Kyle was still reeling from the effects of his raw taste test, staring at his notebook filled with an unbelievable list of magical effects. He was trying to figure out what his next move should be when a single comment, highlighted by a moderator, caught his eye.
HealthNut_Helen: KYLE! You're supposed to COOK IT! The synergistic effect is where the real magic is! A friend of mine tried it!
Kyle's eyes widened. "Cook it? It's even better when cooked?" He looked at the remaining produce. The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. "Chat, I dunno. I'm a professional eater, not a professional cooker. The last time I tried to make soup, I set off the smoke alarm. I don't want to ruin a forty-dollar carrot."
As he debated, another message exploded onto the screen, this one attached to a five-hundred-dollar donation, the bright colors and sound effects grabbing everyone's attention.
LeChefAntoine: NON! YOU IMBECILE! DO NOT TOUCH THOSE INGREDIENTS! You will RUIN them with your clumsy, ham-fisted techniques! That is not food for a barbarian to simply BOIL! That is food for an ARTIST! Tell me where you are! I am coming to you NOW to save those poor vegetables from your sacrilege!
The chat went into absolute meltdown.
WTF
$500 donation just to yell at him!
Is that guy for real??
Commit to the bit Chef! lol
Kyle was stunned speechless. "Is... is he serious?"
One of his moderators quickly typed in the mod-chat: **KYLE - That's Antoine Dubois. He has three Michelin stars. He's the personal chef for Arthur Hayes, the billionaire. His identity is verified. He is 100% legit.**
Kyle's jaw dropped. A world-famous chef, known for his fiery temper and god-tier skills, had just donated five hundred dollars to call him an imbecile on a live stream. This was the most surreal moment of his career.
"Uh... okay?" Kyle stammered, looking at his camera, then back at the chat. "Well, Chat... you heard the man. He... he wants my address?" The absurdity of the situation was overwhelming. He looked at the pile of pristine, magical vegetables. He knew the chef was right. He would ruin them.
He took a leap of faith. "Okay, Chef Antoine. You win. I'll... I'll DM my address to the mods, they can send it to you. The kitchen is yours."
Twenty-five minutes later, a black town car screeched to a halt in front of Kyle's suburban streamer house. An immaculate, furiously focused Chef Antoine, dressed in his crisp chef's whites and carrying a leather knife roll that probably cost more than Kyle's rent, stormed up to the door.
Kyle let him in, and the chef marched straight past him into the kitchen as if on a holy mission. He took one look at Kyle's generic cookware and scoffed, producing his own small, copper-bottomed pot from a bag.
"Water!" he commanded. "Do you have... the water?"
"Yeah! Yeah, I do!" Kyle said, grabbing two bottles of Clarity and handing them over reverently.
What followed was a masterclass. Chef Antoine didn't talk to Kyle; he talked to the ingredients. He sliced the vegetables with a speed and precision that was hypnotic. He didn't do anything complicated. A simple, slow simmer. A single pinch of fleur de sel he produced from his own pocket. But he did it all with a reverence and technique that transformed the simple act of making soup into high art.
The aroma that filled Kyle's house was otherworldly. It was ten times more potent, more complex than anything Leo had experienced in his own kitchen. Kyle, standing in the corner of his own kitchen trying to film with his phone, was openly salivating. His chat was a solid wall of "OMG," "HOLY," and food emojis.
When it was done, the Chef poured the soup into a bowl. The broth was a rich, shimmering sunset color. It looked alive.
"Eat," Antoine commanded, his voice trembling with a mixture of artistic pride and ravenous hunger. He had already prepared a second, smaller bowl for himself.
Kyle sat at his streaming desk, the camera focused tightly on the bowl. He took one spoonful.
It was not food. It was a religious experience.
The individual effects he'd felt before were no longer separate. They were a single, harmonious symphony of perfection. His vision was hyper-sharp, his body felt strong and clean, his mind was an oasis of perfect calm, and his soul was suffused with a deep, powerful joy. It was a system-wide, full-body upgrade. He felt like he could run a marathon and compose a symphony simultaneously.
He looked at the camera, his eyes wide with a new, profound understanding.
"Chat..." he whispered, his voice full of awe. "Forget everything I said before. We haven't just been bio-hacking. We've been playing in the kiddy pool." He looked down at the soup, then back at the camera. "This... this is the final boss."