I'm really a serious wizard.

The wind was quite noisy today, and the cold air it whipped up blew against Ron's body, raising goosebumps.

Perhaps the ocean currents and climates are not connected, perhaps the continental climate has already been ruined by the "Sky Castle", or perhaps it is due to geographical location.

At the end of December, winter should have already arrived, but in Gear City and the City of All Nations, there was no sign of snow at all.

"Who cares? Whether it snows or not, it won't give me a single piece of the Golden Lion."

Ron muttered something under his breath, hiding his chin in his long collar.

After the meeting ended two days ago, studying hard and improving his rank became Ron's primary goal.

Doing good deeds and acts of kindness is undoubtedly a way to accumulate experience and skill.

In response, he specifically consulted Vivian about whether anyone within the Federation was living in dire straits.
The vulnerable groups who are so poor that they can't even afford clothes need his generous donations.

Unfortunately, the vampire girl told him that Park Chang was breaking the law within the Federation and could easily be accused of rape.

Ron's face turned pale with fright, and he decided to change his approach and rid the people of this menace.

drip-

Have you brought the goods?

A notification sound came from the secret communicator in my hand.
After seeing the message, Ron glanced at the black body bag placed on the ground and replied with only two words in a cold tone.

Where's the money?

drip-

"As long as you bring that guy's body here, you won't be shortchanged."

Someone will point you in the right direction to the sewer entrance at your feet.

The sewer entrance. So mysterious.
Ron was contacted by high-ranking rebel leaders, a group of people who believed in an evil god.

Since capturing the chef known as the "dark cuisine master," he has extracted relevant information from him.
However, due to his efforts to rescue Verex, Ron had to postpone the rendezvous plan until now.

Ron tightened the cat paw bracelet on his wrist and scanned his surroundings.
After confirming that he was being secretly watched, he casually lifted the manhole cover and leaned inside.

vomit~
Suddenly, an extremely nauseating odor surged up and rushed straight into Ron's brainstem.

He couldn't help but gag, and saw the sewer pipes covered in grime and grease.

With a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Ron suppressed the urge to turn and leave, and quickly landed in the sewer.

What he saw was not as cramped as he had imagined, but rather unusually spacious.

The walls on both sides are made of red bricks and are about five or six meters wide.

Are those rebels playing a trick on me?!

Ron, disguised as a demon, glanced around and spotted a sign with a pointing arrow hanging on a dirty wall a few dozen meters away.

Is this telling me to follow along?
Stepping on the greasy, dirty, and grimy brick floor, Ron followed the arrow markings, twisting and turning, and walked for about a kilometer before finally seeing a glimmer of light ahead.

At this moment, the surrounding environment had shed its grime, and a gentle breeze was blowing, indicating good ventilation.

As the view opened up, a sprawling underground town came into view.

Ron was stunned, and a bad feeling suddenly came over him.

Why lead yourself to this seemingly complicated stronghold when you're just making a rendezvous?
Before he could think it through, he suddenly felt someone spying on him from the corner.

He turned his head sharply and looked closely, and saw an old man with a white beard wearing a black robe that covered most of his face.

"As expected of the master of the dark cuisine world, he noticed my gaze instantly."

The man first praised her in an aged voice, then glanced at the body bag Ron was carrying.

Seeing this, Ron said coldly:
"If you want the goods, you have to pay first."

After all, this is the hard-earned money I got from selling myself.
He silently added the second half of the sentence in his mind.

"Okay, come with me."

Without uttering a word, the old man seemed to have confirmed Ron's identity, simply nodding slightly before leading him into the town.

"I heard there's been some trouble in the world of bizarre cooking recently?"

As they walked, the old man suddenly started a conversation.

"Uh, yeah, I heard it's quite serious."

Ron caught his breath slightly and replied perfunctorily.

He had no idea about the world of dark cuisine, and was clearly taken aback by the sudden question.

The old man suddenly stopped, remaining silent like a statue.
At the same time, Ron inexplicably felt countless eyes sweeping around him.

Even though it wasn't his first time infiltrating a cult camp, Ron couldn't help but feel a chill.

They suspected that their verbal responses were too sloppy, which led to their identity being exposed.

Just then, he suddenly saw the old man turn his head and snort coldly:

"Excuse me, you've taken the wrong turn. There's a dead end ahead."

