Grandmother's Victory

Dense Geometric Shapes rained down, striking the pot atop the God of Cookery's head with a constant clatter.

Judging by the pot's steady descent, its "defensive" capability clearly had its limits.

So, to deal with Robin's attack—which had obviously held nothing back from the start—the God of Cookery had no choice but to temporarily set down the ingredients in his hands and begin responding.

"Whoosh!"

The God of Cookery rose from within the range of Hell's Kitchen, then took the initiative to brace himself beneath the enormous pot.

Compared to the pot, the God of Cookery's body looked so small it could practically be called "tiny," but with him supporting it from below, its downward momentum truly stopped.

But...

In a sense, this had also accomplished the goal.

"That chef's been pinned down," Seagull said excitedly. "Nice work, Robin!"

"As long as he keeps suppressing him without pause, doesn't that mean he won't be able to free up his hands at all? Wouldn't that mean Robin wins outright?"

Seagull was extremely optimistic. He had practically already popped the champagne.

However, Bifang poured cold water on him.

"What are you thinking? He flew up there on his own. That means he must have made preparations."

Sure enough, after Bifang finished speaking, the God of Cookery, who was supporting the pot in the sky, took out the loudspeaker again and began speaking to Hell's Kitchen below.

"Sous Chef! Get your people moving!"

After the God of Cookery spoke, a voice rang out from inside the kitchen.

"As you command, Head Chef!"

Then, a... lobster wearing a chef's uniform and a tall chef's hat leaped out of the tank.

It had been mixed in with the seafood the entire time, and almost no one had noticed it.

The blue-green lobster immediately leaped in