In the biting, howling wind, a sixteen-year-old lone soldier stared at the steaming cup of chicken noodle soup I had just made. Hugging his arms, he shivered at my door and swallowed hard. "I won't betray my platoon. This has to be an enemy trap." I pushed open the supermarket door and shouted, "Hey kid, I'll trade you five hot beef hand pies for a pack of those frozen field rations. Do we have a deal?" 1. After a lot of coaxing, the young soldier finally stepped inside. Under the warm blast of the heater, the heavy winter uniform that had been frozen solid in the snow began to thaw, the fabric turning damp and heavy. Afraid he would catch a chill in wet clothes, I quickly ordered the System to front me a modern, heavily insulated Gore-Tex parka from the back inventory. The System grumbled in dissatisfaction, "I thought we were going to open a supermarket in a high-tech galaxy. Bonding with you is going to bankrupt me." I didn't have time to entertain its complaints. I handed the jacket to the soldier. "I've been researching the durability of old fabrics lately. Could you do me a favor and trade the coat you're wearing for this one?" I pointed to the steaming cup of soup next to me. "This soup is your payment." Though his eyes were still full of caution, his stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl. I tossed him a clean towel. "Change into this. Call me when you're done, and I'll come grab the old coat." 2. I hid in the back room, my hands trembling with sheer excitement. This was actually happening. I had truly traveled seventy years back in time, and I was actually looking at my great-uncle. Last night, while I was asleep in bed, a buzzing electronic voice echoed in my ears: "Beep. System detects this individual meets the criteria for time-space traversal." "Beep. Gender: Female. Name: Daisy Miller. Age: 26." "Are you willing to inherit the Universal Supermarket? You may choose to open this supermarket at any time, in any location." "Our goal is: For the gold coins. Please designate the time and location for this deployment." I thought of the stories my grandfather used to tell me when I was little. He talked about his older brother who went off to fight in the brutal winter war at sixteen, only to vanish into the freezing mountains without a trace. Whenever my grandfather mentioned his older brother, tears would stream down his weathered face. Without a second thought, I said, "Bind. Open it seventy years ago, right next to my great-uncle Arthur Miller's platoon." The System wailed, "I'm doomed! I'm going to lose everything on this run!" 3. Five minutes later, a voice called out from the storefront, "I'm changed, ma'am. You can come out now." I walked out to see my great-uncle wearing the brand-new, modern winter parka. He looked so awkward in it, unsure of where to put his hands. I waved my hand and tossed his old, ragged coat to the System. Weeping virtual tears, the System listed it on the Universal Supermarket network: "One heavily worn winter field jacket. Starting price: 1 gold coin." I looked at my great-uncle, thoroughly satisfied with his warm new look, and picked up the bowl of chicken noodle soup. I was about to heat it up for him. He stared at me nervously, terrified I was going back on my word. "The soup got cold," I explained. "I'm going to heat it up for you. Eating cold food will give you a stomachache." He snatched it right out of my hands, not even bothering with a fork. In one massive gulp, he drained the broth, then sucked down the noodles in three massive bites. My heart ached. It was obvious he had been starving for days. Knowing he wouldn't be full, I had preemptively soaked four extra blocks of noodles in the broth. When he finished, he licked his lips, unable to help himself. "No need to heat it, it was still warm. That was incredible. I bet even our Captain has never tasted soup that good." He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What you said earlier... trading a pack of frozen field rations for five big hot beef pies. Was that real, or were you just tricking me?" I nodded earnestly. "It's real. However much you have, I'll trade for it." He lowered his head, avoiding my eyes. He dug into his torn canvas rucksack for a long time before pulling out a block of frozen, rock-hard C-rations that barely weighed half a pound. The rations were completely frozen by the snow. He looked hesitant, unable to speak. I knew my great-uncle felt like he was ripping me off, but he desperately wanted to trade for the pies to save his freezing comrades. I snatched the block from his hands and weighed it in my palm. "Looks like about a pound to me. I'll take a little loss today and give you fifty hot beef pies." In my head, I quietly yelled, System, bring out the giant meat pies! The System: "..." I grabbed a massive, heavy-duty hiking backpack from a store shelf and stuffed all fifty steaming beef pies inside. I helped my great-uncle strap the backpack onto his shoulders. "Money and goods exchanged, we're all clear. Come find me next time you want to do business. No matter where you are, just walk 400 yards south and yell 'Daisy Miller'." My great-uncle looked at me with deep curiosity. "Are you an angel? Or a forest spirit? Did God send you to save us?" I shook my head. "Neither. If you don't leave now, you won't be able to catch up to your platoon." His eyes sparkled as he looked at me for a long moment. "You're a good lady. I'll remember you." Just as he stepped out the door, he turned back and shouted, "My last name is Miller too! I'm Arthur Miller. We took advantage of your kindness today, but if I get the chance, we will repay you!" My nose stung. I nodded. Not only do I know your last name is Miller... I know you are the ultimate pride of our entire family. 