Cook God was very unconvinced by Michael’s evaluation. What do you an it’s all because of the ingredients? Can’t you see what I did? From the temperature, the way the at was cut, the cooling thod along with the char level were all calculated by with extre care. This is the result achieved after nearly driving the dragon species to extinction, how can it be looked down upon?
"Hmph, what the hell do you know? If you’re so good, try doing it yourself and let see."
He knew reasoning with soone who understood nothing was a waste of effort. Might as well let the other party experience for themselves to see how hard it is.
Michael was dumbfounded, not expecting Cook God to pull this move. Telling him to cook? How’s he supposed to cook? He doesn’t have those weird, bizarre abilities. Even if in the consciousness space he could mimic a bit, it didn’t an he could beco proficient imdiately.
"You’re deliberately making things difficult for , aren’t you? I don’t have the abilities or the experience using them like you do."
"Want abilities? Lend them to you. The ingredients are still here, use them to make sothing better for to see."
"Huh?"
Before Michael could understand what was happening, extrely strange mories appeared in his head. In those mories he could breathe fire, blow whirlwinds, could turn his hands into ’kitchen knives’, and moreover had a full six arms.
His body changed accordingly, four arms grew out from his sides, his originally normal teeth also beca sharper. His cute face now beca extrely fierce, resembling the miniature appearance of Cook God.
"What am I?"
He shrank his head back to its normal size and cast his gaze around his body. An unfamiliar body he had never seen before, yet also familiar as if it had been with him for countless years.
"What are you still dazed about? What you needed, I’ve given you. Hurry up and show . Don’t tell you’re all talk and no skill. If that’s the case, you should change your na to Empty Barrel Makes Loud Noise, ha ha."
Cook God’s sharp tongue made a vein pop on Michael’s forehead. How dare this giant who doesn’t look the slightest bit cultured look down on him? He is soone who completed nine years of compulsory education, you know.
"Hmph, anyone can burn food. Open your eyes wide and watch do it, I guarantee it’ll be ten thousand tis better than what you made."
As soon as he finished speaking, Michael recalled Cook God’s movents from earlier. He closed his eyes tightly, focusing all his mind. He wanted to thoroughly defeat the arrogant guy before him in the field he was most proud of on his very first try.
After just a few seconds, he slowly opened his eyes. The aura on him quickly transford as if he had completely beco another person. Those special abilities he had never used before now felt as if he had used them millions of tis.
Suddenly the aura vanished, leaving only awkwardness. Looking at the mountain-sized pile of ingredients before him, Michael montarily didn’t know what to make. His body size and Cook God’s weren’t the sa, so he couldn’t cook food of the sa size.
"This... I’m this small, how can I cook sothing that big?"
"Just do it. I’m sure you’ll create so kind of garbage anyway, so making it big would just waste ingredients."
Cook God pursed his lips and waved his hand. Even unspoken, his face almost clearly displayed the words "I look down on you."
Having just cald down for a few seconds, a vein popped on Michael’s forehead again. He gritted his teeth with a grinding sound, five hands clenched tight, his gaze about to erupt in flas.
"Don’t look down on people!"
He shouted and imdiately swung his hand fiercely, a sharp chop sending a large chunk of at flying. Then, Cook God’s initial movents were copied by him in their entirety, missing only the step of stomping the ground because he was floating in mid-air.
Michael took a deep breath and blew hard. The air combined with the strange energy inside his body ford a whirlwind that lasted an extrely long ti in the air.
With the wind done, now it was fire’s turn. Michael felt a scorching sensation in his chest but not a burning feeling. He spat out the strange energy heating up inside him; it turned into a fla, and he slowly increased its temperature.
During this process, he tried his utmost to be ticulous to avoid overcooking because, in his view, this was the most difficult step for this dish.
Not long after, he reached out and grabbed the dragon at chunk that was now completely charred black on the surface. Placing the at chunk in his palm, he held it out in front of him. At the sa ti, he threw Cook God a challenging look as if to say, "See? This is a piece of cake, anyone with hands can do it."
Cook God glanced at the piece of at and imdiately shook his head. The performance just now was passable in form, but that was because he had given Michael many related mories, so it wasn’t surprising. As for the quality of the dish... completely inedible.
"What are you shaking your head for? Look at the outside, it’s no different from the dish you cooked earlier."
Michael frowned, a vein twitching on his forehead, anger with no outlet. Just one look and you look down on the food I cooked? Are you picking a fight?
"Take a bite and you’ll know. Anyway, you won’t believe anything I say." Cook God waved his hand, his tone lazy and ten parts certain.
Michael pursed his lips, clearly not trusting this nonsense. Confident, he took a big, hard bite of the at. The feeling was right, extrely familiar, exactly the kind of feeling that makes you want to spit it out imdiately, and it exploded right then.
But then sothing unexpected happened. The duration of the bitter, acrid taste from the charred layer was excessively long, causing him to spit everything out before he could even taste the goodness of the at.
"Cough, cough, cough... How can this be?"
Michael used his hand to wipe his tongue clean, now covered in blackened fragnts, his heart filled with extre confusion.
"Why? I clearly copied you exactly."
"Hahaha, actually not exactly, because the mories I gave you lack a portion of my experience. I only gave you the ability to use the powers to a proficient degree. Factors like temperature, how to read the at’s grain, roasting ti, the speed and direction of the wind, you are all unclear about. You think your actions are like mine, but they’re only superficially similar."
Hearing this, Michael suddenly everything clicked. Until now, he had only paid attention to the food and not noticed that he himself had proficiently used many new abilities. Clearly, Cook God used this to teach him.
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