He had never subscribed to 'friendship first, competition second.' If one were truly so virtuous and dedicated to proper conduct, why become a Chef Demon? Every single person who could be called a Chef Demon was, without exception, not a good sort.
Including Huai Shi himself.
Whether for gluttony, for satiation, or for some other messed-up reason, anyone who harbored such desires and dared to step into the Abyss, to delve into Hell—one could imagine with half a thought how abnormal they would be.
Even a normally harmless Negative Energy Producer like Huai Shi, when pushed, could unleash a large-scale Source Substance plague. What then of others who had long been unscrupulous?
Huai Shi met every gaze that dared to look their way, one by one.
Her eyes, brimming with countless negative Source Substances, transformed into the Abyss. As if burning with flames, they unabashedly emanated a terrifying aura, coldly implanting vast shadows into the consciousness of the offenders.
The countless curses of suffering from within the Divine Blade: Wrath and Hatred flashed by. Pure Disaster tore apart the weak pretense, baring its fangs and claws, finally bringing silence to the world.
Atop the high tower, the bell finally rang.
The Envoy from behind the curtain rose as usual, spouted some nonsense no one would pay attention to, and returned to his seat.
And Inu River's voice rang out once more.
"Both sides, with honor and dignity, fight to determine the victor!"
The Chef Demon duel officially began!
"Heh, the young are truly to be feared," the stooped old man in a Dongxia coat said, lifting his eyes from behind the cooking station. His wrinkled face bore a strange smile as he scrutinized his opponent. "When I was your age, I couldn't have achieved such things. I'm old, so old."
"If you're so old, why not just obediently crawl into the dustbin of history? Why make someone else go through the trouble of sweeping you away?" his opponent, the robust young man—Johnny Kujikane—retorted, looking up and openly showing his disgust at the old man's pretense.
In a word, this young man could be described as rugged.
His physique was solid but not burly, his muscles well-developed but not exaggerated. He had sun-tanned bronze skin, large joints, calloused hands, and short, neat hair.
He wore thick, greyish-white work trousers and a white undershirt; that was all.
Like a block of iron forged by a ten-thousand-ton press, he made no attempt to hide his toughness and indifference, merely stating in a cold voice, "The duel has begun. Don't waste time."
"Old folks like me tend to ramble. Don't be so harsh, young man," Guo ShouQue said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Young people who don't know their limits always need to suffer a bit to learn respect for their elders."
"PTUI!" Johnny turned his head and spat crudely on the ground. After wiping it away with his foot, he tilted his head back and sneered, "Old devil, times are changing, you know? The old ways don't work anymore! Your whole set of seniority-based shamanistic practices is long outdated! The twenty-third century is the age of industry! No, the age of humanity is the age of industry!"
"Absolute precision, absolute standards, absolute output... These are the criteria for victory!"
He raised his hand, clenched his fist, and enunciated each word, "Old devils left behind by the times should just obediently crawl back to their shacks and cook porridge!"
That was, undeniably, an incredibly powerful and hardcore stance.
Simply standing there, for a brief, dazed moment, one could almost feel the roar and rumble of factories, imagine countless acrid dust particles forming a grey mist, rising from a forest of smokestacks, obscuring the sky, blanketing the earth.
It was the magnificent spectacle brought about by mass production, the brutal beauty inherited from industry.
This was indeed the essence of Industrial Cuisine.
Even if it was just a fleeting illusion, it was still enough to make one understand: this man was no unknown, but a formidable expert who had come here possessing absolute power and skill.
Anyone who dared to belittle or scorn him would pay the price!
To this, Guo ShouQue merely smiled, looking at him kindly, as if at a misbehaving Little Brag.
"Then, this old man shall wait and see."