clean and sharp, cut through the morning haze. The timed +1 enhancements on Jono’s rotisserie and deep fryer had expired sometime overnight. The real-world test of his ‘Tool Enhancement’ hypothesis was complete. Despite having earned zero dollars in two weeks, despite the looming uncertainty of his next venture, the potential unlocked by proving that hypothesis felt more valuable than any single transaction. It felt like finding a master key after months spent fumbling with crude lockpicks. It felt like the best thing since sliced bread, or perhaps, perfectly roasted chicken.
The memory of last week’s coffee binge sent an involuntary shudder through him. Six mugs, double shot, twelve shots in total, and a coffee or two even prior to the experiment as part of his normal routine. It was an amazing amount of coffee and caffeine… The jittery highs, the crashing lows, the night spent pacing like a caged lunatic, the lingering headache… even thinking about coffee made his eye twitch faintly. Definitely should have used soda, or something less potent for that experiment, he thought grimly. Or maybe just stuck to enhancing the beans and machine. Lesson learned.
He swung his legs out of bed, the usual stiffness surprisingly absent. He felt charged, eager. Maria's Charcoal Chicken wouldn't open until lunchtime, but the digital world offered clues. He grabbed his laptop, the enhanced machine booting quickly, a testament to the power he now wielded with slightly more understanding. He navigated to Google Maps, found the listing for the chicken shop, and clicked on the reviews, sorting by 'Newest'.
His breath hitched. Three reviews posted over the weekend.
The first, timestamped Saturday evening, was brutally succinct: ?☆☆☆☆ “WORST CHICKEN EVER. Ordered Wednesday night based on old memories. Dry, tasteless garbage. Chips were a soggy, salty mess. Avoid this place like the plague. Used to be good, now it’s just sad.”
Theo nodded internally. Okay, that fits. Wednesday was before my visit on Thursday, meaning this would have been before the +1 enhanced roaster and deep fryer being available. I’ve tasted the crap that Jono served me, giving it one star is generous. I would have given it half a star, or negative stars if I could. It was barely edible…
Then, the next two reviews, posted Sunday afternoon and Sunday evening respectively:
????? “Wow! Tastes like Maria is back! Came here on a whim Saturday remembering the good old days, and was shocked! The chicken was SO tender and juicy, perfectly seasoned, skin was amazing. Chips were perfectly cooked too, crispy outside, fluffy inside (maybe needed a touch more salt for me, but that's personal preference). Service was a bit slow and the guy working seemed distracted, but the food? Incredible! Felt like stepping back in time. Bringing the whole family next week!” – Linda H.
????? “OMG The Chicken!!! Heard from a friend it was suddenly good again, didn’t believe them tbh lol. Went last night (Saturday). DUDE. So. Good. Chicken was fire, juicy af, skin was perfect. Chips were bangin’. Legit best takeaway chicken I’ve had in ages. Dunno what changed but KEEP DOING IT!!! Def coming back!” – Mike_P23
Theo scanned the reviews again, a slow, triumphant grin spreading across his face. There it is. Two glowing reviews, specifically citing the food quality from Saturday, sandwiched between a scathing review from earlier in the week and the long, depressing trail of one- and two-star complaints from the preceding weeks ("Dry," "Awful service," "Never again," "What happened to this place?"). There was a lone three-star review from a month ago, generously reminiscing about the past and hoping for improvement. The pattern was undeniable. The +1 enhancement on the roaster and fryer, active over the core weekend period, had demonstrably, dramatically improved the output, even with the utterly uninspired Jono at the helm. It worked. It f*ing worked. The validation felt like rocket fuel injected directly into his veins. He couldn’t wait to see the aftermath in person tonight.
Late Monday night arrived thick with anticipation. Theo deliberately waited until after the main dinner rush, hoping for a chance to talk to Jono when things were quieter. As he rounded the corner onto the shop’s street, however, his steps slowed. Instead of the usual desolate quiet, a small crowd milled around outside Maria’s Charcoal Chicken. Maybe half a dozen people waiting, peering impatiently through the glass window. Inside, the lights blazed, and he could see Jono, usually slumped over his phone, moving with frantic, uncoordinated energy behind the counter, trying to bag orders while simultaneously wrestling with the rotisserie.
Interesting. Theo thought. Word got around fast. The two five-star reviews, maybe amplified by local social media chatter, had clearly driven unexpected traffic. He approached the small group waiting outside, adopting a look of mild curiosity.
"Long wait tonight?" he asked a young couple leaning against the wall, looking annoyed.
The guy rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. Saw some post on Instagram raving about this place, said it was like 'legendary old-school chicken'. Drove half an hour to try it." He gestured dismissively towards the shop. "Been waiting twenty minutes already. Looks like chaos in there."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"Was it worth it?" Theo pressed gently.
The woman scoffed. "Doubt it. The people coming out don't look too happy."
Just then, a man emerged from the shop clutching a takeaway bag, his expression thunderous. Theo intercepted him casually. "Hey, sorry to bother you, was thinking of trying this place. How was it?"
The man glared back at the shop. "Rubbish! Absolute rubbish! Saw the same stupid Instagram post. This?" He shook the bag slightly. "Dry as cardboard, tastes like nothing. Chips are soggy. Seriously, the pre-cooked roast chicken from the supermarket down the road is probably better. Complete waste of time and money. Whoever posted that nonsense needs their head checked." He stalked off down the street, fuming.
