Vol. 10
The battlefield had been torn apart by clashes of unimaginable scale. Yet, at this moment, there was no war, no blood, no dominance. Instead, there was fire, scent, and silence.
Hyung Fyi stood calmly, his expression as cold and composed as ever, while flames danced in his palm. He didn't summon weapons nor destructive reality-shattering powers—he summoned pans, knives, and a set of cooking tools that appeared from the depths of his Ω∞D Pocket.
Thea Heesae blinked, her blue eyes wide.
"W–Wait… is he… cooking?"
Even Kyusugi Tyo, the eternal Ω Reversal who once disdained all mortal trivialities, narrowed his eyes. For the first time in eternity, his composure wavered.
"You… are wasting time. And yet… why does the fragrance pierce through the very laws of existence?"
The fragrance drifted, richer than galaxies, warmer than suns. Each stir of Hyung Fyi's hand bent time and reality, not to destroy, but to perfect flavor. Vegetables chopped themselves at his will, meats cooked evenly under a divine flame, sauces shimmered with particles of infinity.
Hyung Fyi finally spoke, his voice steady:
"Eat."
He placed the dishes before them.
Thea's lips trembled as she took the first bite. A warmth spread instantly, not only through her body, but her timeline itself.
"So… delicious…!" she gasped. Her tears welled, her emotions resonating so strongly that countless dormant timelines bloomed like flowers.
Kyusugi Tyo followed, tasting with suspicion. Yet when the food touched his tongue, the impossible occurred—his Ω Core stuttered.
"…This… cannot be measured."
Around them, soldiers, civilians, even wandering beasts who were drawn by the fragrance tasted Hyung Fyi's food. Every bite restored HP, stamina, spirit, luck, and resistance, beyond any known limit. Buffs arose that even systems could not calculate. Yet, unlike divine or cursed meals of legends, there were no side effects—only purity.
"Hyung Fyi… thank you!" many voices echoed. Some knelt in gratitude. Others laughed in joy. For the first time, those who feared his cold dominance felt warmth.
Hyung Fyi simply sat down, his tone calm, indifferent, but undeniably firm:
"It's nothing. Eat. Live. Strength means little without the will to share."
The feast continued, and even the strongest of sovereigns and villains could not deny it—Hyung Fyi's cooking transcended not only taste, but the very meaning of existence.
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