Those two ordinary words dropped into the air like a celestial bell tolling at the start of a divine banquet.
Silence blanketed the entire restaurant.
Without needing any cue, every gaze converged onto the coldest, deepest silhouette in the room—
Ghost Douluo.
In the eyes of every Titled Douluo present, Ghost Douluo's wisdom was like a lantern parting the fog.
They silently regarded him as the hidden leader of this "sacred feast."
Their stares brimmed with awe, reverence, and a wordless acknowledgment.
Ghost Douluo naturally felt all of it.
Beneath the black robe, not a ripple appeared on his expression.
He only tilted his head ever so slightly, and his unreadable gaze swept past the stiff, nervous Ghost Leopard Douluo beside him.
"Observe carefully."
He spoke no words, yet the meaning pierced like lightning.
His attention then landed on the menu lying quietly at the table's center.
To others, it was a booklet.
To Ghost Douluo, it had already transformed into a codex of divine laws, bearing the will of an unfathomable Senior.
With extreme solemnity, Ghost Douluo raised his withered hand—fingertips trembling—and gently opened the menu.
His posture was reverent.
His breath was cautious.
His gaze devout.
Only after a long while did he close the "scripture" and place it back with utmost care.
He then rose and bent at a near ninety-degree angle toward the lazy figure on the rocking chair.
"Senior… Junior has decided."
His hoarse voice carried a gravity it had never held before.
"One serving of Bone-Corroding Kylin Ribs."
"One serving of Abyssal Thousand-Throat Liver."
But Lin Feng did not immediately respond like he had the previous day.
He merely let out a faint hum through his nose—lazy, disinterested, barely acknowledging their existence.
Then—
"Next."
Boom.
To Ghost Douluo, those two utterances were nothing short of a divine decree.
The Senior means… this sacred ritual must be completed by everyone?
He instantly understood.
Ghost Douluo hurriedly passed the "law book" to Chrysanthemum Douluo with both hands, not daring to delay even a heartbeat.
The smooth, reverent exchange made Ling Yuan, Tuoba Xi, and the others behind them quietly gasp in admiration once more.
Their respect for Ghost Douluo soared yet again.
After a chain of solemn hands passing the "scripture," the menu finally fell into the trembling hands of Ghost Leopard Douluo.
The moment he touched it, his entire frame shook.
It didn't feel like a thin booklet in his hands—it felt like an unfathomable divine mountain.
The very mountain he had foolishly, blindly rejected just yesterday.
Regret surged again, nearly forcing tears from his eyes.
Suppressing his excitement and fear, he opened the menu with trembling fingers.
Even when confronted with prices reaching tens of thousands of gold coins, he didn't show even a flicker of surprise.
Instead—an expression of enlightenment and gratitude bloomed.
Cheap.
Too cheap.
Compared to the miracle bestowed by the Senior—something capable of reshaping one's Spirit itself—what were a few paltry tens of thousands?
Practically being given away for free.
This moment, his gratitude for Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo reached its peak.
If not for these two elder brothers dragging him here today…
He would have missed his only chance to stand before this heaven-sent grace.
Mimicking the posture of the two Elders before him, he respectfully placed the menu down.
Then, with a sudden breath, he stood and bowed deeply toward Lin Feng.
His voice cracked with suppressed sobs.
"S-Senior!
Junior wants a serving of Flying Cloud Leopard Minced Meat Noodles…
a serving of Five-Delicacy Stewed Ribs…
and… and a pot of Beast Blood Nectar Wine!"
He nearly roared—terrified that too soft a voice would make the Senior overlook his repentance.
The rocking chair, which had been lazily swaying all this time, stopped.
Lin Feng stood up.
He didn't spare the solemn Elders even a glance.
He simply walked toward the back kitchen with his usual unhurried steps.
In their eyes, that figure was stepping into another world—off to forge miracles with his own hands.
Just as he lifted the curtain, his steps paused.
Without turning around, a calm, emotionless voice drifted toward Hu Liena, Xie Yue, and Pig-Head Yan.
"Their dishes will take some time."
"Before I return, you three… can think of something."
Then he vanished behind the curtain.
The three stood stunned—before fiery determination ignited in their eyes.
The Senior… hadn't forgotten them.
He had even spoken to them first.
Such compassion—
Such magnanimity—
How could mortals comprehend it?
As soon as Lin Feng entered the back kitchen—
His "divine" aura instantly collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
He slumped against the counter like a pile of mud.
Act. Keep acting. One day I'll win an Oscar for this…
Dealing with a group of Titled Douluo was more exhausting than flipping a wok a thousand times.
Especially mentally.
"System," he grumbled internally while pulling out top-grade ingredients,
"are these leeks of yours missing screws or what?"
"Look at their eyes! If I farted, they'd immediately comprehend the thirteen profound truths of heaven and earth hidden in that fart!"
The System finally chimed in, dripping with disdain.
"Host, have you grown so useless that even harvesting leeks feels difficult?"
"That's not the point!" Lin Feng's mouth twitched as he cleanly sliced through a Kylin rib.
"It's just… this shop feels like something's missing."
"What?" the System asked coldly.
"I mean—sure, I'm the chef. But why do I have to serve dishes, wipe tables, clean everything?"
He complained while tossing ingredients into the pot.
"Can't I hire some waiters?"
He only muttered it casually, expecting no answer.
After all, the System was good at being snarky, not helpful.
But—
This time, to his surprise—
"Host raises a valid suggestion."
The System's aloof voice carried a rare note of approval.
"After today's business concludes, this System will consider recruiting a few appropriate 'waiters' for the Host."
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