Hey, if you've taken the wrong road, you've taken the wrong road, why are you making such a fuss?!

Ron's lips twitched, and he silently withdrew the magical light hidden in his palm.

Seeing that the old man was still standing there without moving, his thoughts raced, and he said in a deep voice:
"Just say what's on your mind. I don't believe anyone can get lost in their own home."

Having ruled out all other possibilities, Ron could only guess that the old man who made the contact did it on purpose.

As expected, upon hearing this, the old man in the black robe clapped his hands:

"As expected of the master of the dark cuisine world, he was able to easily understand my hidden intentions."

You don't understand a thing! You've practically written it all over your face!
“I am one of the four leaders of the resistance, Ferguson.”

"I'm sure you've heard of my great name before."

Sorry, I've never heard of that before.
Ron muttered to himself.

The old man paused, then continued:
"To tell you the truth, you haven't actually completed the task I assigned you, so you won't receive any reward."

"So, you're not planning to pay the final payment?"

Ron, disguised as a demon chef, asked in a cold and eerie tone.

"No, no, no, you misunderstand. Bringing that guy here is only one reason. We also need you to cook a delicious meal."

"For chefs in the world of 'dark cuisine,' this is just a piece of cake."

Brother, what grudge do we have? I'm not Tang Sanzang, why would you eat my feathers?

Such bloody and cruel words made Ron's eyelids twitch.

The old man seemed to sense Ron's confusion and raised his hands in a slightly fanatical manner, saying:
"This is the only chance to get close to the Primordial Lord. We need to merge that guy with us so that the Primordial Lord can easily detect us, and then we can truly meet the gods!"

"So, what do you think? This idea was mine, isn't it brilliant!?"

Whatever makes you happy.
As a dish, Ron clearly protested against it.

However, after learning from the mistress that the "Lord of a Thousand Faces and Ten Thousand Visions" had gone mad from being frightened by the apocalypse, he always felt sympathy for people with intellectual disabilities.

It seems that these people who believe in evil gods have not fully gained the approval of the "Lord of a Thousand Faces and Myriad Visions".

More often than not, they gained some benefits amidst the chaos and madness of the other side, using this to build their influence and win over those dissatisfied with the Federation.

Compared to the Pain Cult, which only has villains and tortures its own people, the rebels seem to truly embody the spirit of cultists.

They cheat people out of their money, lust after women, and commit murder; they have absolutely no morals to speak of.

"No problem, as long as you pay."

Ron said coldly.

Upon hearing this, Ferguson finally revealed his gleaming white teeth.

Seeing that Ron didn't waste any words and turned to leave, he quickly grabbed him and said:
"Wait, there's one more thing!"

"Could I specify which part of the ingredient?"

Ferguson rubbed his hands together, and seeing Ron's surprised look, chuckled:
"I want to eat the large intestine of the ingredients."

?

"Damn it! Are you crazy?!" Even the mild-mannered Ron couldn't help but curse inwardly upon hearing this.

He never expected that he would encounter so many perverts after leaving the Kingdom of Oran.

Suppressing the urge to kill Ferguson, Ron sighed and said:

"why?"

He was genuinely curious about what these perverts were thinking.

Ferguson chuckled:
"I just like this kind of food. It's considered a niche dish even in your world of 'dark cuisine'."

"."

-

Ron had no idea how he got to the center of the underground town.

There were several large pots already prepared, with all sorts of seasonings, and even a strict rule that cilantro was not allowed.

He glanced at the hundred or so cult members below the stage, and the three leaders standing in front of them.

The resistance, or rebels, was a loosely structured underground organization.

After years of suppression by the federal government, it has moved from the open to the covert.

They await establishing contact with the originator, obtaining divine power, and thereby overthrowing the Federation's rule.

In addition to the four leaders, the rebels also have a hidden chief who is rarely seen.

He was the one who established the earliest rebel army, and the four leaders only took charge on his behalf.

As for why only three leaders were present, Ron already knew a little about it after overhearing the conversation of the underground core cultists.

"Finally, we can avenge Leader Roland!"

“These despicable outsiders have actually killed the leader of Roland. They are unforgivable.”

Roland, the powerful cultist who attacked him at the dock.

Fine, whatever makes you happy.
With a slight sigh, Ron glanced at Ferguson and his two companions beside him.