4. After my great-uncle left, I tossed the frozen block of rations to the System. "System, we need to wholesale a massive batch of food and medical supplies." The System sneered. "Does wholesale not cost money? You still owe me two gold coins for that parka you fronted." I scratched my head and smiled apologetically. "Don't you guys have a 'Beginner's Starter Pack'? Doesn't every System have one?" System: "I've lost four packs of noodles, fifty meat pies, and a high-end parka in a single morning, and you're asking me for a starter pack?" "Wait a minute!" Suddenly, both the System and I heard an electronic chime: "'One heavily worn winter field jacket' has been purchased. Transaction amount: 10,000 gold coins." ??? I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. "System... did you glitch out?" After repeatedly confirming there was no bug, the System skeptically listed the frozen block of rations: "'One block of snow-soaked field rations (possibly edible?)', Starting price: 1 gold coin." The very next second, the mechanical voice chimed again: "'One block of snow-soaked field rations (possibly edible?)' has been purchased. Transaction amount: 10,000 gold coins." The System let out an ear-piercing shriek. "Wholesale food and medicine! We MUST wholesale! I'm going to trade for every single ragged coat and frozen ration those soldiers have!" It muttered feverishly, "We're rich... we're so rich!" I was completely bewildered. Who had so much money and nowhere to spend it? Ten thousand gold coins for a torn jacket and a block of hardtack? Now that we were making money, the System's attitude toward me pulled a complete 180. It used to call me "Host," but now it affectionately called me "Boss Daisy." I stayed in the supermarket for a few days, growing more anxious by the hour. My great-uncle had been gone for a while. Why wasn't he coming back to find me? The temporal location I bound to was anchored to my great-uncle's physical coordinates, so I had the System scout out his small platoon. The entire unit had about two hundred people. The vast majority were heavily wounded, moving at a grueling, crawling pace through the snow. My great-uncle's mission back then was specifically to protect this convoy of wounded soldiers. 5. In the blinding blizzard, Arthur Miller pulled his last half-ration from his canvas bag. That girl named Daisy had given him an incredibly high-quality backpack. He couldn't bear to use it himself, so he gave it to Nurse Clara Hayes. Nurse Clara was an eighteen-year-old medic carrying the unit's rapidly depleting medical supplies. When Arthur returned, he noticed her medical bag had been shredded by tree branches, so he offered the trade. That day, when he pulled fifty steaming hot pies out in the freezing snow, Captain James Sterling's eyes almost popped out of his skull. The Captain dragged him aside and demanded to know what happened. Arthur told him everything, word for word. Captain Sterling's expression was grim. "What if this is an enemy trick? We don't know if these pies are poisoned. We cannot drop our guard for a single second!" Arthur thought of Daisy's kind, gentle face. The moment he met her, he felt an inexplicable, deep sense of family. But he couldn't disobey his Captain. The two of them stared at the bag of glorious, white, steaming beef pies in a tense deadlock. After a while, Sterling looked out at the starving, dying men clinging to their last breath. He sighed, randomly grabbed a pie, and took a massive bite. Arthur's eyes widened in horror. "Captain!" Sterling steeled his resolve, chewing the pie aggressively and swallowing hard. "If I'm not dead in an hour, distribute the pies to the men outside." "If I die, Corporal Danny Evans takes command. The convoy does not stop moving." It was a premium, hot, flaky crust. The inside was packed with rich, savory ground beef and gravy. The taste exploded in his mouth. Just one pie made him feel halfway full. For Arthur, that hour felt like an eternity. Finally, Captain Sterling let out a long, deep breath. "Take ten pies. Dig up some clean snow, boil it, and make a rich beef stew for everyone. Give the rest of the pies to Nurse Clara for safekeeping. No one eats a crumb without permission!" "Also, I just ate a whole pie. Don't count me in for rations for the next two days." Arthur quickly chimed in. "I ate a huge bowl of noodle soup at that girl's place. I won't eat for the next two days either." Sterling patted his shoulder. "Why are you comparing yourself to me? I'm an old man with meat on my bones. You're a growing kid. You need to eat!" Fifty meat pies sounded like a lot, but there were over two hundred starving mouths in the platoon. Yet, that warm, rich beef stew gave every single person the hope they needed to keep walking.
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