Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

Following the strange noises, Wayne found the old chef who had started the conversation, opened his mouth, and asked:

Uncle, can you hear something talking?

However, due to the excessive noise in the environment, Wayne could not confirm whether he had made a sound, because although he opened his mouth to ask a question, he did not hear his own voice.

However, the old chef acted as if nothing was wrong, skillfully cooking while explaining things to Wayne with a smile.

The elderly chef spoke fluently and with a warm expression. Judging from his eyes and demeanor, he didn't seem to be answering Wayne's question, but rather simply continuing to introduce Wayne to various ingredients and dishes.

Wein could not hear the old man's voice; his lip movements did not even resemble any known language.

However, one thing seems certain: I either didn't make a sound, or the sound I made wasn't heard by the old man.

Otherwise, the old man would answer the questions instead of continuing to describe the food.

Not right either.

If I've misunderstood... this old man isn't introducing the food, but rather answering my question?

Wayne looked at the ingredients and dishes next to the old chef.

In the blink of an eye, it felt as if everything on the preparation table had come to life.

The plate of glistening, plump purple grapes trembled slightly, chattering and laughing, as they gently rolled along the edge of the white porcelain plate toward the small pot of syrup beside it.

The shrimp in the white porcelain bowl were plump and tender, wriggling together as if supporting each other, jumping towards the wok next to them. Some even jumped directly into the boiling broth, instantly releasing their flavor.

The most eye-catching thing was the silver cod in the ice platter. It glanced at Wayne mockingly, its mouth opening and closing as if it were laughing at something. Then, with a light flick of its tail, it slid out of the ice platter and moved along the cutting board toward the frying pan.

The old man ignored it, perhaps out of habit, and simply continued to stir-fry, adding seasonings to enhance the flavor.

Without exception, the final "expression" of those ingredients was one of satisfaction.

Before long, a dish of "Stuffed Shrimp with Grape Syrup" was served. The sweetness of the grape syrup, the freshness of the shrimp, and the richness of the cod were perfectly combined, creating an enticing color and a delightful aroma.

In the plates on the serving table next to it.

A perfectly ripe sheep's head opened and closed its mouth, its deep voice constantly maintaining order:

"You delivery people, keep order, one by one, don't break the line."

A marinated cow's head excitedly called out to the other meat dishes on the plates:

"Come, come here, all of you. I'll make arrangements for you. Tell me which person you all want to be sent up."

The other pork knuckles and steaks responded, each choosing their favorite tycoon's son and daughter, ready to be served on stage and eaten.

One of the plates, with a horse's head on it, noticed the freshly made "Stuffed Shrimp with Cod" and asked:

"Fish, whoever you want sent up there, I'll arrange it for you!"

On the plate, the pan-fried cod glanced at Wayne, then called out to the horse's head:

"Haha, that's him, that's him! I think he's quite interesting!"

Wayne stared blankly at the silver cod, its eyes and forehead protruding strangely, its teeth sharp, concealing the chilling depths of the ocean.

It doesn't resemble cod at all; rather, it looks like some kind of deep-sea fish...

The horse head on the plate glanced at Wayne, then laughed loudly at the cod:

"Haha, great! That's him then!"

The next second, Wayne saw the old chef smiling as he walked towards him with a plate of "Fresh Portuguese Cod Stuffed with Shrimp".

He didn't understand the situation.

All I could see were sheep's heads, cow's heads, horse's heads, pig's heads, steaks, pork knuckles, and even vegetables and fruits all sizzling around in the pots and pans.

They wriggled and trembled amidst the rich aroma, seemingly inviting Wayne to help carry the cod onto the stage, chattering incessantly in a chaotic mess:

"Go, go! This is the greatest honor of your life!"

"Haha, Fish! You did it! We're so proud of you!"

……

Wayne saw the young ladies and noblemen of the conglomerates each receive their dishes. They were dressed elegantly and appropriately, in formal suits and adorned with gold and jewels. They looked honored and bowed repeatedly to express their gratitude for the dishes in their hands, their posture humble.

pleasure.

So, Wayne subconsciously took the "Fresh Grape Cod Stuffed with Shrimp" from the old man's hand. It was heavy and smelled very fragrant.

It is truly an honor to be able to appear on stage in such an occasion.

He turned his gaze to the fried cod on the plate; its bulging eyes seemed to be watching him, mocking and contemptuous.

The cod on the plate was also inviting him, urging him on:

"Stop looking! Stop looking! The food's on the plate, someone's going to eat it!"

Wayne looked up and saw the chefs around him making way for him.

Suddenly, he felt some chefs behind him patting his shoulder, seemingly cheering him on, and gently supporting his shoulder and pushing him up the steps to the competition stage.

Another moment of distraction.

Wayne found himself standing on the competition platform alongside the group of wealthy young men and women delivering food, holding the "Fresh Portuguese Cod Stuffed with Shrimp" dish in his hand.

The view here is expansive, and under the sweeping spotlights, you can take in the entire Times Square and the crowds on the surrounding streets.

The crowd reveled, raising their arms to cheer for the contestants on stage.

The competition has not yet reached its climax, but this position has already attracted much attention.

Before Wayne was an extremely long, enormous wooden table.

The wooden table was piled high with almost no two dishes being the same.

A row of middle-aged and elderly people, dressed in suits and ties and looking presentable, sat at a wooden table.

Ignoring the oil stains on their expensive suits and shirts, they buried their heads in their plates, eating heartily with great satisfaction in their chewing and swallowing.

