59: A bloody experience, a demon in human skin!

Han Fei had never imagined that replicating someone else's ability could also become a form of torture.

Feeling the fragments of abilities continuously pouring into his body, Han Fei's muscles couldn't help but tense up.

The experience of gouging out human eyes.

From what angle to dig to inflict the most pain on the other party.

The experience of live dismemberment of a person.

How to separate them to make them live as long as possible, to witness their own body turn into a skeleton.

Deliciousness Exchange, when replicating abilities and experiences, would also copy some of the target's memories.

These bloody ability fragments, carrying the emotions and memories of their owner, crashed against Han Fei's worldview like a surging tide, mercilessly.

Every cruel detail was vividly reproduced before Han Fei's eyes.

He felt as if he had personally experienced countless times the entire process of tearing human eyes from their soft sockets.

The wailing of infants, the screams of young girls, the pleas of men... The desperate voices of the victims, even in the illusory memories, were so clear.

He tried to resist this overwhelming dark experience, but the memories were unstoppable, like a tide.

With each 'learning' session, Han Fei was forced to witness scene after scene of Hell on earth.

He saw his techniques becoming increasingly skilled; in the process of countless lives fading away, he learned how to choose the most cruel angles and forces based on the victim's physique and age, to elicit the most agonizing screams.

He saw himself recording the eyes of every victim; as they watched their bodies gradually turn into skeletons, their eyes changed from initial terror to despair, until finally numbness... Under the impact of these cruel experiences, a sense of uncontrollable pity and self-loathing rose deep within Han Fei's heart.

His muscles tensed to the point of twitching, and his stomach began to churn.

This was not just a physiological repulsion, but also an immense mental burden.

Han Fei couldn't help but look at Master Shang Shan, his gaze trembling uncontrollably.

He was absolutely certain that all these bloody experiences were replicated from Master Shang Shan.

This taste mentor, revered by thousands, was secretly a perverse demon who reveled in the suffering of others.

This extreme contrast made Han Fei feel a coldness that penetrated to his bones.

"How could Master Shang Shan be such a demon?"

An unspeakable mix of grief and confusion surged in Han Fei's heart.

Anyone present would likely find it hard to believe that such a venerable titan of the culinary world harbored such an extremely twisted dark side.

His methods of skinning and gouging out eyes were simply outrageous.

Han Fei only replicated a small portion and already felt nauseous.

This filled Han Fei with relief.

Fortunately, only a very small part of Magical Culinary Arts' power was used, and not many abilities were replicated.

If he had fully replicated them as before, Han Fei couldn't imagine how many bloody memories he would have endured.

Just then, Master Shang Shan, who was leisurely savoring the chili dish, suddenly locked his gaze on Han Fei.

Han Fei shuddered.

All the hairs on his body stood on end, and an alarm blared in his heart.

Although Master Shang Shan hadn't done anything yet, Han Fei had the illusion of a sharp blade held against his neck.

His life and death were entirely at the other party's whim!

In a panic, Han Fei hastily used his fear suppression ability, trying to calm his heartbeat.

At the same time, he controlled his muscles, trying his best not to show any abnormality.

However, the invisible pressure emanating from Master Shang Shan not only did not diminish but intensified like dark clouds pressing down on a city, causing cold sweat to stream down Han Fei's back.

Han Fei suppressed the urge to turn and run immediately, pondering whether Black Pupil could save him in time if Master Shang Shan suddenly attacked him.

Fortunately, at this moment, the bell in the host's hand rang.

Ding-a-ling ~

The clear bell sound echoed throughout the entire venue.

"Great Masters, time is up."

The host reminded them.

Master Shang Shan retracted his gaze.

Han Fei immediately felt the pressure on him recede like a tide.

He felt like a drowning person surfacing again, able to breathe.

"Damn it, this murderer is so terrifying."

Just a glance from Master Shang Shan filled his heart with an unspeakable fear.

