"It's the oil."

The goblin smiled and continued to stammer, "I used, used Waste Oil, the Waste Oil mixed with Green Hair Poison Wine!"

In an instant, the judges were taken aback, then marveled, applauding.

"A marvelous pairing!"

"Outstanding flavor!"

"Truly painstaking effort!"

Soon, the judges put down their empty bowls, wiped their mouths, then looked at each other. Hippo spoke up, "Regrettably, it's not up to standard!"

The gaunt man raised his hand. "Three points."

The one-eyed tentacle monster lifted a sign. "Four points."

The pale semi-transparent witch shook her head. "Two points."

Sitting at the back, a towering dark figure issued a deep voice, "One point."

Out of a perfect score of ten, not a single judge gave a passing mark.

"It can't, can't be possible!" The goblin shook his head blankly, staggering backward. "I, I, I..."

"I know what you want to ask—why we gave good reviews just now, right?" Hippo casually wiped his front teeth with a silk handkerchief, flicking away some food residue, and spoke disdainfully. "Simple. The ingredients you used are of the highest quality, clearly expensive, and your cooking skills are... barely passing, I guess. After all, as long as the ingredients are good enough, any poor culinary skills can still produce something passable. But there's one thing you absolutely do not have." Hippo raised a finger solemnly. "In your food, I cannot feel your Intention!"

He said, "Your cooking lacks heart!"

"Nonsense!"

The goblin, unable to accept such a ridiculous excuse, climbed onto the table in a rage and pointed at Hippo's face, shouting, "What damned Intention! What damned heart! Eating a meal, would the taste change if the chef is in a bad mood!"

"Ignorant."

"Superficial!"

"Pitiful..."

The judges didn't get angry but instead looked at the goblin with pity, as if he were a frog in a well.

At the very back, the mysterious shadow said coldly, "Too foolish, obsessed with the superficial and ignoring the essence... I ask you, what exactly is food?"

The goblin was stunned.

"There is only one answer."

The shadow raised a finger. "Food is the foundation of survival, a necessity for all living beings, an innate need in life, and an inseparable part of existence! For this reason, it has been imbued with numerous values and carries a multitude of expectations!"

The shadow's voice thundered, "If the innate desire of all creatures is to taste delightful food, then the dark cuisine required by the Chef Demon Competition represents the most primitive, ancient, and cruel essence of malevolence!"

"Do we need mere kitchen helpers, processors who only follow recipes to the letter like machines?"

The shadow looked around, posing a rhetorical question amidst the roaring of the spectators, and then said solemnly, "What we are waiting for is the essence forged by Disaster and despair! What we desire is the demon cuisine that delights our taste buds as we chew!"

"—And you, do not qualify!"

Under the shadow's decree, the goblin collapsed to his knees, his face turning ashen, but still unwilling to accept his fate. "I refuse to accept this! How can you say my cooking lacks heart!"

In his fury, his stammer vanished. "I refuse to accept this!"

The shadow gestured with a wave of his hand, indicating for the guards who had come onto the stage to step aside.

Shortly after, an indifferent Attendant stepped forward, placing down a plate.

"This is the leftover material from a previous contestant. If you truly possess the heart of a chef, then give it a try!"

The goblin stared blankly for a long time, looking at the broken chocolate mille-feuille in front of him, incredulous, unable to comprehend how this could surpass his own work.

But as he picked up a piece and placed it in his mouth, he was stunned.

His pale complexion turned cyanotic.

Incredulous.

Struck by lightning, as though he had gained some sudden enlightenment.

From his daze, a line of murky blood tears flowed.

"Why?" he cried out to the heavens. "Why is my son not my own flesh and blood! In what way am I lesser compared to the Goblin next door... Oh heavens, why!"

Weeping blood tears, he wailed loudly, choking up, suddenly snatched off his belt, wrapped it around the railing, and hung himself.

It didn't take long before he stopped moving.

Dead.

Huai Shi watched all this in a daze, seeing the remaining plate of chocolate mille-feuille on the floor, and couldn't help but gasp.

Is the heart of chefs in your dark culinary world really that powerful? I'm afraid if it were a bit more positive, it might even prolong life!

But in an instant, he paused, then came to a realization.

Wait, prolong life? Isn't that Alchemy? This means...

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

And up in the spectator seats, Raven couldn't help but shake his head and sigh. Only now does he realize? How slow-witted can this kid be?

That's right. In this so-called Chef Demon Competition, the unpalatable food is merely superficial. The true essence of competition lies in the malice and darkness that stem from the chefs themselves. To call it the 'Dark Culinary World' is nothing short of apt! And in this regard, you, a veritable negativity-generating machine… you should be like a fish in water!

***

As time slowly passed, the fifteen-minute period flashed by.

