Chapter 31: Gourmet Illusion

At almost the exact same moment, everyone on the ship smelled a nose-triggering aroma of food. Before the feeding center in their hypothalamus could even issue a "feed" command, their vision blurred, and they fell one after another into an illusion woven from the scent of delicacies.

Angell was no exception.

Before his eyes floated various magnificent, brightly colored delicacies that made one long to feast upon them. Combined with the rich aroma swirling around his nose that refused to dissipate, Angell subconsciously reached out to grab a nearby honey-glazed roasted chicken leg.

When a certain desire expands infinitely, it can affect all of a person's physiological indicators, including reason. In other words, desire can interfere with the reception of electrical signals in the brain; when desire swells, information cannot safely reach the rational brain. At such times, what governs a person's thoughts is the emotional brain, or rather, the instinctive brain. The essence of humanity remains animalistic. The instinctive brain is responsible for this part, synthesizing emotion and desire to express primal instincts, much like an animal.

As the desire to eat filled Angell's brain, he became utterly irrational. His logic became chaotic and his thoughts sluggish, as if he were an animal.

Not just Angell, but all the ordinary people on the ship were controlled by the urge to eat, roaring madly and casting the utmost greed upon the food within the illusion.

Just as Angell was about to indulge in the tidal wave of appetite, an itch more unbearable than hunger appeared near his scapula on his back.

There was no way to trace where this itch originated or where it flowed. But it came with such ferocity that, like the foam of a fine beer that erupts before the bottle is even opened after a bumpy journey, it instantly covered everything else.

Itched—

So itchy—

It felt as if thousands of ants were crawling back and forth deep within his bones.

This was true itching that went straight to the marrow.

The sudden itching was not entirely a disadvantage; at the very least, that maddening urge to eat retreated step by step before this torrential wave of itching.

Anything that possesses a crack has the potential to be overturned. Reason is the same; it is originally controlled by emotion, unable to rise under pressure. But even if emotion relaxes by a fraction, reason will rise to a higher ground.

The itching stripped Angell of even his appetite, causing him to reach back and scratch repeatedly. However, the itch came quickly and left just as fast. By the time the itching stopped abruptly, Angell found that his appetite had completely vanished. Without the hunger, the illusion woven from the scent of food could no longer affect his reason.

Looking at the various foods still floating beside him, Angell felt a surge of lingering fear. For he knew very well that where the honey-glazed roasted chicken leg had been, there was no food at all—it was clearly the lamp wax he usually used.

If he had eaten the lamp wax thinking it was a chicken leg... Angell shuddered violently; the consequences would have been unthinkable!

He didn't dare touch those culinary illusions again.

Those capable of creating such illusions were either naturally occurring sea beasts or powerful Wizards. Angell did not dare speculate on the intentions of such transcendent beings, but he was also unwilling to be dominated by desire again. Looking at the culinary illusions before him, he simply closed his eyes, adopting an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude.

Perhaps the transcendent being who created the food illusion did not harbor heavy killing intent; since Angell did not touch the illusions, they did not come to trouble him again, which allowed Angell to breathe a great sigh of relief.

Only then did Angell begin to recall his memories from when he was dominated by appetite.

After a long pause, Angell touched his back in confusion—

The itch was in this same spot again. What was going on? This had happened more than once, and every time it was strange—coming fast and leaving fast, with nothing unusual to be felt upon touching it.

Angell's brow furrowed deeply. He knew very well that there was nothing abnormal about the area where it itched, at least on the surface. The only unusual thing was likely that during the talent test, he had been scratched by a bizarre woman within the "illusion."

At first, Angell thought it might have been a mere illusion created by the Eye of Abilas, because after his talent test ended, he had specifically checked himself in a mirror and found no scars on his back.

But with the recent occurrences of various abnormal itches, he began to suspect that perhaps that world was not an illusion... but rather, as speculated during the talent test, a bizarre world parallel to reality.

The place on his back where he had been scratched might contain the energy of that bizarre world, causing his current various conditions.

Angell did not know if his guess was correct, but with his current level of insight, this was the only guess he could make.

Would the itching come again? Besides the itching, would there be even worse conditions? He did not know. Under the threat of the unknown, Angell secretly decided in his heart that if he could get through this crisis, he must tell Moro about his situation the next time they met.

Time would not allow him to delay; who knew if his life might be threatened during the next bout of itching? Therefore, he could only seek help from Moro in the short term, rather than waiting until he had mastered his studies to investigate on his own.

While Angell was lost in thought, the *Bauhinia* had already sailed into the depths of the mist, and a group of people had reached the source of the "fragrant illusion."

Aboard the back of a massive Falcon Demon, Sanders, wearing a top hat and exuding an elegant aristocratic aura, remained silent. Flora, wearing a mysterious smile, sat on the edge of the Falcon Demon's wing, eyeing the people standing on the *Bauhinia* with ill intent.

On the deck of the *Bauhinia*, led by Sabo, five people stood on each side. In addition to the guides from the three great Wizard organizations, Moro and Isley, who had just advanced to a Level 1 Wizard Apprentice, were also present.

After observing Sabo and the others for a while, Flora suddenly gave a light laugh and said in a strange voice that was both childish and seductive, "Hee hee hee, Mad Bear Sabo, when did you take up a part-time job as a nanny? Are you bringing a group of children along to nurse them?"

The guides of the three great Wizard academies, referred to as "children," silently lowered their heads.

Though Sabo felt anger at Flora's sarcasm, he did not dare make any move in front of Sanders. He could only pretend not to hear the mockery and responded with a forced, hearty laugh.

"Hahaha, the Blood Witch jokes too much. It's a rare chance to encounter Graea's Restaurant; these inexperienced youngsters all want to go and broaden their horizons," Sabo explained with a laugh.

Flora narrowed her beautiful eyes and sneered inwardly. "Broadening horizons" was a lie; they really just wanted to mooch food and drink in Graea's Restaurant... However, Graea was not an easy chef to deal with. Wanting to mooch? Not a chance!

Graea was a typical member of that group of madmen from the "Candy House." Do not be fooled by their giggling and madness; when it came to matters of principle, they would not yield an inch.

And there was only one way to enter Graea's Restaurant: possess an invitation card.

Without an invitation card, even if you were a Legendary Wizard, Graea would dare to refuse you.

This time, in order to enter Graea's Restaurant, Sanders had paid a significant price to obtain a Bronze-level invitation card.

Heh, Flora suddenly felt a sense of anticipation for the expressions these ruffians would make when they learned the truth.

(End of Chapter)