Lust System: I will Cuck Everyone

The sickening crunch of the metal disposal blades slowly faded into a dull, mechanical hum, leaving the sprawling Azure Harbor Marina smothered in a heavy, suffocating silence, since the elite crowd of billionaires and rival chefs stared at the empty silk cushion in sheer shock.

Chef Francois stood near the grinding machine, wiping his sweaty hands on his pristine white apron, as a smug, self-satisfied grin stretched across his face, fully believing he had just saved the culinary world from a massive scam.

His sycophantic lackeys immediately broke the silence, cheering loudly and clapping their hands, as they pointed mocking fingers directly at Rick’s presentation table.

"Chef Francois exposed the fraud!" a sous-chef yelled to the wealthy onlookers, puffing his chest out to share his master’s fake glory. "This poor hotel cook tried to pass off a dirty piece of carved wood as a priceless artifact, but true Michelin dragons are never fooled by cheap tricks!"

"Security should arrest him right now!" another rival cook sneered, resting his hands on his hips. "He insulted the Patriarchs of the culinary realm and wasted our valuable time, so throw him out of the marina and ban him from ever holding a knife again!"

Elder Chen remained kneeling on the teakwood deck, weeping over the loss of a true national treasure, but the wealthy real estate moguls and snooty socialites in the audience began murmuring among themselves, heavily swaying toward Francois’s confident narrative, because their frog-in-a-well mentalities trusted shiny corporate badges over quiet mastery.

Francois took a heavy step forward, raising his chin to look down his nose at Rick, as he basked in the validation of the murmuring crowd.

"You see what happens when a peasant tries to cheat the heavens?!" Francois boasted loudly, his thick French accent echoing through the high-end PA system. "My corporate sponsors at the Neptune Platinum Market hold the ultimate monopoly on rare ingredients, meaning your pathetic little carving was destined for the garbage bin the second you brought it onto my stage!"

Rick did not panic, nor did he yell to defend his ruined ingredient, as a dark, highly villainous smirk stretched across his sharp jawline, finding the barking of a crippled dog incredibly entertaining.

Instead of arguing with the arrogant fool, Rick pulled his hands from his pockets and began a slow, deliberate clap, as the sharp sound of his palms smacking together sliced through the cheers of the lackeys and forced the entire marina back into a tense silence.

"That was a very bold move, Francois," Rick mocked lazily, stepping around his presentation table with the relaxed swagger of an apex predator cornering its prey. "It takes a very special kind of disabled frog to purposely shred an artifact worth hundreds of millions of dollars just to stroke his own fragile ego."

Francois scoffed loudly, adjusting his shiny culinary medals, blind to the massive shadow of Mount Tai looming over his head.

"It was a piece of rotting driftwood, you pathetic scammer!" Francois sneered, pointing a finger at Rick’s black uniform. "I already told everyone here that the Neptune Platinum Market tracks every single real treasure on the globe, so your stupid little lie is over!"

"Since you trust the Neptune Platinum Market so much, let’s ask the General Manager," Rick replied smoothly, casually pulling his sleek titanium phone from his pocket, tapping the screen with his rough thumb.

Rick walked directly over to the main announcer’s podium, grabbing the heavy broadcast microphone, as he held his phone right next to the receiver, ensuring the call would project clearly across the massive speaker system for every single billionaire and critic to hear.

"Hahaha! Look at him pretending to call a corporate executive!" Francois wheezed maliciously, looking at his lackeys to encourage their laughter. "He is probably dialing a local grocery store to ask for a refund on his cheap yam! This is pathetic!"

The phone rang exactly twice, breaking the tense atmosphere of the marina, before a panicked, heavy voice answered on the other end, carrying an undeniable tone of pure reverence.

"B-Boss!" General Manager Zhou’s voice echoed loudly through the massive stadium speakers, dripping with extreme, tail-wagging obedience, acting exactly like a loyal dog eager to please its master. "To what do I owe the honor of this call? Did my security team deliver the special package safely to the Expo?"

