You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

Herman's white beard was covered with golden rice grains and egg crumbs.

This is an incredibly unseemly act of licking the plate.

If this happened under normal circumstances, it would absolutely shock the entire culinary world.

But the five judges present.

No one laughed at him.

Even the most fiercely contested French chef.

He was now slumped in the leather chair on the judges' panel.

He covered his face with his hands, his shoulders trembling violently with excitement.

The lingering taste of that egg fried rice was still raging wildly in my mouth.

It shattered the pride and understanding that this group of people had accumulated over decades of culinary experience.

There is no suspense.

On the large screen above the judges' panel.

The score representing stove number 99 jumped out in unison, displaying five bright red perfect scores.

10 points, 10 points, 10 points...

Passed unanimously.

There was not a single sound.

The audience in the stands was completely silent.

The boos and jeers just now were like resounding slaps back at their own faces.

In front of stove number 98.

Watanabe knelt on the cold marble floor tiles.

The plate of top-quality bluefin tuna belly was arranged like a work of art.

At this moment, it's like a pile of rotten, stinking flesh, no longer worthy of anyone's attention.

He stared blankly at Chen Yuan's gray figure, which wasn't even a speck of cooking oil on it.

My whole body felt like all my strength had been drained, and I was shaking like a leaf.

This is not even a contest between people from the same dimension.

This is a game played by gods looking down on mortals.

"I lost..."

Watanabe muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and broken.

He stretched out his hands, which he was so proud of when he cut the fish.

He picked up the famous willow-leaf knife that had been with him for thirty years and could cut iron like mud from the cutting board.

Hold the blade by the back and handle with both hands.

A sudden burst of power.

Click.

A crisp sound of metal snapping rang out in the silent stadium.

He broke that million-dollar kitchen knife into two pieces.

The broken blade fell onto the floor tiles with a crisp, mournful sound.

A chef broke his own signature knife.

This means that his lifelong belief in cooking has completely collapsed.

He didn't even have the courage to raise his head and look at Chen Yuan again.

He could only bang his head against the ground.

The person in charge of the event was an elderly man with a full head of white hair.

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and strode to the center of the field.

Two hostesses dressed in black cheongsams followed behind her.

The hostess carried a heavy brocade box made of the finest golden nanmu wood.

The lid of the box is engraved with an intricate dragon pattern.

"Congratulations to Mr. Chen."

The person in charge bowed slightly, his tone filled with utmost respect.

"This 'Dragon Scale' kitchen knife belongs to you from today onwards."

The hostess carefully opened the hidden clasp of the brocade box.

Click.

The lid was lifted.

A cold, eerie blue light pierced the crystal lights on the top deck of the cruise ship in an instant.

It lay quietly on the bright yellow silk.

It is a kitchen knife that is entirely black and has natural meteorite patterns all over its blade.

The blade was extremely thin, exuding a sharpness devoid of any emotion.

Just by looking at it, you can feel the chilling power that cuts through flesh without leaving a trace.

This is a sacred object that chefs all over Asia dream of.

Rumor has it that as long as you get your hands on this knife, you can lock in the moisture even when cutting a piece of wood.

The renowned chefs in the stands craned their necks, their eyes burning with fervent envy and longing.

They are all waiting.

Let's wait and see how devoutly this newly crowned culinary master will receive this sacred object.

Some people were even ready to take photos to record this historic moment.

Chen Yuan had one hand in his pocket.

He casually reached out with his other hand.

There was no bathing or changing of clothes, nor any reverent contemplation.

The slender fingers gripped the knife handle.

Just randomly picked one.

"Zheng—"

The blade scraped against the air, producing a sickening dragon's roar.

Chen Yuan gripped the knife, his wrist slightly twisting.

He casually made a beautiful knife-twisting motion in mid-air.

Blue blade light intertwined, creating a blur of afterimages.

Then, the blade came to a steady stop.

"It's quite lightweight."

Chen Yuan offered a brief four-word evaluation.

He felt no excitement whatsoever at obtaining the peerless divine weapon.

He turned around.

He walked to his cutting board.

There was a plain, transparent plastic bag there, which he had brought with him to hold his insulated lunchbox.

Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of people in the audience.

Chen Yuan directly handed over the priceless "Dragon Scale".

Like stuffing a handful of rotten onions worth two yuan into your mouth.

Without any hesitation, he stuffed it into that crumpled plastic bag.

The plastic bags made a cheap, rattling sound.

The entire top deck of the cruise ship was so quiet that even the sound of waves lapping against the hull could not be heard.

Judge Hermann had just recovered from the excitement of licking the plate clean.

Seeing this scene.

His eyes rolled back, and he almost fainted.

Those are dragon scales made from extraterrestrial meteorite iron!

They just packed it in a plastic bag like they would a cabbage?!

What a waste!

This is an absolutely outrageous and utter waste of resources!

Chen Yuan ignored the glares around him that looked like they were about to vomit blood.

He picked up the transparent plastic bag and turned to walk towards the exit of the stadium.

A hint of gentleness, which he himself did not even notice, finally appeared in his deep black eyes.

The blade of this knife is so thin it's on the nanometer scale; it's a waste to use it for sashimi.

What he was thinking.

It's all because of that picky cat in Genting Highlands.

Shen Wanzhou has a weak stomach and always avoids eating much fruit because she worries about getting her hands dirty with the juice.

With this knife, you can lock in the fruit cells 100% when cutting an apple.

Not a drop of juice will leak out.

It's convenient for her to eat, and her stomach can absorb more vitamins.

Thinking of this, Chen Yuan quickened his pace.

He wanted to go home.

In the dark corridor at the exit of the stadium.

A pair of hands painted with scarlet nail polish were casually holding a slender cigarette.

The bright red cheongsam had a very high slit, vaguely revealing her fair thighs.

A pair of alluring fox-like eyes were fixed on Chen Yuan, who was walking towards them carrying a plastic bag.

His eyes were filled with an insatiable greed.

Chen Yuan casually stuffed the priceless, peerless sword into a plastic bag, muttering nonchalantly, "This blade is thin enough; it'll be perfect for peeling apples for Wanzhou without spilling any juice."