The leader of the Jess, whose entire body was shrouded in a black robe, seemed to have transformed into an unknowable shadow, with large bulges appearing and disappearing within the robe.

The leader of the Earlley, whose entire body was wrapped in black cloth and whose race was unknown, gave Ron an extremely dangerous feeling.

He had experienced this familiar danger before, in someone else.

The previous pope of the Holy Light Church was Cyrus VII.

Gods are qualified to grant power and elevate the rank of believers.

However, due to the uniqueness of divinity, the top-tier legendary status is already the limit.

Given the chaotic nature of the "Lord of a Thousand Faces and Myriad Visions," it is not impossible to actively approach him in some way and receive a gift of power.

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up and do it!"

At this moment, Earlley, who felt a sense of danger towards Ron, urged him impatiently.

Ron ignored him and untied the black bag, revealing a blond boy inside who looked exactly like him.

As the saying goes, if you're going to put on a show, go all the way.

Looking at himself lying on the cutting board with his hair disheveled and his eyes lifeless, Ron felt somewhat complicated.

Today, let me add some extra flavor to your meal!

To deal with these cultists, there's no need to talk about holy light and morality; just poison them and that's it.

Ron calmed himself down, used meditation techniques to steady his mind, and began to summarize the key points of being a good person.

This was found on the demon chef.

Ron has experimented and found that just one drop is enough to cause signs of corrosion in steel bars.

He believed that if it went into the stomach, no one could withstand such terrifying chili oil.

After pouring all the chili oil into the pot and stirring it a couple of times, Ron took advantage of the gaps in his robes to put the broken white candle pieces into the soup.

"Darkness Leaves 3.0" can effectively weaken the enemy's strength.

Seeing that the time was almost right, Ron smiled slightly.

He picked up the various bottles and jars of seasonings from the stove, a subtle blue light flashing in his hand.

Salt, pepper, sugar, soy sauce, and other seasonings were all transformed into heavy metal powders used in alchemy plants and etching solutions used in industry.

He refused to believe that he couldn't kill these guys.

At that moment, a cry of alarm came from among the cult members.

"Look, no wonder he's a chef in the world of 'dark cuisine'! The soup... the soup is glowing!"

"And they're all colorful!"

Upon hearing this, Ron smiled with great satisfaction.

"This is called Five Blessings Arriving at the Door. Whoever drinks this soup will surely have all their wishes fulfilled and be happy for a lifetime!"

The three rebel leaders' eyes lit up slightly upon hearing this.

One nodded in satisfaction, one shifted his posture slightly, and the other merely nodded slightly.

Seeing that the soup was almost ready, Ron divided the colorful soup evenly into a hundred or so large bowls.

The cultists took it for themselves, while the three leaders received it personally from Ron.

"You have to drink soup by the side."

He picked up the soup bowl and slurped it all down in one gulp.

"This is dry, so you have to dip it in salt and pepper to eat it properly."

As he spoke, he pulled a small bag of salt and pepper from his pocket, dipped it in the meat, and began to chew with relish, clearly a seasoned gourmet.

Jess, whose figure is not clearly visible, has a different style altogether.

He tossed the soup bowl through the hood into his empty face, and with a strange chewing sound, Ron heard a muffled praise.

"good."

As for the extremely dangerous Earlley, the two were much more cautious in comparison.

He first took a light sniff of the soup, then sipped it and smacked his lips a couple of times.

"wrong!"

Suddenly, Earl, the strongest among them who gave Ron a faint sense of danger, let out a strange cry.

"There's something wrong with this soup!"

Snapped--

The porcelain bowl was suddenly smashed to the ground, and Ron's heart tightened, as if he were being watched by some kind of wild beast.

To be honest, he didn't understand where he had given himself away.

Was it poisoning?

No, the chili oil has masked the taste of those heavy metal toxins.

Is it because it tastes terrible?

That's not right either. Aren't chefs in the world of "dark cuisine" famous precisely because their food is terrible?
Just as Ron was stunned, Earlley shouted, word by word:

"No chef in the world of culinary disasters could possibly make such delicious and flavorful soup. Who are you?!"

Your cooking skills proficiency +1

A notification suddenly popped up in front of him, and Ron felt a sharp pain in his head.

He knew that the deadpan interface was acting up again.

Since reaching the level of a master chef, I seem to be able to never make bad food.

Damn it! (End of Chapter)