Chapter 31 "Chef's Contest" [VIP]
372.
The system detected an event that landed on Earth.
[Event] - A special abnormal phenomenon that needs to be contained in time, otherwise it will spread to the real world and cause an uncontrollable disaster.
This was the first event I experienced, and the system gave me some notes, saying that I needed to go through this event completely before I could contain it.
It was an event called "Chef King Competition". Luckily, I didn't inherit Bruce's ability to blow up the kitchen. With my culinary talent, it shouldn't be difficult.
Besides Barbara, my younger brothers and sisters also wanted to go with me.
Oh, besides Jason, can any of you cook? Dick, you only know how to make instant noodles and oatmeal; you just burned the kitchen yesterday. Tim, you only know how to make coffee. And Stephanie, you're a foodie who only knows how to eat. And then there's Cassandra. As much as I hate to say this about this sweet little sister, Cassandra's cooking skills are truly incredible.
But I still brought them with me, okay, after all, you are my brothers and sisters.
Spoiled.
373.
I found the entrance to the incident inside a garbage dump.
After turning a corner, we walked into a recycling station on another planet.
Thousands of trash cans cheered and applauded inside the garbage dump.
Oh my god.
There are trash cans here with hands and feet everywhere.
Most trash cans have silver lids, and some have scuffs and stains on their bodies. The lids and bodies also have dents or scratches. They wear black bodysuits that tightly wrap around their bodies, highlighting their smooth, powerful muscles. Their limbs are long and slender, with well-defined muscles in their arms. Their hands are clenched into fists, as if ready to strike at any moment.
Her legs are wearing black and gray gradient stockings, and her feet are wearing a pair of black boots with thick soles that provide stable support.
The body and limbs are also embellished with lines and decorations of various colors. These and other color elements add a sense of gorgeousness and dominance to its overall image, making it look more kingly.
Having said that, it doesn't change the fact that they are just a bunch of garbage cans.
I suddenly had a bad feeling in my heart.
After I stepped onto the ring, the surrounding trash cans began to pour half-eaten food, rotten apple cores, and rotten, greasy paper balls at me...
Ugh…are they using garbage to represent flowers?
So weird.
As expected, the organizer pushed a bunch of junk food to me.
The other contestants also began to use these garbage ingredients to create garbage with confidence.
I started cooking in a sweat.
And then, not surprisingly, they lost.
I was severely criticized by the referee, but what I did was not rubbish at all.
I was actually criticized by a trash can in my lifetime...
I feel bad that my cooking skills have improved.
374.
I walked off the stage with a "garbage failure certificate" in my hand, feeling mixed emotions.
Didn't I think bringing them here was the right thing to do? Luckily, I'm a good sister who dotes on them.
We re-entered the event, and this time, I sent Dick out.
In this round, the contestants were asked to dig out "ingredients" from the garbage dump on the spot and then make a garbage meal that fits the theme within 5 minutes.
Dick confidently rummaged through a pile of torn plastic bags and actually found a few packets of expired instant noodles and a can of rusty Coke.
"Watch this!" he said, using the trash can as a pot to cook instant noodles. He also added a few pieces of rotten vegetable leaves he had picked up, and finally poured a little unidentified liquid with a strange smell on it.
"Done!" Dick proudly picked up his "instant noodle feast" and placed it in front of the referee. "Try it! This is the art of the garbage world!"
After taking turns tasting the garbage cans, the judges all nodded, "Well, this is authentic garbage!"
…I suddenly feel like keeping Dick here as honorary chef.
Although he qualified, Dick was defeated by other contestants due to his lack of innovation.
I don't know why, but I felt a little relieved.
375.
Next it was Stephanie's turn to perform.
She simply picked up a whole bag of moldy bread, sprinkled paint-like sauce on it, casually inserted a few blackened carrot sticks, and finally topped it with a piece of something that she couldn't tell whether it was a rag or cheese.
"Come on, try my 'chaos sandwich'!" Stephanie said proudly.
The trash can judges once again nodded collectively, praising her work as "unique and exuding a pure trashy vibe."
"I told you, this kind of competition is born for me." Stephanie raised her chin at me proudly.
"...I don't understand how doing a terrible job is something that's worthy of praise?" Jason said.
He was cuckolded just like me, because being bigger than normal was out of place in this crazy world.
.
376.
Unfortunately, Shi, so we can only exit and re-enter.
It's Tim's turn.
He had observed several rounds, and the judges' biases, the contestants' conditions, the distribution of garbage land... were all made into a table in his mind.
Without a word, he walked over, picked up a pile of electronic waste from the garbage dump, disassembled them, and assembled them into a device that emitted a weak electric current. Then he began to add spoiled cream, rotten fruit, and bent wire on it.
"This is a garbage energy cake," Tim explained briefly. "It can emit light and heat, and it can also charge the trash can."
No, it’s rubbish. Tim said he needs it, so he needs it.
