(Start of Week 19. Theo's Balance: $18,295.00)
Week 19 - Monday
Monday morning found Theo not basking in the afterglow of acquisition, but immersed in the unglamorous reality of bringing Maria's Charcoal Chicken back from the brink. The 'Closed for Renovations' sign hung starkly in the window, buying him precious time. His weekend had been a blur of scrubbing decades of grime and patching the most immediate physical flaws of the shop, work that left his muscles aching but his resolve hardened. Now, Week 19 was about laying the real foundation. Finalizing the arranged repairs and, more importantly, deploying his power permanently onto the core equipment.
The professional hood cleaners arrived first, a two-person crew equipped with pressure washers and potent, citrus-scented solvents. Theo watched, satisfied, as they systematically stripped away the thick, sticky layers of grease coating the exhaust hood and filters, revealing gleaming, almost forgotten stainless steel beneath. One less fire hazard, one less source of lingering Jono-era stench, he noted clinically. He paid their invoice promptly via his new credit union account's app, mentally deducting the significant cost from his dwindling cash reserves.
Next came Sal, the grizzled handyman Theo had hired for the minor plumbing and floor repairs. Theo met him at the back prep sink. "Faucet holding up?"
Sal turned it on and off, checking the seals. "Tight as a drum. Shoulda replaced the whole fixture, thing's ancient, but the new washers will hold it for a while." He pointed to the floor near the fryer. "Patch is solid too. Like I said though, this whole floor's seen better decades. You'll want to redo it proper eventually."
"Eventually," Theo echoed noncommittally. "Appreciate the quick work, Sal." He settled the bill, another small but necessary dent in his capital.
With the tradespeople gone by mid-morning and the sharp scent of degreaser starting to fade, Theo locked the front door again, the click echoing in the now truly empty space. It was time. He took a deep breath, centring himself, the familiar low hum of potential stirring within him, ready to be unleashed. Ten charges available today, ten more tomorrow. Enough for the core systems and strategic extras. He approached the silent, hulking form of the charcoal rotisserie, placing a hand firmly on its cool stainless steel flank.
He focused, visualizing perfectly even heat distribution, flawless rotation, motors running with quiet efficiency. Rotisserie. +1 Cooking Consistency/Efficiency.Ping. The familiar resonance flowed, deeper this time, sinking into the heavy metal, feeling permanent, foundational. (Charge 1/10)
Next, the deep fryer bank. Two large, greasy veterans of countless batches of chips. He focused on the thermostats, the heating elements within, picturing instant temperature recovery, unwavering heat. Deep Fryers (Both). +1 Temperature Stability/Recovery.Ping. (Charge 2/10)
He moved with methodical purpose. The large walk-in refrigerator at the back, essential for preserving inventory. Walk-in Refrigerator. +1 Temperature Stability/Efficiency.Ping. (Charge 3/10). The smaller glass-fronted drinks fridge out front. Drinks Fridge. +1 Cooling Efficiency.Ping. (Charge 4/10). The main ventilation hood extractor fan, crucial for air quality and avoiding a greasy fug. Exhaust Fan. +1 Airflow Efficiency/Durability.Ping. (Charge 5/10).
The point-of-sale system – the clunky cash register and separate, ancient card terminal. Breakdowns during a rush were unacceptable. POS Register & Card Terminal. +1 Reliability/Speed.Ping. (Charge 6/10).
He paused, assessing. Core systems enhanced. What else offered high leverage? He spotted the electric knife sharpener Jono had left, dusty on a shelf. Essential for maintaining prep knives. Knife Sharpener. +1 Sharpening Effectiveness.Ping. (Charge 7/10). He found Maria's old Santoku knife, cleaned it, and enhanced it too. Santoku Knife. +1 Sharpness/Edge Retention.Ping. (Charge 8/10). The main prep tables looked sturdy but were scratched and stained. Prep Tables (All). +1 Durability/Surface Integrity.Ping. (Charge 9/10). Finally, for peace of mind, the front door lock again, reinforcing its mechanism. Front Door Lock. +1 Security/Mechanism Smoothness.Ping. (Charge 10/10).
Monday's charges expended. He felt the familiar mental drain, but satisfaction outweighed it. The shop felt different, infused with a latent, optimized potential only he could sense.
Week 19 - Tuesday
Tuesday was dedicated to round two of enhancements and final preparations. He used his newly refreshed charges. The chip warmer Jono barely used? Chip Warmer. +1 Heat Consistency/Retention. Ping. (1/10). The backup fryer basket? Fryer Basket. +1 Durability. Ping. (2/10). The heavy-duty can opener? Can Opener. +1 Mechanism Durability. Ping. (3/10). He even enhanced the main light switch panel (+1 Reliability) and the handle on the walk-in fridge (+1 Durability). He was being thorough, perhaps excessively so, reinforcing anything that looked prone to failure or could impact efficiency, spending another five charges (8/10 total used for Tuesday).
He spent the rest of the day on aesthetics and final setup. He touched up chipped paintwork on the walls. He cleaned the front windows until they sparkled. He designed a simple but clean menu board using erasable markers. Charcoal Chicken (Whole, Half, Quarter), Hand-Cut Fries (made from fresh potatoes he'd sourced, not frozen), basic combo deals, canned sodas. He finalized his opening day special: Half Chicken + Small Chips for $7.50, an aggressive price designed purely to get people in the door.
Finally, late Tuesday afternoon, he carefully took down the "CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS" sign. He replaced it with a new one, printed in bold, hopeful letters: GRAND OPENING WEDNESDAY! Maria's Charcoal Chicken - Under New Management! Opening Special: Half Chicken & Chips $7.50 – Better than Half Price! He stepped back onto the sidewalk, looking at the sign, at the clean windows, the implicitly optimized equipment humming silently within. Butterflies, unfamiliar and unwelcome, fluttered in his stomach. This was real. His name wasn't on the sign yet, but his future was tied to this small, unassuming shop.