Life was like a play-someone would always screw you over

Qin Fen felt deeply wounded. Ma Liang had dug one hell of a pit, dragging the island nation's entire mythological history into it—and Qin Fen along with it. Damn that Wu Daozi. Qin Fen had no idea what to do now, but he had figured out one thing: forced to leave his homeland and come to the island nation, Ma Liang had been unable to follow the path of cultivation, so he had taken another route and founded a divine kingdom.

That was a truly unusual approach, proof that the guy was clever. It wasn't as though Chef Qin had never seen it before; there were successful precedents. But what was he supposed to do now? He had left the island nation, and Izanagi was offline. Where could he find him?

At the thought of that divine-kingdom route, Qin Fen's face darkened. Could Ma Liang have screwed over more than just the island nation? Impossible. That Western religion had an influence far beyond anything the island nation's native mythology could match. It was one of the world's big three, every bit the equal of the Buddhist School.

Besides, Ma Liang had lost the Magic Brush. He simply didn't have the resources to pull off anything that insane. So what exactly was going on?

And who had used the Treasure-Dropping Money to trade blows with him? The questions tangled together like a knotted mess.

Qin Fen thought until his head nearly exploded. Life was easier when you didn't give a damn. He scratched his forehead. Screw this. I'm done agonizing over it.

He stopped agonizing, but things worth agonizing over tended to stick to Big Chef through thick and thin.

Fu Qiang and Song Shaoqing hadn't returned, but several people walked in through the door. Qin Fen looked up and saw