Francois’s arrogant smile froze in an instant, as a tiny bead of cold sweat formed on his forehead, because his small brain recognized the familiar voice of his supreme supply-chain manager.

"They did, Zhou," Rick answered flatly, his deadpan eyes locking directly onto Francois’s pale face. "But I need you to confirm something for a very confused, uneducated cook standing on my stage. Tell the people here exactly what you sent me from the deepest level of the corporate vault."

Zhou did not hesitate for a single second, eager to prove his worth to the phantom billionaire who held his entire career in the palm of his hand.

"I sent you the authentic Emperor’s Black Lotus Root, Boss!" Zhou declared loudly, his voice booming across the silent docks, causing the jaws of the surrounding billionaires and rival chefs to drop simultaneously. "It is the genuine, mythical masterpiece! The previous owners kept it locked in a stasis chamber for decades, and I was incredibly honored to arrange the armored transport to deliver it directly into your hands yesterday!"

The entire Azure Harbor Expo fell into a dead, horrifying silence, as the salty ocean breeze rushing past the pavilions became the only sound in the area, leaving thousands of guests staring at the spinning metal disposal blades with wide, bloodshot eyes.

Elder Chen stopped weeping, raising his wrinkled head from the deck, as a massive wave of vindication washed over his old face, proving his flawless sixty years of appraisal experience was never wrong.

"N-no... that cannot be real," Francois stammered pathetically, as all the blood drained from his face, leaving him looking like a sick ghost, his knees shaking uncontrollably under his decorated white coat. "GM Zhou... is that really you?"

Zhou heard the familiar voice through the speaker, as his tone instantly shifted from groveling reverence to cold, furious corporate authority.

"Who is speaking?!" Zhou demanded aggressively, insulted that a mere client dared to interrupt his conversation with the supreme god of the market. "Are you questioning my ledger in front of the ultimate Boss?!"

"I am... I am Executive Chef Francois," the French chef whispered, his voice cracking with pure terror, as the crushing gravity of his colossal mistake threatened to snap his spine in half. "I am a sponsored chef under the Neptune banner..."

Rick let out a dark, booming laugh that sent shivers down the spines of every single elite guest, stepping away from the podium and walking directly toward the trembling rival.

"You really failed to see Mount Tai, Francois," Rick stated coldly, dropping the ultimate execution blade right onto the man’s neck. "You didn’t just shred a priceless national treasure in front of the city’s elite. You did it right in front of the man who legally owns one hundred percent of the Neptune Platinum Market."

"I am your supreme boss," Rick declared, his voice carrying the suffocating weight of an apex predator.

Francois’s legs gave out, as his fragile ego shattered into dust, collapsing heavily onto his knees right on the teakwood deck, weeping openly as the mind-shattering reality destroyed his brain.

He had just destroyed an artifact worth hundreds of millions of dollars, relying on a corporate shield that literally belonged to the man he was trying to humiliate.

"Boss Zhou!" Rick spoke into the microphone, ignoring the pathetic trash groveling at his feet. "This disabled frog just threw my property into a blender. Terminate his sponsorship contract right this second, strip him of his supply line access, and blacklist his name from every single premium vendor on the globe."

"Consider it done instantly, Boss!" Zhou roared back through the speakers, furious that an underling had offended the supreme shareholder. "He will never buy a single grain of salt in this industry again! I am tearing up his contract right now!"

"Wait! No! It is a lie! He hired an actor!" Francois shrieked hysterically, grasping at straws as his entire life vanished before his eyes, pointing a shaking finger at Rick’s phone. "You cannot own the Neptune Market! You are a hotel cook!"

Rick sneered, pulling a second heavy, pitch-black titanium card from his uniform pocket, tossing it casually onto the wooden deck right in front of Francois’s bleeding knees.

