Apocalypse Forecast

Within the glass, the surface of the water still trembled slightly, reflecting a faint brilliance.

All present couldn’t help but crane their necks forward to take a closer look.

They furrowed their brows.

”What is this?”

”Water?”

”No kidding, anyone with eyes can see it’s water... but what exactly is this all about?”

A Chef Demon from Yingzhou pinched his chin, pondering for a while. ”It looks like Mizuwari? Nice technique, clean and neat.”

Mizuwari.

Originally a popular drinking technique in Yingzhou, it was, simply put, a method of diluting alcohol with water to lower its proof, allowing one to better savor the spirit’s aroma. It began with sake; then, as foreign liquors like whiskey entered the market, it quickly became trendy.

”After adding ice and water, stir thoroughly until frost forms on the glass. It’s definitely Mizuwari.”

Nonsense, everyone here could see it was Mizuwari.

But the question was... what exactly was being diluted?

Mizuwari with sake or whiskey was one thing, but Mizuwari with water? What sort of new nesting doll trick was this?

”Moreover, in the glass... it’s just plain water, right? Without any added carbon dioxide, where are all those bubbles coming from? This feels ominous.”

When Arumu was uncertain, he turned his head and asked, ”Mr. Guo, do you have any thoughts?”

”Oh ho ho, this old man knows a little something about this.” Chef Demon Guo laughed like a withered chrysanthemum. He rubbed his knees and, after a lengthy sigh, said, ”This must be the renowned Dongxia dish, Boiled Cabbage!”

???

Countless question marks popped above everyone’s heads.

What in the world?

Boiled Cabbage?

Is there something wrong with me, or with him?

Do you Dongxia people have to bring this up every time you talk about cooking?

”This isn’t anything like Boiled Cabbage!”

”It might be a different variety,” the old Chef Demon nodded calmly. ”Cuisine always needs reinvention.”

”Stop joking. If it’s Boiled Cabbage, where’s the boiling water?”

Chef Demon Guo shrugged, spreading his hands. ”It was left out too long; it’s cooled down.”

”And the cabbage?”

”Perhaps she forgot to add it?”

The old man’s expression suggested Huai Shi was unfathomably profound and terrifyingly skilled, making everyone else too weary to listen to his continued nonsense.

Because Huai Shi had already casually picked up a nearby notepad, written on a slip of paper, and stuck it to the glass.

She had considerately written a description:

[Creative Cuisine - The Sense of Heartbreak]

This was her latest creation, sparked by a stroke of genius.

Combined with the skills of the Forgers, it had completely transformed into the Fat Otaku’s Sorrow Water V3.0!

After sticking the note, Miss Huaizhi smiled, pointed at the glass toward Shenjin Qing, her expression one of eager anticipation.

”Here you go, friend.”

”Go on, please...”

But Shenjin Qing sat silently in his chair, frozen stiff.

He seemed to finally recover from his earlier shock. Staring at the glass of water before him, his expression shifted, his features gradually beginning to twitch as he tried to suppress his anger. But the mounting rage was difficult to contain. His eyes widened, and his face turned livid.

”Stop joking around, Huaizhi!” Shenjin Qing shouted. ”What do you take cooking for? A joke? This stuff... I would never... even if I died right here, jumped from this spot, I absolutely wouldn’t...”

His shouting came to an abrupt halt.

A heavy shadow fell across his face, dimming the light in his eyes.

From very close by, Huaizhi Sushi tilted her head down, looking down at her opponent. She said nothing, simply gazing at him in silence.

As he met those pitch-black eyes looking down at him, he felt an undeniable, oppressive force emanating from them. Her gaze seemed to scream a warning: Drink up!

It was as if she wanted to plant that inexplicable brutality into the Soul before her. Her warning was as cold and commanding as an absolute, unchallengeable order given to ingredients on a cutting board.

No words were needed; the cold, mocking intent had already seared itself deep into his Soul, whispering taunts in his ear: Shen-kun, you’re a grown man now. Don’t be picky like a child, alright? If you’re going to throw a tantrum because you can’t have your candy, then I’ll give you a little something sweet...

Right in front of him, Huaizhi Sushi casually grabbed the seasoning tray, lifted the lid, and with a dismissive air, flicked a pinch of sugar into the glass.

As if that would make the ice water flavorful.

That was the last of her pity.

Now...

She met his eyes once more, leaned in, and gazed at him from inches away, her look conveying the final, irrefutable command: Drink it!

Being stared at by those eyes, it was as if he instantly fell into an Abyss, losing his last will to resist.

His hand moved involuntarily to pick up the glass.

By the time Shenjin Qing realized what was happening, his lips were already against the cold rim of the glass. He tipped it slightly, and a cool stream of water flowed into his mouth.

As it traveled down his throat, a refreshing chill spread through him, making him exhale deeply.

A flicker of exhilaration... Unexpectedly sweet, and quite good. No, more than that... invigorating! The coarse sugar, added so carelessly, dissolved in the icy water, its chill spreading through his chest. It was as if he stood in a biting wind, watching early spring plum blossoms gradually fade, wilting on their branches—stooped and humble...