Theo felt a cold thrill. Perfect. The enhancement had expired Sunday night as scheduled. The magic was gone. The Tool Enhancement effect was demonstrably temporary when timed. He continued talking to people, hearing variations of the same story, lured by weekend hype, utterly disappointed by tonight's reality.
Then, he spotted an older woman sitting patiently on a nearby bench, watching the chaotic scene with a sigh. He recognized her vaguely from the neighbourhood. He approached her.
"Quite the crowd tonight," Theo commented, sitting down a respectful distance away.
She smiled wryly. "Yes, isn't it? Poor Jono looks run off his feet." She paused, then looked at Theo. "You know, I was one of the ones who left a good review over the weekend."
Theo feigned mild surprise. "Oh really? I saw those, they sounded amazing."
"They were," the woman affirmed, her eyes clouding with nostalgia. "I knew Maria and her husband way back when. Started coming again after they retired, just to check in, you know? Usually, it’s… well, it's not the same. Jono tries, I suppose, but he doesn't have his mother's touch." She leaned forward slightly. "But this past Saturday? I came in, and honestly, it was like Maria herself was back in the kitchen. The chicken… juicy, flavourful, skin perfectly crisp. The chips… just right. It brought back such wonderful memories, I felt I had to say something online."
"So you came back tonight for more?" Theo asked.
She sighed again, a deeper, more disappointed sound this time. "I did. Foolish, maybe. Hoping lightning would strike twice." She gestured towards the shop. "What I saw people bringing out just now… it looked like the usual sad chicken Jono serves. I asked someone who just left, and they said it was terrible." She shook her head sadly. "Maybe Saturday was just a fluke? Maybe he had a good day, or maybe all these people tonight stressed him out and he couldn't cope? I don't know. But it definitely wasn't the same magic as the weekend." She stood up slowly. "Ah well. Maybe I'll try again in a few weeks. You never know." She gave Theo a polite nod and walked away.
Theo watched her go, the final piece clicking into place. The validation was absolute. The +1 enhancements on the equipment had temporarily transformed the output, creating food good enough to evoke cherished memories, even overcoming Jono’s profound lack of skill and passion. And just as crucially, the moment the enhancement expired, the quality reverted instantly to baseline mediocrity, or worse under the pressure of the unexpected rush. The effect was potent, controllable, and demonstrably linked to the tool, not the operator or any lasting change in ingredients.
He glanced back at the shop. Jono was now arguing heatedly with a customer, gesticulating wildly. There was no chance of talking to him tonight amidst this chaos. But Theo didn't need to, at least not immediately. He had his data. The real-world test was a resounding success. The Tool Enhancement strategy was viable. He turned and walked away, already planning his next move, the failure of Maria’s Charcoal Chicken under Jono’s normal operation feeling like a personal victory.
Week 16 – Tuesday
Tuesday morning. The frantic energy of the previous night’s observation had settled into a colder, more analytical focus. Theo sat nursing a glass of water, still avoiding coffee, thinking about partnerships. The GPU venture, despite its fiery end, had proven one thing: scaling solo was a nightmare. Managing sourcing, enhancement, listing, sales, shipping, customer service (and dodging corporate investigations) across multiple platforms had nearly burned him out. If Tool Enhancement was the future, allowing him to potentially influence multiple businesses simultaneously, he couldn’t possibly manage it all himself. He needed help. He needed… allies. People he could trust.
The thought still made his skin crawl. Trust felt like a luxury he’d never been able to afford. Everyone had an angle, everyone looked out for number one, lessons learned the hard way in the corporate shark tank and reinforced by life itself. But the logical necessity was undeniable. To truly leverage his power, to build something substantial, something approaching the scale of his ambitions, required delegation, expertise he didn't possess, and ultimately, trusting others not to betray him or expose his secret.
His mind immediately went to Sarah. He replayed their coffee meetings. Her infectious passion, her sharp technical mind, her obvious frustration with her current soul-crushing job, her straightforward, bubbly personality… She seemed leagues away from the backstabbing ladder-climbers he despised. He genuinely liked her, in a detached, observational way. More importantly, he respected her drive and intelligence. If she applied that energy to the right project… she could be formidable. An ideal partner?
Then came the roadblock. Her cycling data analysis project. He mentally broke it down again through the lens of his power.
- Data Collection: Garmin, Fitbit, Wahoo, existing hardware owned by users. He couldn't +1 thousands of individual devices. Useless.
- Data Upload/Platform: Cloud servers, website hosting. He could +1 a server rack for +1 Efficiency/Stability, maybe reducing her hosting costs slightly or improving uptime. Marginal benefit at best. Useless.
- The Core Value: Her algorithms, the code she writes to analyse the data and provide insights. This was the key. And it was utterly intangible. He couldn't +1 software code. He couldn't +1 Sarah's brain to make her write better code. He could enhance her laptop, her chair, her desk lamp, negligible impact on the quality of her intellectual output. Her current venture was almost entirely incompatible with his ability.
Dilemma. He liked Sarah. He saw her potential. He recognized his own need for trustworthy partners. But her passion project was a dead end for leveraging his unique advantage. Could he steer her towards something else? Something involving hardware where his +1 could make a difference? Maybe enhance manufacturing tools for cycling components? Or develop a new type of sensor where enhanced materials or production tools could create a superior product?
It felt manipulative, stringing her along while hoping to redirect her passion towards his own needs. But wasn't that just business? Aligning interests, leveraging assets? He pushed the ethical qualms aside. Play it by ear, he decided. Keep the connection open. Gather more intel during the bubble tea meeting. See if an opportunity presents itself naturally.