It is said that at the beginning, all life could emerge from the water.

In the scholars' vision, it requires a barren planet, a vast ocean, intense heat and endless rainfall, and millions of years.

In the heat and humid air, the ocean boils ceaselessly, gradually cools, and then the most basic prokaryotic cells are born from the most primitive chemicals.

This is the origin of life.

At that time, all things emerge from this primitive soup, and thus survive, develop, and grow...

Perhaps the scholars are right, and it is indeed possible for life to be born this way.

Unfortunately, Guo ShouQue never got to see it.

Even if he ventures into the ranch owner's domain, deep beneath the Paradise of Bliss into the Abyss, he finds no soil sufficient to create life.

Ultimately, all he gets is this wreck that had already failed to nurture life millions of years ago.

A pot of decayed primitive soup.

What should have brought the miracle of life has now turned into a disaster that devours all vitality, a peril and a hidden danger without exception.

Anyone with a conscience should destroy it immediately.

But unfortunately, Guo ShouQue lacks such a thing.

On the contrary, from the first moment... he is intoxicated by this 'soup base' that remains so lively even after tens of thousands of years of boiling.

It is so beautiful—

Even if it is dead and failed, how fascinating is the decayed state preserved within, how adorable is the curse and grudge of its unborn destruction.

Not the result of artifice, but a naturally perfect crystal.

This purity, how enthralling it is.

It's just like a... miracle! 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

And now, the miracle descends upon Kanda Soramakoto, gently and inclusively stretching out countless palms for an embrace.

The bamboo basket trembles violently, shedding the shattered outer strips to reveal a jade-white texture and cracks, an ancient and solemn aura flashes in the gaps, then returns to silence.

The bamboo basket continues to shake.

At first, the roar can be heard, then faint rebukes and howls, with thunderbolt struggling angrily, pulling at the edge of the basket, but unable to push open the sky dome's lid and escape.

From the moment Guo ShouQue spoke his name and he responded, all this was already destined.

Now, continuous cracks appear on Guo ShouQue's face and body, underneath the scorch marks left by the thunderbolt, one eye after another opens, looking down on him with indifferent malice and mockery, disdainfully.

Until finally, the wailing sound disappears.

A strange fragrance rises.

In the swirling fragrance, the scars and eyes on Guo ShouQue's body slowly close and vanish.

Whether inside the jade bottle or bamboo basket, only the sound of boiling remains.

A wisp of white mist rises slowly from the gap, transformed into a miraculous scene of dancing immortals and scattering celestial flowers, simple vitality spreads.

With a deep breath, a satisfying moan erupts.

The soup is finally cooked.

Guo ShouQue smiles, lifts the lid, and looks down. In the clear soup inside the container, there is only a broken taiko drum floating slowly.

Taking a spoon, he filters out the debris and casually tosses it aside.

Guo ShouQue admires the clear soup in the pot, smiling brightly: it's been so long since he last encountered such beautiful ingredients, otherwise he wouldn't be able to make such a perfect old soup.

It's just a pity, something's still missing...

He thinks for a moment, rummages through the box, finds a cabbage, rinses it, tears off a leaf, and throws it into the pot.

Admiring the cabbage leaf, bobbing in the clear soup, Guo ShouQue nods in satisfaction.

This is the authentic taste!

Perfect!

.

.

When the distant thunder ceases.

The snowstorm finally dissipates.

Accompanied by the shattering of countless ice columns, a fierce long knife crosses forty meters, hovering at Vladimir's throat. The sharp tip gently touches his carotid artery.

After the cracks of ice walls and giant columns, a cold voice is heard.

"The work is over, Vladimir."

Vladimir leans against the wall, cracks appear on his face and shell—as Frost Father's divine nature gradually fades, the immense power is ultimately squandered.

Gradually, returned to original form.

The power gained temporarily through Chef Demon skills cannot be maintained for long; once digested, Frost Father's earthly foundation will collapse—the power will return to the eternal frozen wasteland, waiting for the next summoning. Perhaps there won't be a next time, but the eternal miracle wandering on the ice field doesn't care.

The ice field and storm never care about human thoughts and feelings.

In the tearing pain, Vladimir breathes heavily, under Frost Father's visage, his tattooed face faintly emerges.

"I can still fight, Miss Huaizhi."

He wipes the blood off his mouth, indifferent to the blade poised at his throat.

"I know you can still fight."

Before the fractured ice wall, the figure bathed in fierce blood light emerges calmly, looking at him: "I also know you have something hidden that you haven't taken out, and I hope you keep it hidden until the end of the match—your tactics may not work on me."

In Huai Shi's eyes, burning source substance shoots out majestic brilliance.

Breaking through Frost Father's illusion.

Vladimir's expression twitches slightly, finally, he sighs helplessly, raises his hands, and surrenders.

