"Hey, how are you doing that?" one player messaged."Reported for exploiting," another popped up.
Suddenly, the screen froze. The bustling noise cut to a deafening silence. A single, red box appeared in the center of his monitor: MY RESTAURANT OP AUTOFARM SCRIPT
The restaurant, once a place of steady rhythm, turned into a blur of supernatural efficiency. The waiters didn't walk; they teleported. Plates of "Shrimp Scampi" appeared on tables before the customers even sat down. The money counter at the top of Leo’s screen began to spin so fast the digits became a white smear. "Hey, how are you doing that