The judges were shocked, "This...this is amazing! This is not garbage, this is a miracle!"
But Tim still couldn't beat the legendary Garbage Can Kingdom's court chef, the diner who had tasted 1,000 types of garbage molecules, and the world-famous garbage gourmet.
Although defeated, it is still glorious.
We gave him a standing ovation.
Jason had a flash of inspiration and said, why not let Bruce come?
We looked at each other.
Huh? That's a really good idea!
377.
Bruce looked at us and put down the documents in his hand with an expressionless face. "I thought you were joking."
"No!" we retorted in unison.
Then, I introduced Bruce into the [Event].
"Bruce, this is a matter of great importance to the honor of the Bat Family!" Dick pushed him onto the stage. "If you don't take action, we will be wiped out!"
Bruce frowned slightly, but finally took the tool handed to him by the referee. Then, he began the suffocating operation.
He picked out a few moldy carrots, a rusty can, and a ball of something that smelled like a shoe insole from the garbage, mixed them together, and quickly kneaded them into a ball with his hands. I don't know what was reacting with each other, making a "gurgling" sound like a potion.
Finally, he took out a pack of... uh, nutritional powder from his pocket, which he had brought from somewhere, and sprinkled it evenly on it.
"Done." He calmly placed the strange thing in front of the referee.
378.
The trash can judges surrounded Bruce's work, all showing expressions of amazement.
"This is the most trashy thing I've ever tasted!" A trash can judge said excitedly, holding his face.
Does it have a face? Never mind, just pretend it has a face.
"It perfectly illustrates the core spirit of trash - illogical and disgusting, but with an inexplicable appeal." Another judge happily circled the judges' table.
"Without a doubt, this is a masterpiece!" The judges raised their scoreboards one after another and all received full marks!
"You won already?" I was stunned. I didn't expect Bruce's skills to be so bad...
"Sure enough, the aesthetics of trash cans are just that rubbish." Jason sneered.
"That's not quite true..." Tim pushed his nonexistent glasses with his index finger, his tone thoughtful, "Bruce is indeed very good at this kind of... anti-human stuff."
Bruce packed up his tools silently. There was no trace of joy of victory on his back, but rather a sense of helplessness and sadness.
He turned to look at us and asked, "Can we go back now?"
Of course, Garbage Championship Champion, we all listen to you.
379.
We managed to win the game, but I had mixed emotions.
After returning home, Ah Fu saw that we all looked so serious that he couldn't help asking, "What happened?"
"Alfred, Bruce's cooking skills were rated as top-notch by Trash Can." I sighed and handed him the judge's score sheet.
Ah Fu was silent for two seconds, then calmly took the score sheet and said, "It seems that Master's 'nutritious meal' has finally found a kindred spirit."
"Alfred," Jason looked at him seriously, "Bruce should be strictly prohibited from entering the kitchen from now on. I'm really worried that his fatherly love will burst out and he'll want to cook for us... Or maybe he'll think we had a big fight and want to poison us? I think his cooking is a bit out of line."
"Of course, young master." Ah Fu's expression remained calm, but the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly.
380.
Although the aftereffects of the game are still tormenting us, at least the glory of the Bat Family has been temporarily preserved.
"I still feel something's wrong." Stephanie sat cross-legged on the sofa, biting on a straw. "Why are the garbage cans so obsessed with Bruce's cooking?"
"Maybe there's a resonance between trash and trash." Dick lazily leaned back on the sofa, "Just like those weird novels you wrote always attracted a group of weird fans."
"Can you say that again?" Stephanie narrowed her eyes.
"I said you're very talented." Dick changed his words decisively with a perfect smile.
"Okay, what are you arguing about?" I waved my hands helplessly. "Let's put this matter behind us. From now on, just pretend it never happened."
"Agree!" the whole family said in unison.
381.
Of course, it was said to be over, but in the next few days, every time everyone saw Bruce passing by the kitchen, they would subconsciously stop what they were doing and look at him with vigilance.
"Your gazes bother me." Bruce finally spoke up when he couldn't bear it anymore.
"Oh, don't worry about it, we are just in awe of genius." Jason waved his hand nonchalantly.
"Or rather, he has a deep admiration for the top artist in the world of trash." Dick added, earning a cold look from Bruce.
"Okay, stop provoking him." I slammed the table, trying to end this meaningless banter. "Be careful, Bruce will go to the kitchen to replace your dinner later."
"You didn't let him go either." Tim said darkly.
As soon as she finished speaking, the whole family started laughing, especially Stephanie, who rolled over and fell off the sofa.
Only Bruce's mouth corners kept turning down, silently expressing his dissatisfaction.
But no one cares.
382.
Soon, Bruce cheered up. He looked at the tea on the table and suddenly said, "I want to cook by myself today."
The whole family stopped what they were doing instantly, and their eyes were involuntarily focused on him.
"Bruce, um... you're not planning to treat us with a 'nutritious meal', are you?" I asked cautiously, feeling cold sweat instantly oozing out of my skin.
