Dragon Ball: My power level has been maxed out

"Since we're just killing time, let's make something to eat." Solo smiled, took a kitchen knife from the knife rack, and weighed it in his hand.

Bulma didn't think much of it and immediately prepared a large amount of ingredients as Soro requested.

Fresh pork, beef, fish, shrimp, vegetables, seasonings... filled the entire kitchen counter.

Solo considered it carefully for a moment, then closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into his body.

He manipulated the skill slots, temporarily removing [Combat Power x500], keeping [Talent x50], and then putting [Master Chef] into the empty slot.

Then, he began to cook delicious food.

The kitchen echoed with the sounds of cleavers clattering against the cutting board, spatulas scraping against the wok, and the range hood humming.

Solo's movements were fluid and graceful: chopping vegetables, blanching, stir-frying, braising...

Every step was as precise as a machine, yet it carried an indescribable rhythm.

Before long, one after another, uniquely flavorful dishes were served on the table.

These delicacies include: Braised Pork Intestines, Braised Sea Cucumber with Scallions, Sweet and Sour Carp, Braised Prawns, Stir-fried Double Crispy Delicacies, Stir-fried Pork Kidney, Four Happiness Meatballs, Milk Soup with Cattail Shoots, Stir-fried Conch Slices, Braised Fish Slices with Fermented Rice Wine, Mu Shu Pork, Stir-fried Shrimp, and Stewed Pork in a Jar...

The table was covered with food, steaming hot and fragrant.

Solo glanced at the Nine-Turned Intestines with some disdain.

He put the most effort into that dish, but looking at those winding segments of intestine, he still felt a little uneasy.

However, the other dishes were quite good, with excellent color, aroma, and taste.

He took a deep breath, looked up at the sky, and gazed at the distant stars.

I wonder if Weiss will be able to smell these fragrances.

……

However, this happened shortly after Solo had placed the dishes on the table.

Bulma's family followed the scent from afar.

Dr. Briffs pushed up his glasses, sniffed the air, and quickened his pace unconsciously.

Brigitte followed behind her husband, her eyes sparkling.

Bulma walked at the back, holding a magazine in her hand, but her eyes were already fixed on the dishes on the table.

Seeing the sumptuous feast Soro had prepared, Bulma and her family of three's eyes lit up, and their mouths watered.

"Solo, you're amazing!" Bulma exclaimed in amazement, putting down her magazine and clapping her hands in front of her chest. "You've prepared such a sumptuous feast so quickly!"

"How about trying it first?" Solo smiled, stepped aside, and crossed his arms.

"Then I won't stand on ceremony." Dr. Briefs picked up his chopsticks, reached for the plate of braised pork intestines, and popped a piece into his mouth.

He closed his eyes, chewed slowly, his brow furrowing slightly before quickly relaxing.

"Daddy, is it delicious?" Bulma asked.

"It's delicious..." Briefs smacked his lips, his tongue swirling around in his mouth, "but there's something strange about the taste..."

Bulma also picked up her chopsticks, took a bite of the Four Happiness Meatballs, and ate it with relish.

The meatballs are soft, the broth is rich, and they melt in your mouth.

"Mmm, delicious, delicious." Bulma's eyes lit up immediately, and she picked up another piece.

Brigitte also took a bite of the braised prawns.

The shrimp meat was tender and the sauce was rich; she nodded excitedly.

"Speaking of Solo," Dr. Briefs said, pointing to the braised pork intestines on the table, "what's the name of this dish I'm eating?"

"Nine-turn large intestine," Solo answered truthfully.

"Large intestine?" Dr. Briffs' expression froze, his chopsticks stopped in mid-air, and he was completely stunned.

He paused for two seconds, then asked again, unwilling to give up, "What large intestine?"

“It’s pig intestines.” Solo grinned. “I’ve deliberately preserved the unique flavor of the intestines. Isn’t it delicious?”

"Preserve its unique flavor?" Dr. Briffs' eyes widened, his face changing color from rosy to pale.

A brief period of stagnation.

Dr. Briffs jumped up from his chair, ran to the side, and bent over to vomit.