Senator Evans was among them, looking completely absorbed in the enjoyment.

At the head of the wooden table sat a gray-haired girl.

She filled Wayne's field of vision, crystal clear, as if she were right in front of his face.

Her thin, light pink lips were slightly oily, and she wore a plain, light gray cotton dress with a gray-blue coarse cloth apron around her neck. Her long, dark gray wavy hair was fluffy and voluminous, blowing out to both sides.

She ate slowly and gracefully, without any rush.

But she eats at an oddly fast pace; after just a small bite, the food on her plate is gone in an instant.

She glanced at Wei En.

Uncontrollably and instinctively, Wayne lowered his head to avoid eye contact, his gaze falling on the cod on his plate.

In the center of the plate, the already cooked cod opened and closed its mouth again, stringing strands of syrupy sauce, as if mocking:

"Haha, you're on the plate too, you're going to get eaten soon! But it's your honor! Haha! Go on, go on! We'll keep each other company on the road to the underworld!"

It's an honor, an honor.

Wei En took a deep breath to calm himself.

He saw that the referee had already started using a microphone to introduce the event, seemingly to the audience the food delivery interaction during the match, and also seemingly to introduce the young masters and ladies who were serving the food.

He saw the well-dressed young master of the conglomerate, carrying a plate, excitedly step forward and place the dishes in front of the gray-haired girl.

The gray-haired girl simply picked up her knife and fork and took a bite.

When the young master of the conglomerate saw that the food he had brought had been eaten, he jumped up and down excitedly, tears streaming down his face, so grateful that he almost fainted. He then knelt on the ground, dragging his weak legs, and crawled off the stage.

It's as if the gray-haired girl isn't eating the food on the plate, but rather the mind of the person delivering the food.

The daughters and sons of the wealthy families in front all acted in this manner.

Soon it was Wayne's turn.

Wayne saw the referee walking towards him, patting him on the shoulder enthusiastically, seemingly to encourage him, and then slowly pushing him toward the gray-haired girl.

It is my great honor.

He thought this. He was certain of it. He had no doubt whatsoever.

With a slight sense of joy and a faint smile on his face, Wayne walked toward the gray-haired girl carrying the "Fresh Grape Cod Stuffed with Shrimp".

The gray-haired girl noticed Wayne, stopped eating, turned to face him, and smiled gently with her eyes crinkled.

Wayne simply carried his tray past the row of contestants in suits and ties, and was already close to Senator Evans, who was frantically chewing and swallowing.

He saw that Senator Evans's lips were shiny with grease, he saw Senator Evans turn his head and wave to greet him, and he felt Senator Evans's enthusiasm.

He carried the tray to the gray-haired girl and slowly placed it on the wooden table.

The gray-haired girl sat obediently and cleverly, her smile radiant: "We meet again! You smell so good!"

When Senator Evans saw Wayne bringing the food, he was overjoyed and prepared to take the plate from Wayne's hand.

Seeing this, Wayne also released one hand and handed the plate to Congressman Evans.

Unexpectedly, Senator Evans was slow to reach out, and before they knew it, the two of them lost their balance.

As Wayne placed the plate on the wooden table, the plate in his hand lacked support and tilted at too large an angle, spilling a little soup onto the wooden table in front of the gray-haired girl.

The cod on the plate cried out in alarm, "Ahhh! The soup's spilled! The soup's spilled! You'll be punished!"

Congressman Evans seemed to have also noticed the cod's cries. In a panic, he humbly apologized to the cod while frantically searching for tissues, not daring to look at the gray-haired girl at all.

Wei En was also inexplicably flustered, reaching into his pants pocket as he said:

"It's my problem... paper, paper, I have tissues."

tissue……

Paper……

Wayne reached into his pants pocket and rummaged around, but couldn't find any tissues.

But a crumpled piece of paper fell out of his pants pocket and landed on the ground.

The crumpled paper was made from a torn piece of newspaper.

Letters were visible on the surface of the crumpled paper, with blurry penmanship between them, but these were not clearly visible under the spotlight.

The gray-haired girl tilted her head and asked softly, "Are you ready to be eaten by me...?"

At this moment, Wayne stood next to the gray-haired girl, looking down at the familiar crumpled paper on the ground, somewhat puzzled.

Even in such a noisy and frenzied atmosphere, the crumpled paper looked so familiar that it brought Wayne to a moment of calm.

The paper fell so precisely, as if guided and facilitated by some inexplicable influence.

Wayne's doubts gradually turned into vigilance.

As the crumpled paper fell, two vague pieces of information lingered in his mind in the form of concepts.

Wayne realized he seemed to have grasped something, like encountering an endless island while drifting on a boundless ocean.

The island has always been there.

This island is crucial.

'Stop her sister Rosalind from coming to the Metropolis.'

"Crush the Soul Amber Wood to try and regain a sliver of clarity."

Wayne felt the two concepts emerging in his mind, like two commands.

He didn't know who left these two instructions, nor what their purpose was.

He had no time to think, nor could he come to any conclusions.

But he was certain that these two instructions held a high priority in his subconscious.

Just follow the instructions and procedures.

Action plan, action plan...

Although I don't know what Soul Amber Wood is, the process should be like this...

So, Wei En suddenly ripped off the string of dark blue beads from his wrist, and with all his might, instinctively mobilized his arm muscles to their physiological limits, smashing the string of dark blue beads onto the wooden table.