Chapter 905: Paynt thod
"You didn’t tell us the na of the fifth step," Anthony spoke from the side as he simply watched. Although he knew much about ran, he had to admit that this was the first ti he was witnessing such a procedure. That, however, was understandable; after all, this thod was unique to this tiline, sothing that could not be found anywhere else he had been.
"The fifth step is called Skimming the False Self," Broth-ben spoke calmly, his voice carrying a quiet authority. His words earned a nod from everyone present, as they imdiately understood the aning behind the na of the step without the need for further explanation.
The chef did not hesitate to transition into the next stage of the process. He shifted smoothly to the side where the dough rested, his movents fluid and unhurried. As he began to move, he stretched the dough with practiced precision, infusing it with Savor while imprinting rhythm, care, and love into each strand and every motion. His hands danced as though guided by instinct alone.
As the noodles were born beneath his fingers, they pulsed faintly for a brief mont, responding to his touch as if they possessed awareness of their own. Without missing a beat, the chef gently placed them into the pot with effortless care and ease. The noodles seed to sigh in utter satisfaction the instant they entered the broth, as though returning to a place they had always belonged.
thod followed thod as the chef continued his work, each action carried out with efficient speed and ticulous care imprinted into his motions. There was no wasted movent, no unnecessary flourish. Soon enough, the ran was complete and fully prepared. The air around them grew heavy with Savor energy, dense and almost tangible. The noodles seed to swim languidly within the broth, while the toppings appeared arranged in such a way that they invited anyone who laid eyes upon them to stop and admire their beauty.
The chef offered no explanation. He simply glanced at Anthony and his friends, who were watching in silence, then smiled faintly and nodded without uttering a single word. Within the Ran Singularity Tiline, ran was served without words. There was no need for explanation, no justification required. The ran itself did all the talking the mont it touched the tongue.
"Within the Ran Singularity Tiline, it is said that ran is not cooked," the Brothkin spoke softly, taking in a deep breath as though he could taste the creation from its fragrance alone. "It is allowed to happen."
After lingering for a short while longer, the team decided to move on, satisfied with what they had witnessed. They had already taken in more than enough from the Public Simrium.
"Let’s go do a bit of shopping," Altheria suggested as they followed behind the Brothkin. "After all, we don’t know when we’ll be able to return here."
Everyone agreed with her suggestion. Soon, they moved as one, their bodies lifting gently into the air. They left the Public Simrium behind, tearing through the air as they headed toward the shopping district, the world unfolding beneath them.
"How did you find the ran cooking technique?" Vega asked as she glanced upward, her voice directed at Romulus, who was still seated upon her head.
Romulus remained silent for a mont, as though organizing his thoughts. Then he replied, "Basic. But it was sufficient to convey its intentions and its words."
Broth-ben, who was flying ahead of them, turned toward Romulus briefly. He smiled before speaking, "What Romulus says is indeed true." With that, his gaze shifted forward once more.
"You seem to know a lot about ran," Aaaninja spoke from the side as he flew alongside Broth-ben. "Are you also a chef?"
"Everyone on the Nodara Planet is a chef in one way or another," Broth-ben replied evenly. "Lineage and bloodline do not matter." His tone made it clear that he had no intention of elaborating further.
Soon, the group arrived before the shopping district, each of them landing gently upon the ground. Steam-laced streets curved inward, guiding crowds past rounded stalls carved from warm stone. Simr-Pearls glimred in shallow trays, Traveler’s Noodles hung in pale loops from wooden fras, and aroma satchels drifted through the air, releasing soft white vapor.
Brothkin vendors bargained patiently while Oil Ascendants hovered in silent appraisal behind their counters. Foreigners moved cautiously, offering strange spices and sealed vials in trade. Beneath it all, the ground humd faintly, as if the market itself were tasting every exchange that took place within its bounds.
Without missing a beat, the team moved forward, weaving between the stalls with deliberate eagerness. They browsed through shop after shop, examining each item with interest. Bowls of various sizes and shapes were taken, along with ingredients, pots, chopsticks, and multiple types of oil. Bottles filled with liquid drawn directly from the Endless Broth Seas were also selected, each radiating faint energy.
Then it dawned on them.
They couldn’t pay with mana crystals.
"Ehhh... how do we pay?" Vega asked, her purple eyes turning toward Broth-ben, who stood behind them observing quietly.
"The currency of the Nodara Planet is Savor Marks," Broth-ben replied calmly. "However, foreigners cannot use them. For outsiders, paynt is done through exchange, specifically through spices that do not exist within the Ran Singularity Tiline."
"How are we supposed to know which spices to use?" Aura Nova asked. "So of them might already exist here."
"Do not worry," Broth-ben answered with practiced ease. "Simply give them to the seller. Through the Broth mory skill, they will know."
Everyone nodded, but soon found themselves troubled. Not a single one of them carried any spices. Not even salt could be found within their space rings.
Still, they each had their own thods.
Aaaninja calmly communicated with the River of Ti. In response, various spices flowed toward him, perfectly chosen. As the River of Ti itself, it knew what existed within the Ran Singularity Tiline and what did not. He paid for himself and for Altheria, behaving like the perfect gentleman he was.
Aura Nova did not dwell on the matter. She activated Omniedit, creating several unique spices according to her thoughts. With those, she paid and stepped aside.
When Anthony’s turn ca, he waved his hand casually, using Quantum Manipulation to bend reality itself. A few exotic spices ford in his palm, their existence rewritten into being. He paid for himself and Vega, and the two of them walked away together.
Lucian, however, stood frozen.
He had no thod of paynt.
He felt lost for a brief mont, standing there speechless. It felt like one of those situations where a man took a girl out, only to realize he couldn’t afford to pay. Even Veronica was unable to help.
Of course, he had previously seen abilities related to spices, but why would he have wasted ti copying sothing so trivial? With a sigh, mana erupted outward from his core in vast yet perfectly controlled waves. The shopping district trembled under contained chaos. Lucian’s lips parted as he intoned a single phrase.
Event Rewriting.
Reality scread in protest as the laws of the Ran Singularity Tiline attempted to resist. It was futile. Lucian poured more mana into the act, forcing his will upon existence itself. The event in which he could not pay was deleted entirely, overwritten by a new truth. His mana vanished instantly afterward.
The seller stared at Lucian in shock, fear written plainly across his face. On the counter now lay a fresh set of spices, ones Lucian had forced reality to acknowledge. With a satisfied smile, Lucian walked away, Veronica following beside him with a lovestruck expression.
Eyes turned toward Kingsley, wondering how he would manage. He was the only one without any form of supernatural energy, his abilities rooted solely in martial arts. What was he supposed to do, beat reality up until it paid?
Before anyone could act, a portal opened without warning. From it, countless spices rained down, each etched clearly with a na; Sky Kingsley.
The universe itself had paid for him.
Kingsley calmly transferred so of the spices into his space ring, leaving the rest as paynt. Those remaining would serve him for future purchases as well.
Everyone stared in stunned silence. They hadn’t sensed any energy. There had been no spatial ripple.
The seller hurriedly verified the spices, then urged them to leave imdiately. He had no desire to witness what these ridiculous foreigners might do next.
Broth-ben shook his head as he walked away. In all his millennia of life, this was without question the most absurd group he had ever guided on a tour.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: I know many of you will find this Ran Singularity Tiline boring, so I will end it by the next Chapter or so. Thanks for reading.
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