“That… is the dumbest class I’ve ever seen,” said Greg. “How is that even a class? It doesn’t even give you any benefits! Did it at least boost your stats? Quick, bring up your status screen.”

  “Your stats didn’t go up. At all,” Greg said, cradling his star face in his cartoon hands. “This is horrible. You could’ve been a [God], Dick! A living [God]! Instead… you’re a [Middle Class American].”

  “Damn proud,” Dick replied, beaming.

  “Alright, well. What’s done is done,” said Greg, looking like he was about to cry. “No use crying over dead babies, as Gandalf liked to say. What do you plan to do now? Y’know… this [Boarse] killing idea of yours is great. This is an amazing place to farm EXP. I say we stay here and kill some more [Boarse]—Hey! Where are you going?”

  “Town. Gonna flip me some burgers.”

  “That’s… such a waste! Why not stay a bit and farm EXP?”

  Dick turned and stared Greg in the eyes, his expression solemn. “Because I already had ‘em.”

  Then he turned around and kept walking.

  Greg stared at the big man for a solid minute, then raised his cartoon hands to the sky and burst out crying. “Kamisama tasukete!!!”

  [Boarse] meat sizzled upon the grill. Beside it stood bottles of ketchup, mustard, pickles, and slices of cheese.

  “Hmmm. You really oughta thank me, y’know?” Greg said, floating around Dick as he worked. Dick brought his A game, wearing an apron for the occasion while a fire-fed stove provided the heat.

  “Without my [Item Shop], you couldn’t have bought any of this stuff! You do realize dijon mustard isn’t a common thing in this world, right?”

  Dick had deftly stripped the [Boarse] hides, selling them off for coin, but as he’d soon found out, most of the basic burger ingredients weren’t for sale. From the burger buns to the pickles, he’d been forced to use Greg’s item shop, bartering away the remainder of the hides.

  It didn’t matter. Dick was now flipping burgers, and really, wasn’t that all that mattered?

  Greg sighed. “Dick, you do realize this isn’t going to work, right?”

  Dick shuffled his Wacdonald’s hat, unfazed.“I’m lovin’ it!”