There was a hint of danger in the air.
Bruce smiled slightly, "No, I'll do something different today."
"Different?" Tim had quietly put away his computer, ready to call the police and bring in the butler at any time.
"Yes," Bruce replied curtly, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.
"It's over, it's over, we're all finished now." Stephanie whispered, her face full of despair.
"Maybe we can have a competition to see who can escape Bruce's cooking. The first one to reach the refrigerator wins." Jason couldn't help but chuckle.
"Don't be ridiculous, everyone, be prepared. Tonight's dessert will probably be made of all our regrets." Dick looked serious, but the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously.
Damn, why are people so excited in such a dangerous situation? Their butts are like glue, not even moving. Are they not afraid of death?
It turns out it's all due to daddy issues, so it's okay then.
383.
Everyone held their breath as Bruce's cooking skills were finally revealed.
He served a dish of "roast chicken" that looked a little off. The outside was golden and crispy, but when he cut it open, something leaked out...some strange purple liquid?
Seriously speaking, Bruce actually knows how to cook, he just likes to add some creativity on a whim.
At least this roast chicken looks good from the outside, and if Bruce hadn't followed his own heart and used inappropriate seasonings or ingredients, it should have been an edible roast chicken.
"What...is this?" Tim picked up the fork and stared at the piece of meat, obviously not daring to eat it easily.
Bruce glanced at him, his voice still steady: "My creative cuisine."
Well, creativity.
I have prepared some stomach-strengthening and digestion-promoting tablets.
"Creative?" Dick looked skeptical. "What kind of creative style is that? Maybe... an alien kitchen style?"
"It's nutrition." Bruce said in a calm tone, but the whole family fell silent tacitly.
"Well, who wants to try it first?" I looked around helplessly and found that everyone's eyes looked like they had seen the end of the world.
Jason is worthy of being the one with the most serious Oedipus complex in our family. He took a deep breath, chose a relatively safe corner, carefully cut off a piece of meat, and slowly put it into his mouth.
"Well, well..." He suddenly stopped and frowned unconsciously.
"How is it?" I asked quickly.
Jason seemed to be swallowing with difficulty, and finally exhaled: "Ugh... It feels like eating... moldy bread that has been around for a century and a rotten rag... Ugh! I feel a little nauseous..."
Jason hurried off with his hand covering his mouth, and I could hear him retching while holding onto a trash can.
...This is food that even Jason can't eat.
The whole family looked at the roast chicken with even more horror.
"Oh my god," Dick said to me quietly, raising his palm, "I think we should save this meal for the trash can."
In the trash? You're right, Dick, I think so too.
But everyone still ate it anyway.
The moment I put the chicken in my mouth, I seemed to see my great-great-grandmother.
Dizziness, cold sweats, goose bumps...
It felt like I was coming face to face with something indescribable.
Bruce sat down calmly, his eyes seeming to see the splendor of another world.
384.
For the next few minutes, the table fell into an eternal silence. Everyone was silently trying to digest this "creative feast", but the awkwardness and uneasiness in the air could almost be cut with a knife.
"How on earth have we managed to live under the same roof for so long?" Tim finally broke the silence, a hint of tears in his voice. Ah, was he moved to tears by our love for Bruce? "And how could we even tolerate Bruce's 'creativity'?"
"Because we're a team," I said calmly. I felt incredibly calm now. "A lively, loving team."
"Yeah, that's right." Jason swallowed the last bite of meat. He was really trying hard to digest Bruce's fatherly love. "Lively and...battered."
Cassan stared at the chicken on her plate for a long, silent moment, then swallowed it down in lightning speed, expressionless and stubborn.
She drank nearly a liter of water, I swear I saw it right.
"You masters," Stephanie shook her head, as if deeply hurt, "you really don't know how to appreciate delicious food."
Please finish that chicken on your plate before you say that, Stephanie. You haven't even eaten half as much as Jason.
"Yes, none of us have as much taste as you do." Dick said insinuatingly, "Bruce's 'deliciousness' is an art form we don't understand."
"Okay, stop talking." I waved my hand and clasped my hands together devoutly. "We should thank God for our life tonight."
It's a pity that Barbara escaped this disaster because she was at home.
385.
After dinner, we finally managed to survive Bruce's "delicious" meal. Although the whole family was still in shock, our laughter seemed to be the most beautiful seasoning.
"Next time, if anyone dares to let Bruce cook, I will be the first to stand up and object." Jason held his stomach with an ugly look on his face.
But you are the one who eats the most, and you really love Xiaojie. You are worthy of being the one with the most serious Oedipus complex in the family.
"I'll try again." Bruce responded lightly. Apparently, we didn't cause him any setback today, but instead increased his self-confidence.
"Well, next time we'd better eat takeout." I sighed, holding my forehead.
"Or get an alien to cook," Dick suggested. "At least then we can try different flavors."
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