"It's been so quiet lately. How boring!"
Ever since discovering that only genuine combat could push him over that final hurdle, Gustave felt restless lying idle on the Bamboo Staff.
But in the Dragon Raja world, only two opponents could truly challenge Gustave—the Black King and the White King, and both would need to be in their complete forms. Although Gustave knew the White King's whereabouts, he had no idea how long it would take for that dragon to recover to full strength. As for the Black King, everything depended on Lu Mingfei's development.
There were quite a few powerful monsters and aliens in Tiga's world, but they were too strong—Gustave simply couldn't defeat them at his current level.
Could he go to Lin Jiu's world instead? Tu Shanyan had mentioned there were quite a few beings with similar strength to Gustave there, but those immortals were all connected to the Upper Realm. If Gustave challenged them without proper reason and provoked their celestial superiors, it would be far too embarrassing to need the Moral Lord to rescue him.
Gustave felt thoroughly uncomfortable because he couldn't find a suitable opponent.
Some might wonder—couldn't he simply spar with Po?
No. Ever since Po had begun practicing the cultivation techniques given by the Moral Lord, his strength had become far too overwhelming. Gustave simply couldn't defeat him anymore. Moreover, Po and Gustave would never fight each other with killing intent during sparring matches, so such contests wouldn't help Gustave break through his bottleneck.
Just as Gustave was sighing over his predicament, a bald man in a cape came down the stairs.
"Anyone here?!"
After emerging from the Gate of All Worlds, Saitama discovered the first floor was empty, so he started shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Coming!"
Hearing the call, Gustave quickly rose from his recliner, waved his hand enthusiastically, and trotted over to greet Saitama.
"Saitama! You haven't visited in quite a while!"
Gustave said with a welcoming smile.
"I've been exercising recently, so I haven't had much time to come over," Saitama replied, scratching his shiny bald head. He wasn't being entirely truthful.
Ever since first visiting the Bamboo Staff, Saitama had become obsessed with Gustave's cooking, but he was genuinely short on money, and the restaurant's prices were somewhat steep for his meager hero salary. That was why he hadn't returned.
The reason he'd come this time was because Saitama had finally saved up enough money and felt he could afford a proper meal at the Bamboo Staff.
"Exercise is excellent! Only with a healthy body can you fully enjoy delicious food," Gustave said.
Honestly, Gustave envied Saitama tremendously—the man who had broken his limiter. He could exercise casually every day and wake up stronger than the day before, never worrying about encountering bottlenecks like Gustave constantly did.
"You're absolutely right! I completely agree with that philosophy. In fact, I exercise every day specifically so I can enjoy more delicious food in the future."
Saitama nodded enthusiastically. He was genuinely happy to meet someone like Gustave who shared his ideals.
"By the way, Saitama, come see what you'd like to eat. Same as before—you order, I cook."
Gustave led Saitama over to the refrigerator.
"Let me take a look."
Saitama began examining what ingredients were available today.
"Gustave, can you make hot pot here?"
Saitama suddenly remembered the individual hot pot he'd seen advertised on TV a few days ago. The introduction had sounded incredibly tempting.
"No problem! I've got everything you need for hot pot!"
Gustave patted his chest confidently. Hot pot was actually quite simple to prepare—he just needed to prepare the soup base properly.
"Then could you please make me a small hot pot with tomato soup base?"
Among the various hot pot styles Saitama had seen on TV recently, the tomato hot pot had looked the most appetizing.
"Absolutely. What would you like to go with it?"
Gustave brought over a small plate. Whatever ingredients Saitama wanted, he would retrieve from the refrigerator and place on the plate for easy serving later.
"Oh, I want this one."
Saitama pointed to a green leafy vegetable. He'd never seen this particular variety before and wanted to try its flavor.
"Perfect! That's watercress—it's excellent in hot pot."
Gustave took a portion of watercress and placed it on the plate.
"I'd like this too—the layered tofu."
"No problem."
One by one, Saitama made his selections.
Saitama ordered three types of meat in total: beef, lamb, and sea bass. These three proteins were absolutely perfect when thinly sliced and cooked in hot pot. Then he chose five vegetable dishes: watercress, layered tofu, bean curd skin, frozen tofu, and potato slices—all classic hot pot accompaniments.
