Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

night.

Metropolitan, Times Square, the scene of a competitive eating contest.

"Uncle Harrington, you're here too?" Wayne waved and greeted him with a smile.

Harrington, his face flushed, was clearly in high spirits. As if knowing what Wayne was thinking, he responded across the crowd:

"Yes! The company's operations in the metropolitan area are running normally, and no problems were found in the audit of those expenses!"

"That's good." Wayne looked around at the enthusiastic competition venue.

Under the cover of night, inside the building, passionate jazz music filled the air, crowds surged and cheered, and spotlights shone brightly.

In this lively atmosphere, my mind was at peace.

Harrington glanced at the congressmen at the long table, who were swallowing repeatedly, and shouted loudly at Wayne:

"How's the atmosphere in the Metropolitan Eating Contest? It's got a ton of eating to its heart's content, isn't it? Even city councilors have to give it their all, otherwise they have no chance of winning!"

Wayne's eyes were fervent, his mind only focused on filling his stomach, and he responded loudly amidst the noise:

"That's absolutely amazing! I'd love to go on stage and compete with those competitive eaters among the councilors!"

Harrington gave a thumbs up, then remarked:

"I'm not really interested in food. Look at contestant number 69 on stage, she's the only girl, and everyone's cheering for her. I'd like to contribute some food to her and participate. Actually, my cooking skills are pretty decent, haha."

Wayne smiled, nodded, leaned closer, and asked loudly:

"Uncle Harrington, can I still participate now?"

Harrington chuckled, enjoying the music as he shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Of course! Young Master, you probably don't know this, but although this eating contest is organized by the city councilor, the Weber family's company is one of the funders. Participation is no problem at all!"

A municipal councilor...is spearheading a competitive eating contest?

Who would have thought that these people at the pinnacle of power would also have such a liberated and natural side?

The venue was Times Square, with so many five-star chefs, city councilors participating, celebrity foodies, and promotional campaigns covering the entire city.

It must be a huge expense.

Wayne sighed:

"Haha, I see! Your company's business is really booming!"

Harrington pointed ahead and shouted:

"Let's go, young master! Let's keep heading towards the arena; maybe we can get in before the competition ends! You go eat your food! I'll go cook!"

"Okay!" Wayne replied, his eyes filled with anticipation.

The two then quickened their pace, squeezing through the crowd, and hurried toward the elevated platform in the distance.

Wayne wanted to say something more to Harrington, but the surrounding noise was so loud that it completely drowned out Harrington's voice.

Suddenly.

Wayne felt as if he was being locked onto by a gaze, a gaze that seemed very familiar.

He instinctively wondered who was watching him.

Amidst the surging crowd, his gaze darted back and forth, searching for that particular gaze, that particular look, among the densely packed heads.

They searched left and right, but couldn't find any clues.

Just when they were about to give up.

He inadvertently glanced at a corner of the wall on one side of the square and saw a blonde woman standing there.

That's the edge of Times Square.

By chance, Wayne caught a glimpse of her face through the flash of the spotlight.

She wore a preppy, fitted dress and was twirling the ends of her blonde hair with her fingers. She appeared unusually calm and out of place amidst the cheering crowd.

She is Charlotte.

Wayne immediately stood on tiptoe, waved to Charlotte, and called out her name loudly.

The distance was too great; the other person seemed unable to hear.

But Charlotte just happened to turn her head and meet his gaze.

Wayne looked excited and was about to say something loudly.

Before she could even speak, Charlotte's eyes widened in horror, as if she had discovered something unbelievable. Then, with a cold expression, she turned and left.

Why?

Why is she so cold? What is she afraid of?

Even though we were far apart, she clearly saw me.

I think I've forgotten something important, something important related to her...

Forget about that now, I need to hurry up and participate in the eating contest before it ends.

Wayne continued to push forward with the crowd.

along the way.

Whenever Wayne's gaze turned toward the center of Times Square, the gray-haired girl on the central platform would appear before his eyes.

It was as if it were projected directly onto the retina.

Even though they were two or three hundred meters apart, the gray-haired girl seemed to be sitting right in front of him.

It looks as big as it does up close, even from a distance.

Every movement, every chew and swallow, took place in front of him.

Although the actual distance is far, the gray-haired girl appears to be very close to you.

Under this distorted visual effect, the gray-haired girl appears like a giant in the entire scene, while the surrounding frenzied crowd looks like ants.

It's something that just won't go away, something that's truly... both far away and right before your eyes.

The referee on stage was still giving his commentary into the microphone, his passionate voice mingling with the cacophony of jazz music.

"The competition is nearing its end! This eating contest featured four councilors, six directors from major companies, and our star foodie contestant, number 69. Who will emerge victorious?"

The cheers from the crowd grew even louder, overwhelming and resounding.

The closer you get to the center of Times Square, the more dazzling the spotlights become.

Wayne kept weaving through the crowds, moving towards the center of the square.

I looked up.

Under the distorted visual imaging effect, the densely packed little figures all swarmed towards the gray-haired girl, their enthusiasm running high.

The little figures, regardless of age or gender, cheered and raised their arms higher, frantically running back and forth, plating the food, trying to serve the gray-haired girl more delicacies.

If the gray-haired girl takes a small bite, the little men and women who offered the food cheer and jump for joy, embracing and celebrating. Some even shed tears of gratitude, dancing on the spot, overwhelmed with happiness.

However, the gray-haired girl never gave a second glance to the crowded little people around her.

Wayne longed to rush onto the stage and join those big-eater councilors to enjoy the food to his heart's content.

As the crowd surged around him, he got closer and closer to the center of Times Square.

He was surprised to find that as the distance closed, the gray-haired girl's figure was shrinking, seemingly gradually returning to its normal image size.

Gradually, the flow of people around me stopped surging forward and slowly came to a halt.

Wayne was also forced to stop in the crowd.

He stood on tiptoe to look and saw that Times Square was already packed with a frenzied crowd of cheering people.

Not only was Times Square packed, but the surrounding streets were also completely jammed.

On the platform in the center of the square, the gray-haired girl sat at the head of the wooden table, gently wiping her pink lips with a tissue before slowly standing up.

The referee on the platform then announced:

"Match over!"