Starting Tokyo Life From Inheriting A Shopping Street

Looking at the bowl of noodles in front of her, Granny Mutsuki fell into a spiral of self-doubt. Her faith in ramen, which she had upheld for decades, began to waver. It felt as if all her years of experience in making ramen had been a lie.

Though she hadn't witnessed her disciple's process of simmering the broth or kneading the dough due to time constraints, just one glance at her still-not-quite-sturdy physique was enough for Granny Mutsuki to make her judgment.

Not to mention the noodle-cooking and straining process that she had seen with her own eyes—riddled with constant flaws.

Of course, Granny Mutsuki was aware that her standards were rather exacting. The average customer wouldn't notice much of a difference.

But how could noodles made like this possibly taste so good? It was simply illogical!

"Granny?" Mrs. Akiyama called out cautiously from behind the pot lid.

Granny Mutsuki snapped out of her thoughts, her gaze complicated as she looked at the timid young woman before her.

"You're still making mistakes with the key points I've emphasized over and over. Running a ramen shop as a woman isn't easy. If you don't hold yourself to strict standards, how can you expect to keep the shop running for the long haul?"

Mrs. Akiyama obediently lowered her head, listening to the scolding with practiced ease.

"But..." Granny Mutsuki let out a sigh, her expression growing even more complicated as she stared at the bowl of noodles before her.

"Perhaps I'm truly getting old. I can't figure out what ingenious methods you've used—not only did you make up for all the flaws, but you even managed to surpass the flavor of my cooking."

"I'm sorry! Next time, I'll be more careful… I'll knead the dough properly three times, just like you said..."

Mrs. Akiyama instinctively admitted her mistake, but then suddenly froze, her face filled with surprise.

"Huh? It's already better than what Granny makes? Then… shouldn't I not need to change anything?"

"..." Granny Mutsuki's face immediately darkened. "Fix it anyway! If you can make something this good without correcting your mistakes, your talent could make you the top ramen chef in the country!

"Show those men who look down on female chefs! Make them eat their words and humiliate them thoroughly!"

Mrs. Akiyama quickly lowered her head again, muttering quietly, "But that sounds so exhausting… I'm not really interested in humiliating anyone…"

Shuichi Chiba, watching from the side, couldn't help but stifle a laugh. This woman really was like a child. Feeling curious, he turned to Tsuki Akiyama, who was standing nearby, and asked:

"By the way, what made your mom want to learn how to make ramen in the first place? It's not exactly an easy path for women, is it?"

Compared to other cuisines, ramen requires significant physical strength, something women are naturally at a disadvantage with—especially Mrs. Akiyama, who clearly wasn't the type to excel at such tasks.

Some customers would even leave immediately upon realizing that the ramen chef was a woman, assuming the food couldn't possibly be good.

Tsuki Akiyama glanced sideways at her younger sister and shrugged. "What other reason could there be? An-chan loved Granny Mutsuki's ramen when she was little, of course."

"My mom's the type who doesn't have a clear sense of her own abilities. She just does whatever she feels like without thinking it through." Tsuki Akiyama said with a shrug.

Granny Mutsuki, overhearing their conversation, snorted in annoyance. Remembering how An-chan now preferred her mother's ramen, she muttered irritably:

"If An-chan weren't so adorable, I wouldn't have taught such an airhead. And with her scatterbrained nature and half-baked skills, the shop would've gone under ages ago if it weren't for Tsuki helping out—reminding her about everything and suggesting she turn it into a women's ramen shop."

"A women's ramen shop? There are ramen shops specifically for women?" Shuichi Chiba asked, surprised. He had never heard of such a concept.

What's next? he thought. Beauty salons and gyms catering to women make sense, but ramen shops? Is this street turning into some kind of 'women-only zone'?

"Of course there are. It's been a thing for quite a while." Tsuki Akiyama replied with a nod.

"Mom's cooking is decent but not exactly outstanding. Combined with the challenges of being a female chef, it's hard to compete with other ramen shops. So why not try a different approach? In the past, there were fewer female customers eating ramen. After all, eating ramen isn't the most graceful activity, and the broth can easily splash onto clothes. But in recent years, ramen has become much more popular among women.

One of the main reasons women avoided ramen shops was that most ramen shops are cramped, forcing them to sit elbow-to-elbow with male customers. Women-only ramen shops solve that problem perfectly. Add thoughtful touches, like offering hair ties and disposable bibs, and female customers feel much more at ease."