"Alright! Just find a comfortable seat, and the hot pot will be ready shortly."
Gustave arranged all the ingredients Saitama had chosen, placing them neatly on a single tray before stepping into the kitchen. The moment he crossed the threshold, faint static crackled across his fingertips, a subtle sign of the power he was about to weave into the dish.
Preparing a tomato soup base was simple in theory, yet in his hands it became almost ceremonial. He filled a pot with water and, with a gentle snap of his fingers, sent a thin ribbon of blue lightning skimming across the surface. The water began to boil instantly, bubbling with steady, controlled heat. He dropped in the fresh tomatoes, watching their skins loosen and curl from the flash-boil. Once softened, he transferred the tomatoes into cold water, the steam hissing softly against his electrically warmed palms.
Gustave peeled the skins in smooth motions, the warm fruit releasing a sweet, garden-fresh aroma. He diced the tomatoes into small, glistening chunks and set them aside.
Next came the wok. He flicked his hand downward, a tiny arc of electricity dancing along the iron surface, preheating it evenly. A swirl of oil shimmered and released a faint, nutty fragrance as soon as it touched the pan. Gustave added sliced onions, ginger, bay leaves, star anise, and cinnamon. The ingredients sizzled instantly, releasing waves of aroma that curled through the air like warm fingers beckoning someone closer.
Then he added the chopped tomatoes. The wok flared, a brief blue sparkle rippling underneath as he guided the heat with precise bursts of static. The tomatoes softened quickly, melting down with each turn of the ladle until they reached a thick, glossy consistency reminiscent of fresh tomato paste. Their color deepened into a rich scarlet, almost glowing against the crackling blue reflections in the wok.
A typical home cook would add water here and season with salt and sugar. But Gustave was no ordinary cook, and this was no ordinary kitchen.
He lifted a ladle of golden chicken broth, rich with depth, and let it cascade slowly into the softened tomatoes. Lightning hummed quietly along his wrist, melding the flavors seamlessly without scorching them. The fragrance blossomed at once, warm and layered: fresh tomato acidity, aromatic spices, and the comforting roundness of the broth forming a perfect harmony.
The kitchen filled with the scent of something simultaneously homely and extraordinary, like a classic dish elevated by the hand of someone who understood both flavor and power.
"Tomato hot pot is ready!"
Gustave emerged from the kitchen carrying a small hot pot in one hand and a portable gas burner in the other, but Saitama—who was supposed to be eating hot pot—was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Saitama?"
Gustave found a suitable table, set everything down, then began searching for his missing customer.
Finally, he spotted Saitama on the beach, competing with Po in push-ups.
"Saitama! Your hot pot is ready!"
Gustave stood on the deck and called out loudly toward the beach.
Hearing the voice, Saitama stopped his push-ups and looked at Po:
"Po, would you like to join me for hot pot?"
"No thank you, I just finished eating."
Po smiled and politely declined Saitama's kind invitation.
"Then shall we postpone our competition until next time?"
"No problem! I'll be waiting for your challenge."
After agreeing to compete again in the future, Saitama rose from the ground, clapped the sand from his hands, and walked back toward the Bamboo Staff. From behind, his distinctive pigeon-toed gait was clearly visible.
Seeing Saitama returning, Gustave went back inside to bring out the sliced beef, lamb, and fish.
"Sorry about that. I got a bit restless sitting here alone, so I went out to exercise with them for a while."
Seeing Gustave bringing out the ingredients, Saitama bowed apologetically.
"That's my fault for making you wait. You don't need to apologize."
Gustave found Saitama's sudden formal apology both amusing and endearing.
After all the ingredients were served, Saitama gazed at the bubbling red soup in the pot, his appetite immediately stimulated. Moreover, the tomato soup base Gustave had prepared looked even more delicious than what he'd seen on television.
"Time to eat!"
Saitama declared enthusiastically. He picked up his chopsticks, selected several slices of beef, and placed them in the tomato broth to cook. After the meat changed color, he transferred them to his mouth.
"This is absolutely delicious! Gustave, your cooking skills are as outstanding as always!"
Saitama gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Haha, if it tastes good, then eat as much as you'd like!"
Gustave couldn't help but smile. Saitama's personality was genuinely endearing.