After some time, when the group had relaxed and begun chatting, Sisu suddenly became the most revered person among them.
And the manager of UFC himself arrived.
He was a haggard young man, bald, with only a small goatee… which twitched and literally grew a few centimeters as he entered.
His entire presence radiated the aura of someone carrying profound regret.
"These are the ones?" he asked, tone heavy with doom as his goatee stretched a bit longer.
The attendant nodded furiously.
The manager sighed deeply.
"What terrible luck…" he muttered.
"We have to use the favor now…"
He straightened, forcing a polite smile.
"Esteemed guests," he began, "your luck is… absurd possibly Heaven favored, because of this opportunity… I must ask that you wait briefly."
He raised a finger.
"The Immortal Level Spirit Chef is not someone who can be summoned on a whim. And as your senior, allow me to remind you whoever arrives, be respectful."
His voice grew grave.
