Chef in the Apocalypse

"No matter. In the end you have done well. Now leave me, I have some things to attend to." The leader said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Yes Leader!" The three men said in unison before duck-walking there way back to the front door. They did not dare to stand up straight in the presence of their leader, lest they receive another round of punishment.

Watching the three leave while not standing up, Amon held back a laugh. He had created a reputation for himself through brutality, becoming somewhat of a dictator rather than a leader.

While he did hate being looked down upon, it was not something that would cause him to react in such a way. After all, he was not an unreasonable person, more like a calculating one.

By creating such a cruel persona, he was able to mold and shape those around him to bend to his will. He would become the king of the new world, an infallible existence that would strike fear into all those who heard the name Amon.

The problem was, by looks alone he was not that intimidating. In fact, seeing him in person would actually have the opposite effect, sometimes even producing laughter from the other party.

This was when he knew that he would have to change his approach. Starting with his own faction, he cruelly enforced his own brutality upon them, forcing them to fear and obey his orders.

Throughout the last 12 months, he had been raiding and pillaging all through Eastern Europe. Those who submitted would join him, while those who refused died painful deaths.

There were over 5,000 people under his banner at this moment, making him feel like a king. However, it was not enough.

How could he call himself a king of the new world with only 5,000 subjects? The problem was, he had no reliable means of transport to travel the world and spread his influence.

That was when he received the teleportation array blueprints from Let Me Cook. He was like a starving man on a deserted island who had been given a meal.

He gazed upon the unconscious woman in front of him, a large grin spreading onto his features. The woman’s lips were no longer blue and the warmth of the fire seemed to have returned some color to her skin.

"You really have good taste Let Me Cook." Amon said, licking his lips.

However in the next moment he suddenly got a notification which popped up in front of him, grabbing his attention.

A silhouette of a person appeared on his screen, startling him.

"Dwarven Warrior, did you succeed?" The figure asked, its voice clearly modified.

Amon cringed after hearing that name that he hated. When he had first jumped into the VR capsule and started up Cataclysm: World’s End, he was assigned a name and a hidden class without any input.

The moment he saw his name he swore and cursed out the games creators and their 9 generations. Out of all the names he could have been given, he was called a dwarf.

He tried to create a new character, even uninstalling the game in order to do so, yet there was nothing he could do. Eventually he accepted his fate, even praising the hidden class that came along with the disgusting name.

Little did he know, this name would follow him once the world collapsed. Now it was not only limited to a game that he played to past the time, his whole identity was that of the Dwarven Warrior.

"Ahem. We succeeded in killing over half of the participants in the feast and over 30 supporters." Amon held his annoyance in and cleared his throat, reporting to the figure.

"Supporters?" The figure paused for a moment. "Ah, yes the Fated Ones. Very good."

Amon raised his eyebrow at this new sign of address, but quickly put it to the back of his mind. He had to clarify something with this figure.

"Was the prison you gave us faulty?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No. I can guarantee the quality of the products we gave you. Why do you ask?" The figure responded flatly, not appreciating the question.

Amon resisted the urge to scoff at those words, choosing to frown instead.

"Let Me Cook broke out of it in under 10 minutes. If it wasn’t for the killing array being so effective we would have failed the mission."

"What!? That prison can hold a Core Formation cultivator for at least 30 minutes." The figure blurted out, before covering its mouth hastily.

Amon remained silent, waiting for the figure to continue. Now that he had delivered the news, he was sure that they would now have a better grip on Jayce’s strength and would be better prepared next time.

"Ahem. No matter, we will make adjustments next time. Did you retrieve the woman?" The figure asked after a moment.

"Yes. She’s in the room with me." Amon turned, bringing the woman’s unconscious body into frame so that the figure could see it.

"Very good. We can proceed with the next part of the plan now that we know Let Me Cook will come and try to rescue her."

Amon nodded. For some reason, these people were obsessed with Jayce. However he was not too worried, after all...

"Is our deal still in effect? Once we kill Let Me Cook you will call off the invasion and let me reign as king of Earth?" Amon asked, his gaze serious.

"Of course, swore upon the heavens remember?" The figure answered, waving his hand dismissively.

"Good. As long as you didn’t forget." He replied, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

"Let Me Cook will not move hastily. Make sure that woman is in one piece, otherwise he could just abandon her and our plan would be for nothing. I will contact you when the time is right."

After the figure said those words, the connection cut instantly, leaving Amon and the unconscious woman alone in the room.

Somewhere else within the universe, a shrouded figure sat back in its chair with its hands behind its head and let out a laugh.

"Kekeke what an idiot. We’ll let you be king of Earth, however don’t blame me when your world dies."