Shuichi Chiba suddenly saw the infamously eccentric president in a new light. Serious in her work, keenly perceptive, sharp-minded, and highly organized—if not for her "special quirks," she would undoubtedly be considered exceptional, far surpassing her peers. The ideal "perfect child" others could only envy.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Are you thinking of something weird again? Granny Mutsuki's still here, so don't try anything strange..." Tsuki Akiyama, feeling uneasy under his gaze, whispered a reminder.

Her mother had been quite open-minded in her younger years, so even if something inappropriate was discovered, it wouldn't be a big deal. But it was crucial not to shock the elder.

Shuichi Chiba chuckled. "Oh, nothing. It's just that... bullying such an excellent president like you seems even more fun."

Tsuki Akiyama's heart skipped a beat, a sensation like a cat scratching at her insides, leaving her both restless and intrigued. What sort of exciting scheme had this guy come up with now?

Granny Mutsuki sighed from the side, cutting into their exchange. "If it weren't a women-only ramen shop, and given that female customers aren't as picky about taste as men, there's no way someone like Tamako—so careless and scatterbrained—could've managed to raise two kids."

Tsuki Akiyama's lips twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly. It was clear she didn't quite agree with that statement.

Shuichi Chiba raised an eyebrow, recalling the earlier discussion about women-only train carriages and Tsuki Akiyama's stance on the matter. Clearly, women-oriented ramen shops faced their own set of challenges.

Considering Mrs. Akiyama's personality, it was obvious that most of the issues likely fell to her eldest daughter to handle.

"Weren't the flyers arranged by you, Chiba-kun? It's written right on them," An Akiyama, having already finished her bowl of ramen while the others were talking, finally chimed in. She picked up one of the flyers and asked curiously.

Shuichi Chiba leaned forward to take the flyer from her hand. The distance was just far enough that, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he placed one hand on Tsuki Akiyama's thigh for support.

Not only that, but he gave it a firm squeeze.

Tsuki Akiyama immediately pressed her legs together tightly, her entire body beginning to tremble slightly.

After grabbing the flyer, Shuichi Chiba sat back down, seemingly oblivious, and glanced at its content. Sure enough, the flyer prominently advertised the shop as a women-only ramen establishment.

….

As breakfast wrapped up, the floral wreath Shuichi Chiba had ordered the day before arrived. Mrs. Akiyama was very pleased with it, and her sense of belonging increased by another ten points.

But where exactly did those ten points come from? Was it the thoughtful gesture of the floral wreath? The fact that her cooking had surpassed her mentor's? Or perhaps the successful opening of the new shop?

Shuichi Chiba couldn't quite figure it out. But what mattered more was that Mrs. Akiyama, with a sense of belonging of 60, had officially surpassed Fumika Ogawa!

[Tamako Akiyama, sense of belonging: 60]

[Fumika Ogawa, sense of belonging: 50]

[Sayuki Ogawa, sense of belonging: 30]

[Current Monthly Salary: ¥1,500,000]

He stared at the data for a long while, comparing the situations of these two different but outstanding shop owners. The more he thought about it, the more he started doubting himself.

Had he misunderstood the system all along? Increasing the sense of belonging didn't seem as hard as he had initially believed.

Maybe the proper way to utilize the ¥100,000 All-Purpose Butler Premium Service was to provide timely assistance to the shop owners instead of overthinking every step?

Watching the three teenagers leave after breakfast, Granny Mutsuki turned to Tamako Akiyama, who was humming a tune and admiring the floral wreath.

"Aren't you, as their mother, the least bit concerned? It looks like your two daughters are interested in the same boy."

"Eh? Really?" Mrs. Akiyama blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "An-chan and Tsuki-chan have similar taste? They really are sisters, huh~"

"..." Granny Mutsuki felt an urge to whack her with her cane, but her age made that kind of effort a bit too much these days. "Aren't you worried about the two of them fighting over him in the future?"

Mrs. Akiyama tilted her head slightly. "Future problems, huh… I'll worry about it when the time comes. Anyway, An-chan is just like me, so I'm sure she'll be happy. And Tsuki-chan is so smart; she'll be fine too."

.

.

.

.

You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.

pat reon.com/GreenBlue17

200 Power Stones for 1 extra chapter.

5 New reviews for 1 extra chapter.

Goal refresh every week.