Additional Rules for the Battle of Wits

"Everyone in the audience, the current score is one victory each! Both sides are back at the same starting line!"

"Next up is a match between 'Zhigeng' and 'Master Chef'—who will win this round and secure match point? Let's wait and see!"

"Are both contestants ready?"

The host's voice rang out, and the God of Cookery spoke lazily.

"Everything's OK on my end!"

"N-no no no no no... n-no problem!"

Zhigeng answered loudly, though she stammered.

Standing on the Arena under everyone's attention clearly made her somewhat uncomfortable.

After both contestants replied, the stone tiles beneath their feet rose once more and transformed into the setting for the "falling" theme.

Zhigeng stood where she was, gripping her paintbrush without moving an inch.

The God of Cookery, on the other hand, looked relaxed.

He stretched, then took out a large white megaphone.

"Testing, testing. Can you hear me?"

The God of Cookery spoke through the megaphone, his voice echoing throughout the arena.

Zhigeng froze for a moment, then nodded and called back, "I can hear you. What's up?"

The two of them had actually started chatting in the middle of the Arena.

The God of Cookery began, "Here's the thing, friend. My teammates were injured or used their trump cards in the last two matches, so in the next [Instance], we'll need to leave at least one reasonably intact 'Tier 3' to take them through. On top of that, I'm a pretty laid-back person, so... I was thinking, maybe we shouldn't fight to the death."

"You 'Night Watchers' and 'Order' also have heavy responsibilities. It wouldn't be a good thing for all of you to exhaust yourselves and use every trump card, right?"

As the God of Cookery spoke, Zhigeng hesitated.

"But we still have to determine a winner, don't we?"