"Perfect timing." Snail Mo Wang slowly dragged an unremarkable-looking mandarin-duck copper hotpot out of the shell that seemed to be connected to some endless warehouse. Yet the pot faintly radiated the law-like fluctuation of "anything and everything can be boiled." Along with it came several big bags of frozen "ingredients" from various eras or dimensions—including but not limited to angel wing tips, sliced Archon tentacles, slime jelly, and Cthulhu-flavored baby octopus—as well as a jar of liquor dug up from who knew what spacetime.
"'Event compensation' from the monkey. Never had a chance to use it." Snail Mo Wang's tone was flat, as if taking all this out was merely convenient.
Director Mo Wang silently reached into the pocket of his uniform, which seemed capable of producing any "daily necessity," and pulled out several sets of bowls and chopsticks, even a can of bean sprouts that looked extremely spicy.
H-rated Pokémon Mo Wang whistled and took out a few "berries." Their colors were bizarre, but their fragrance was tempting. "They can add different attribute buffs. Though here, they might only have flavor left."
And then this bunch started drinking, singing, and getting hyped.
"I'm telling you, those angels? Their wings look pretty, but once you roast them, they scream like pigs being slaughtered!" Snail Mo Wang slurped down something that might have been an Archon tentacle and started ranting through a drunken burp.
"Pigs being slaughtered? When I dealt with traitors and monsters back home, it wasn't quiet either." Dante Mo Wang elegantly sliced cheese, though his eyes had already begun to drift.
"That's all small-time!" Director Mo Wang downed a gulp of liquor, red light glowing in his dead-fish eyes. "On my end, you have to use love and fists to correct twisted 'love,' damn it!"
And just then,