Yet Huai Shi doesn't hurry to close the distance, still staying ten meters away.

Understanding from slight signs.

The passive effect brought about by the elevation of the Death Perception level.

Huai Shi is able to discern and perceive from details those signs that could pose a threat to his life.

From the moment the battle began until now, this crisis has intensely lingered in his soul, keeping him at a constant distance from Vladimir.

Vladimir's eyelids twitched slightly, his expression growing more helpless.

"Rest assured, I won't use it, I don't want to kill you."

"No, please don't misunderstand," Miss Huaizhi politely smiled, "I am just habitually keeping a distance from those who want to be sycophants, after all, you always think too highly of yourselves."

In silence, Vladimir's expression twitched, sighed helplessly.

He raised his hand and removed the Ice Crown from his head, pulling down the pale gemstone.

"What is that?" Huai Shi asked.

"Favor of the ice wasteland," Vladimir shrugged, "However, it's commonly known as Frost Father's exile... Those favored by it will always be accompanied by storms and snow, pulled indefinitely into the eternal ice wasteland."

The Stigma of Frost Father itself is the embodiment of that eternal ice and storm.

Moreover, now that Frost Father is dead, unless some other God guides, those favored by it will sooner or later die of hunger and cold, turning into ice sculptures in that nonexistent wasteland.

Merging with eternal despair and silence.

"Sounds quite interesting."

Huai Shi lifted his hand, turned the blade in his hand, gave it a shake, blinked, and smiled: "Don't you think that gemstone suits me well?"

Alright, I understand your meaning.

Vladimir rolled his eyes, just like a real sycophant, raised the gemstone, and obediently placed it on the flat of the blade.

Huai Shi did not pick it up.

The blade slightly turned, and the eternally cold gemstone was already Source Materialized, thrown into the lower layers of the Buried Sacred Place amongst the miscellaneous items. Hopefully, no unlucky Raven will activate it while rummaging...

"Then, thank you for your gift. Unfortunately, you are a good person, and it's impossible for us. I hope you won't pester me anymore—"

After performing a polished parting filled with green tea flavor, Huai Shi stepped back, turned around... his footsteps halted for a moment, but the reversed Blade of Resent abruptly leapt across a distance of over ten meters the moment Vladimir sighed in relief.

Piercing through his thigh, nailing him to the floor.

"What are you doing!"

The Tattooed Chef Demon roared miserably, lifted his eyes in anger, only to see Huai Shi's expression.

"This blood, probably around four hundred CC, serves as interest for wasting time, Mr. Vladimir."

Huai Zhisu nodded to bid farewell: "I hope you can rest well, and hope you can pray with me, pray for my client's safety.

Otherwise, both you and your boss will have to pay the price for this."

He said: "I swear."

Amidst the gradually melting chill, what emerged was a chilling killing intent.

Without looking back at Vladimir behind him, Huai Shi turned and left, dragging the Blade of Resent, racing towards the direction of the Raven's cawing.

Danger alert!

But by the time he arrived, everything was already over.

He lowered his head and saw the heavily damaged Steel Raven.

And the corpse fallen to the ground.

The blood gradually spread, reaching beneath his feet.

Damn it...

Huai Shi closed his eyes.

Came too late.

.

.

Twenty minutes before, when the sensation of the world spinning descended, everything in front of him changed drastically.

Zhenxi looked up in astonishment, surrounded by glazed palace halls and the misty blood glow in the air.

In her shadow, suddenly a Steel Raven screeched, spread its wings, rose up, guarded by her side, devouring the gathering blood glow.

However, the malice that spread through the bloodline could not be stopped. That venom spreading in the blood was constantly triggering all evil thoughts, any moment of loss of control would lead to mutation, descending into Hell.

No matter how dilute the collateral bloodline is, it will be infected and eroded by his self-transformation.

This is a malice even more thorough than the Ranch Owner's 'sacrificial ritual'...

"Ugh!!!"

Zhenxi instinctively bent down, vomiting uncontrollably, tears and mucus almost flowing out, until she nearly threw up bile.

Feeling as if fallen into a cesspit.

Completely without understanding what was happening.

Until she glimpsed those faintly arching, slowly crawling 'worms' in the vomit, she retreated in horror, looking around at the surrounding scene.

And other people screaming in panic.

Before Zhenxi's eyes, the panicked maid suddenly collapsed to the ground, her legs twitching violently, twisting to a nearly bizarre angle.

Through the skirt hem, one could vaguely glimpse the writhing limbs that were no longer normal outlines, something quickly swelling, expanding, deforming...

When hungry eyes raised and looked at her, Zhenxi had vaguely understood what was happening.

Following Miss Huaizhi's teachings—at this time, first take a deep breath, strive to show a sincere and earnest posture, then maintain politeness, stand firm.

Finally, bow at ninety degrees.

"—Sorry to disturb you, farewell!"