The competitors submitted their dishes one after another, with some advancing and others being swept out the door in utter defeat.

Gradually, in the end, only Huai Shi remained standing in the arena, his arms crossed before the Iron Pot.

Amidst the audience's impatience, Huai Shi lifted the lid of the pot, scooped up the boiling taro balls with a slotted spoon, pouring them over ice cubes to cool quickly. Then he took a large block of ice from the fridge. Spreading his hands, he grabbed two kitchen knives and a rapid WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! of chopping commenced.

The roaring noise even suppressed the jeers from the crowd.

After countless Ice Crystals had scattered, what remained were four evenly-sized ice bowls.

The finely chopped ice powder piled up on the cutting board, forming a small hill.

The hippo couldn't help but chuckle. "The young man's got quite a sense of ceremony."

"It'll end in failure anyway," the gaunt man said, withdrawing his gaze uninterestedly. "Frost Sand is nothing new."

Just on the brink of the countdown timer going off, Huai Shi efficiently filled the bowls with Frost Sand, placed the taro balls, and then sprinkled on whipped cream, chocolate sauce, matcha powder, and other toppings.

Four bowls of chilly Frost Sand were ready and set before the judges.

The witch looked at him coldly. "Little Brag, if you expect to rank with that subpar knife skill of yours, you've come to the wrong place… Putting on a show for so long, to serve up such trash, don't expect to score any points."

"Patience, please."

Huai Shi stepped back, revealing a smile. "It has yet to be infused with a Soul…"

As he spoke, Huai Shi raised his right arm in front of his chest, gently twisted his thumb, index finger, and ring finger together, as if dancing, and softly rotated his fingertips. A wisp of gray dust fell from his fingertips.

The posture was so sacred it seemed like a prayer.

Under the judges' astonished gazes, the Apocalypse flew over his elbow, landing evenly on the Frost Sand.

In an instant, it silently entered the layers of frost, as if it disappeared without a trace.

But in a blink, everyone felt it—this bowl of Frost Sand had changed!

It was as if it had a Soul!

"Blessing Frost Sand, please."

Huai Shi said with a smile, gesturing with his hand.

The hippo was taken aback for a moment, then frowned, scooped up a spoonful of Frost Sand, and tasted it. His expression froze in anticipation.

He quickly reacted, lifted the bowl of Frost Sand, and devoured it voraciously. In the end, he even stuffed the bowl into his mouth, crunching it loudly.

The crisp texture and intensely impactful flavor instantly spread throughout the venue, as if a wave of shared sensation.

No more commotion or jeers could be heard.

Everyone stood still, as if encased in ice.

Their faces turned ashen, their bodies convulsed violently, and they gradually lost all color, as if depleted by a long, arduous journey of toil and hardship, utterly exhausted.

"This is… this is…"

After a while, the hippo slowly lifted his head, a tear of nostalgia falling from his eye. "Ah, this cold shock and the overwhelming malice, the inescapable dejection and Sorrow… like the endless overtime and toil, the body being hollowed out amidst self-deceptive vigor… yet somehow within, an inexplicable feeling of joy emerges."

He picked up a napkin, wiping his eyes gently, regaining his composure, and judged sincerely,

"Exquisite!"

"Pure despair and malice! What a pure culinary Intention!"

The gaunt man had a taste and then ate no more, but in his eyes, a thrill seemed to flare up, giving a chilling sensation. "Ah, as if seeing a 996 worker coming home to find a stranger in bed with his wife! From anger to exhaustion, and in the end, choosing forgiveness... I actually felt a kind of relief as if, 'this isn't too bad.'"

The witch moved closer to the ice bowl, took a deep breath, and then shivered as if on drugs.

The ice bowl silently melted into water.

"Oh, oh, oh, this joy overflowing directly from the chef's heart, how nostalgic!" she pursed her lips. "The frost cleverly diluted its intensity, but made this happiness last longer… indeed, such satisfaction, worthy of the name 'Blessing.' Though the technique is immature, the creativity is admirable."

In the prolonged silence, only the chewing sound from the back lingered.

The massive dark figure leisurely tasted Huai Shi's dish, spoonful after spoonful, meticulously, until he gently set down the bowl.

This was the first sound he had made since pointing out the Goblin's flaws.

Just one word: "Passable."

Four scorecards were raised.

Seven points, seven points, eight points, six points.

Preliminaries, passed!

On the list of the top sixteen, a new name once again appeared.

Huai Shi, advanced!

"My apologies for the humble offering!"

Huai Shi tore off his apron and, smiling, turned to walk towards the resting room.

Unlike the bewilderment and unease from fifteen minutes earlier, his heart was now filled with calm and confidence. If one were to express it in words, it could very well be encapsulated in one phrase!

I'm destined to be the King of Chefs!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.