The thought of escaping this place and exposing the truth spread like wildfire, quickly occupying Han Fei's heart, but it was soon extinguished by the cold water of reason.

He knew that without irrefutable evidence, it would be almost impossible for the Guard Team to arrest a giant like Master Shang Shan based solely on his word.

After all, the other party's identity was not simple; he was not only a titan of the culinary world but also a Level Two Privilege Citizen, with a status not much inferior to Han Fei's.

"But where can I find evidence?"

Han Fei frowned, his heart filled with confusion.

From the replicated memories, he learned that Master Shang Shan's killings were definitely not a matter of a day or two; he had been killing for at least several decades.

For such a long time, he had not been exposed.

His caution and the depth of his concealment made Han Fei sigh, realizing that finding a flaw would undoubtedly be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

As Han Fei pondered, the host had also finished asking the other four Great Masters for their answers.

Now it was Master Shang Shan's turn.

"Master Shang Shan, please tell everyone your answer."

The host's words carried a hint of reverence, and the entire audience held their breath in anticipation.

Master Shang Shan nodded slightly, an undeniable authority emanating from his demeanor.

He slowly raised the microphone in his hand and spoke each word clearly and coldly, as if dropping stones: "This dish cleverly combines three kinds of chili—the intensity of the sky-facing chili, the freshness of the bird's eye chili, and the rare richness of the Mòhǎi chili."

Upon hearing this, the audience below spontaneously turned their gaze towards Han Fei.

Immediately, there was thunderous applause.

It was an admiration for their coincidentally similar answers.

However, Han Fei had no time to pay attention to these things now; his mind was already tightly entangled with the challenge of how to reveal Master Shang Shan's true face.

Then Master Shang Shan continued: "The specific proportions are four parts sky-facing chili, three and a half parts bird's eye chili, and two and a half parts Mòhǎi chili."

After Master Shang Shan gave this answer, which was different from Han Fei's earlier one, the audience and Han Fei had no reaction yet, but the host's face changed dramatically first.

She bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure, her gaze subtly sweeping towards the leaders at the edge of the venue.

There, a similar look of bewilderment was gradually spreading.

The usually dignified organizers' leaders were now frowning, their eyes revealing unprecedented panic and disbelief.

What shocked them was not that Master Shang Shan's answer was different from Han Fei's.

It was that Master Shang Shan, this culinary titan, had actually misstated the chili proportions of an ordinary dish!

And this was after Han Fei had already given the correct answer!

To the organizers who knew the truth, this was nothing short of a bolt from the blue, overturning their understanding.

One leader almost incredulously questioned the person in charge beside him: "Did you guys get the answer wrong?!"

The person in charge's forehead was beaded with sweat, and he responded firmly: "Absolutely not possible. I personally supervised the entire process of making that dish. The bird's eye chili and Mòhǎi chili indeed each accounted for 30% of the proportion. There can be no mistake!"

Several other people in charge also echoed, their faces equally filled with astonishment and conviction.

For such an important conference, as supervisors, they naturally dared not be careless in the slightest.

"Then... why did Master Shang Shan give a different answer from yours?!" the leader asked anxiously.

The several people in charge looked at each other, not knowing how to answer.

How could they know why Master Shang Shan would make a mistake?

This was even more absurd than a math doctor making a mistake in single-digit addition and subtraction.

If it were other culinary experts who made the mistake, the organizers would have a better way to handle it.

But it just so happened that Master Shang Shan was the one who made the mistake.

He could be said to be the person least likely, and least expected, to make a mistake in the entire venue.

"What do we do now?!" The leader yelled at the people in charge nearby, "You guys quickly think of a solution!"

One person in charge cautiously suggested: "Couldn't we just change the answer?"

The leader directly rejected his suggestion, "No!"

Everyone looked at the leader in confusion.

The leader said solemnly: "The audience member who gave the correct answer also has a distinguished identity; he is a Level Three Privilege Citizen!"

Everyone gasped at the news.

Level Three Privilege Citizens, they couldn't afford to offend them!