Bulma and Brigitte looked at each other in bewilderment.

After rinsing his mouth, Dr. Briefs returned, wiping his mouth with a wry smile: "This taste... is indeed quite unique."

"Don't overthink it." Solo laughed and waved his hand in front of him. "Only by preserving the unique flavor of the large intestine can you make such delicious food. If I didn't tell you it was pig intestine, you wouldn't have so many thoughts."

“What you said makes a lot of sense…” Dr. Briefs silently wiped his sweat, sat back down in his chair, but his chopsticks never reached for the plate of braised pork intestines again.

"Try something else," Solo suggested.

Bulma and her family of three then enjoyed several other dishes.

The sweet and sour flavor of sweet and sour carp, the savory aroma of braised prawns, the rich flavor of four-happiness meatballs...

Every dish made their eyes light up.

Solo followed suit and tasted each dish, picking up a piece of braised fish slice and putting it in his mouth. The fish slice was tender and smooth, and the aroma of wine filled the air.

You know what!

That's truly masterful culinary skill!

The food you make is delicious!

It tastes much better than the cooking robot at Bulma's house.

I just don't know if these dishes will be able to attract Weiss.

Solo looked up at the blue sky outside the window, his gaze becoming deep.

……

The Bulma family quickly devoured all the food on the table.

Except for that Nine-Turned Intestine.

It lay alone on the plate, like an abandoned hill.

However, Solo and his men did not appear.

He leaned back in his chair, tapped his fingers lightly on the table twice, and shook his head.

Looks like I'll have to try again tomorrow.

If it doesn't come after a week of continuous attempts, then we can only say that Wukong's luck is bad.

……

one day.

Two days.

Three days.

……

Before you know it, the seven days of the week have passed quickly.

Every evening, Solo would appear in Bulma's kitchen on time.

The sounds of cleavers clattering against the cutting board, spatulas scraping against the iron pot, and the hum of the range hood became the most consistent background noise at the headquarters of the Universal Capsule Group this week.

After cooking dinner for seven consecutive days, with at least ten dishes each time, Solo was really starting to feel overwhelmed.

On the contrary, in these seven days, Bulma's family all gained weight.

Dr. Briefs' belly had swelled up even more, Brigitte's cheeks had become much rounder, and Bulma screamed as she stood on the scale, then quietly took a bottle of yogurt out of the refrigerator.

Solo has decided that today will be the last meal.

If Whis doesn't come soon, it can only be said that Goku's luck has come to an end.

No one can save you now.

It seems I'll have to live in a world without Wukong from now on.

……

The evening of the seventh day.

The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the restaurant turned the white tablecloth orange-red.

"Solo, I can't eat your cooking anymore." Bulma sat in the chair, her cheeks flushed, happily stomping her feet, her slippers making a slapping sound on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Solo was taken aback and put down his chopsticks.

"I weighed myself today," Bulma sighed softly, clutching her lower abdomen. "I've gained several pounds without even realizing it! If I keep eating like this, I might end up weighing ninety pounds!"

Solo's lips twitched.

Is 90 pounds considered heavy?

He silently swallowed those words back.

Dr. Briffs and his wife Brigitte did not come to dinner tonight.

Bulma said the two of them went to see a movie; a new romance film had recently been released, and they had both enjoyed watching these kinds of movies since they were young.

Research on effective drugs for viral heart disease is also in full swing.

Dr. Briffs was not good at biological research, so he did not go with them.

The group of PhDs in white coats were still working hard in the lab, their tables piled high with test strips and petri dishes, but progress was minimal.

“Bulma, being slightly chubby is actually quite nice; it has a certain charm.” Solo smiled slightly, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

“Really? Solo.” Bulma blushed and asked shyly, her gaze lowered, her finger tracing circles on the table. “So you like the slightly chubby type.”

“Besides, today is the last time I’ll cook for a while.” Solo didn’t reply, but put down his teacup and glanced at the dishes that were still mostly left on the table. “After today, cooking will stop here.”

"Aren't you going to do it anymore?" Bulma was immediately disappointed.

"I've been cooking for seven days straight, I'm exhausted," Solo said honestly, stretching his wrists.