It was the official, globally registered Michelin Board Executive Card, stamped with the supreme fifteen percent majority shareholder seal, glowing dangerously under the bright stage lights.

"I also own a massive controlling stake in the Global Michelin Star Rating Board," Rick mocked lazily, watching the final shred of hope die in Francois’s eyes. "Which means I am officially stripping you of your three stars, permanently revoking your culinary licenses, and ensuring you spend the rest of your miserable life scrubbing dirty pots in a fast-food diner."

"No! Please, Boss! I swear I didn’t know!" Francois sobbed hysterically, crawling forward on his hands and knees, tears streaming down his sweaty face as he raised his hands in a desperate plea for mercy. "I was just trying to impress the crowd! Please forgive my blind ignorance! I will be your most loyal dog!"

Rick ruthlessly kicked the French chef’s reaching hands away, showing zero pity for a venomous snake that just tried to bite him.

"You owe me three hundred million dollars for the root you just shredded," Rick stated coldly, his deadpan gaze piercing Francois’s soul. "My corporate lawyers will seize your bank accounts, your cars, and whatever pathetic restaurants you own by tomorrow morning, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your back."

Rick turned his gaze toward the group of sycophantic lackeys standing near the prep stations, his eyes flashing with a dangerous killing intent.

"Security," Rick commanded, waving his hand toward the edge of the stage.

Six massive, heavily built tactical guards rushed onto the deck, grabbing Francois by his arms and hauling his limp, screaming body off the floor, hauling him backward toward the exit while his lackeys scattered like terrified rats, desperate to escape the wrath of the Culinary Emperor.

"Please! Give me another chance! I will pay for it!" Francois wailed pathetically, as the guards dragged him away, his voice fading into the salty ocean breeze, leaving a profound, awe-struck silence hanging over the marina.

The wealthy billionaires, snooty socialites, and rival chefs stared at Rick with wide, bulging eyes, realizing they had just witnessed a true god of wealth casually execute a Michelin grandmaster without breaking a single drop of sweat.

Elder Chen slowly pushed himself off the deck, leaning heavily on his wooden cane, as he walked directly toward Rick and bowed perfectly at a strict ninety-degree angle, showing the ultimate sign of respect.

"Master Smith," Elder Chen rasped, his voice trembling with genuine reverence. "You possess a foundation that defies the heavens, and your restraint in the face of such blind arrogance proves you are the undisputed king of this Expo. We are honored to stand in your presence."

The rest of the critics and judges immediately followed suit, standing up from their chairs and bowing deeply toward the stage, officially recognizing Rick as the supreme authority of the culinary realm.

Elena slipped past the velvet ropes, rushing across the teakwood deck in her stunning emerald gown, as she threw her arms tightly around Rick’s broad neck, pressing her heavy breasts against his black uniform.

"You are absolutely terrifying," Elena whispered breathlessly into his ear, her ice-blue eyes shining with intense pride and undeniable devotion, feeling incredibly safe in his massive shadow.

Rick wrapped his large arm around her narrow waist, pulling her curvy body flush against his side, as he looked out over his newly conquered domain, finding the sweet taste of victory highly entertaining.

Suddenly, a sharp, mechanical chime echoed directly inside his skull, projecting a translucent blue screen right into his line of sight.

[Ding! Expo Mastered. Dominance Asserted!]

[Objective: You flawless crushed the Michelin rival, exposed his pathetic arrogance, and established the Azure Harbor Expo as the premier culinary event in the mortal realm!]

[Reward: +10% Chef Occupation Progress!]

[Reward: +2000 Mischief Points Deposited into Account!]

[Current Chef Class Completion: 65%!]

Rick read the glowing text fading from his vision, as a dark, satisfied smirk stretched across his sharp jawline, feeling the massive surge of system power settle deep into his bones.

He stood victorious on the main stage, holding the beautiful Ice Queen in his arms, knowing his empire was expanding faster than the arrogant elites could ever hope to comprehend, ready to devour anyone foolish enough to block his path.