In the beaten up car park, the storm was abating, the wind had died down gradually, and rays of reddish golden sunlight began to shine through the parting clouds, embracing the grey asphalt in radiant warmth, and enveloping the fleet of Toyota Hiluxes, Utes and Ford Falcons in a picturesque halo of flowery description.
Old Man Li stroked his beard as he surveyed the scene.
"He's beginning… to believe."
He inwardly fistpumped like a magical girl since he has *always* wanted to say that.
Nevertheless, outwardly his face betrayed no hint of emotion, instead his eyes were like deep pools of tranquil calmness, where one got the feeling that even if you were to create a landslide, a burst bombardment of geological explosive diarrhoea, into those pools, the water would simply absorb the onslaught effortlessly and remain flawlessly serene.
Liquor guy grimaced as he heard the words, dealt heavy recoil damage from the cringe, but persevered and eventually overcame with the iron determination only known to those who have worked countless around-the-clock hours and shifts in retail.
"This is nothing," he muttered to himself, remembering the days of weekend unpaid overtime.
Meanwhile, Bob had finally finished absorbing the lightning energy from the tribulation in its entirety.
He hair was on end, and he had soot and burn marks everywhere, and there was a hole in his chest, but otherwise, his presence exuded the vigor and vitality of his newly acquired C++++++ grade genetic potential.
"Bob your Disciple greets master!"
Bob understood immediately that it was thanks to Old Man Li who had arranged things so he could have this opportunity.
____
Meanwhile, Reverend Eli had figured out from Jill's admission that the Ice Queen was none other than Sally.
Grabbing his briefcase, he donned his priestly attire and strode out of his unit.
It was time to pay Moreton High a visit.
____
"It was all by your own efforts. I did nothing," Old Man Li said graciously. Of course, that didn't stop him from quickly messaging all his Whatsupp groups, to pompously let slip that why yes , he had indeed acquired a personal disciple, Bob, who had successfully passed the thunder tribulations and had reached the C+++++++ grade of genetic quality! Thank you for asking!
___
Bob shook his head. He knew not to be complacent, being just a frog in a well, but he had understood that compliments were not something to be rejected, but to be integrated, as encouragement in order for him to continue to improve along the path of Rizzdom.
"Yes Master, I will continue to strive for further genetic quality,"
Bob kowtowed.
___
What might have been most impressive about all of this was that liquor guy, to his credit, didn't bat an eyelid and simply nodded at the scene that had unfolded and went back to his liquor counter.
Then again, it was to be expected, Bob reflected.
After all, as a liquor guy, what hadn't he seen in this world?
___
"Now for the next step," Old Man Li smiled warmly, rubbing his hands, looking like a used car salesman who had just sold a Holden Commodore at double the price under the pretext of it being a Toyota Corolla under the hood.
Liquor guy glanced at Bob - who, with a hole in his chest, hair frazzled, and whom he had personally witnessed hit squarely by what had appeared to be a shining dagger of ice courtesy of a masked guy dressed in cheap tactical combat gear, leading to the above-mentioned hole in the chest, as well as by several consecutive bolts of chain lightning, and hence was looking somewhat the worse for the wear - and called out from over the counter: "Want me to call an ambulance?"
Old Man Li ignored him, instead putting a hand around the shoulder of Bob, who spluttered out a few more dribbles of rye bread and soggy lettuce, but nevertheless had the tranquil eyes of an enlightened Rizzite, for what it was worth.
"This calls for celebration. Your body has undergone a severe trial, and has muscle memory, so you must reward your body so that in the future, it will continue to respond positively to adversity and allow you to reach higher heights of Rizzdom."
"It's time...
for hotpot!!!!!!!"
___
Whilst Old Man Li was many things, a barbarian who could not appreciate good food was not one of them, and soon they were seated in front of a hearty hotpot watching the ingredients simmer in the rich broth with relish.
For Bob, who had been raised on a diet of bread, lettuce and peanut butter, and who had only recently been introduced to the joys of canteen cuisine, and that only through exceptional willpower and entrepreneurship, this was a feast for the ages.
The stock itself was of premium quality, brewed from scratch, and the Wombok lettuce and other leafy greens tenderised first, filling the broth with a complex sweetness that permeated the heart of the soup with a refreshing and invigorating flavour.
Premium fillets of pure, pickled szechuan fish seemed to bob and frolick in the sea of savouriness, drinking in the rich spices with delight, alongside perfectly sliced wagyu beef of various kinds and cuts, which stewed briefly in the supernova of mind-melting flavour, dissolving its unique umami into the broth, alongside meaty enoki mushrooms, tofu soaked and tenderised, whilst carefully crafted dumplings dived like delighted dolphins up and down basking in the gloriousness of the mix...
Ramen provided the carbohydrate foundation, the grounding upon which the rest of the levels of flavour were built, skyscrapers of multilayered deliciousness, and Bob, upon his first bite, was filled with a starburst of unadulterated *taste* that he, in his 15 years of life, had yet to ever experience.
His eyes filled with emotion, and moisture trickled down his face, though it was unknown whether this was due to the deliciousness, or simply the large amount of chilli in the pot.
Old Man Li even gave him a little kip of wine, since it was a must for the occasion.
In short, it was an incredible experience.
Bob was filled with zest for life, and soon his injuries were healed and his Hit points replenished through the ingestion of flavourful quality ingredients.
"Is this what it means to be a Rizzmaster?"
He thought to himself.
"Yes. This is what I want to do with my life. I will become a genetic, success. I will have the means to eat hotpot whenever I want, and I choose to embark fully upon the path of being a Rizzmaster, a Rizzmaster with the Whole Package!..."
"Well, a big package at least..." Bob thought to himself.