My Life Changed with the Unlimited System

Anton stormed into the dimly lit chamber where the Seventh Elder of the Petrova Family sat, his face a mask of barely restrained fury. For days, he had been confined—punished for the embarrassment he brought upon the family by losing to an unknown challenger in a duel he had personally initiated.

Now, finally free, he sought answers. The room was cold and shadowed, the walls thick with the weight of old secrets. The Seventh Elder, known simply as "Elder Voran," sat calmly in his high-backed chair, his gaze steady and unflinching as he watched Anton's approach.

Anton's voice was a thunderclap in the stillness, breaking the oppressive silence. "Why did you interfere, Voran?!" he roared, his hands shaking with rage. "I had him—I was about to crush that upstart, Ethan! You cost me my victory, and now my name is in shambles because of you!"

Elder Voran said nothing, his expression as inscrutable as a stone mask. He merely watched as Anton raged, his fury building like a storm. The young man's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. He had been seething since the confrontation, blaming the Elder's sudden interference for his defeat.

"I was grounded because of you!" Anton's voice shook with anger and humiliation. "The Family—the entire Petrova name—was tarnished because I lost to someone no one had ever heard of! I challenged him! I could have beaten him if you hadn't intervened!"

Still, Elder Voran remained silent, allowing Anton's fury to run its course. His cold, penetrating gaze seemed to strip Anton down to his very core, but he said nothing, only waiting.

Anton's eyes blazed as he stepped closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. "Why did you do it? Why did you stop me? I could have proven myself—I could have shown everyone I am worthy of leading this family!"

For a moment, the tension in the room was suffocating. Then, without warning, Elder Voran's eyes narrowed. The air around them seemed to shudder, and an unimaginable pressure filled the room. It was as if the very space itself bent to Voran's will. Anton's words died in his throat as he gasped for breath, his knees buckling under the crushing weight of the Elder's unleashed aura.

He fell to the floor, his body trembling uncontrollably as he struggled to draw air.

Elder Voran's voice was a low, icy whisper, each word slicing through the oppressive silence. "You are nothing more than a foolish child who has brought shame to our name. Do you think your petty anger concerns me? You are not the first to stain the Petrova name with arrogance, and you will not be the last."

Anton's face turned white as he choked under the pressure, his limbs splayed on the cold floor. His entire being was frozen, helpless before the Elder's unbridled power. Only when Voran's cold, calculating gaze softened slightly did the suffocating aura begin to fade. Anton coughed violently as he gasped for air, the weight on his chest lifting.

Slowly, Elder Voran withdrew his aura, his expression returning to its impenetrable calm. "If you ever dare to speak to me with such insolence again," he said, his voice as sharp and unforgiving as a blade, "I will end your miserable existence without hesitation."

Anton's eyes burned with rage and humiliation, but he managed to find his voice quaking as he forced himself to his feet. "I'll... I'll tell my parents," he spat, his words trembling with barely suppressed fury. "They'll hear about this—about how you treated me, how you humiliated me!"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Elder Voran's lips curled into a cold, cynical smile. "Oh? Run to your parents then. Do you think their influence frightens me?" he sneered. "Your parents may hold power in the Petrova Family, but they are mere players in a game far beyond their comprehension. I fear no one in this Family—save the Head himself.

So go, Anton. Cry to your parents if you wish, but know this—my actions were not without purpose."

Anton's eyes narrowed, confusion flickering behind his anger. "Purpose? What purpose? Why did you stop me from crushing that fool, Ethan?"

Elder Voran's gaze turned thoughtful, almost distant for the first time, as if he saw something far beyond their dark chamber. "You think that boy is a simple nobody, do you?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a weight that sent a shiver down Anton's spine.

"What do you mean?" Anton asked the rage in his voice muted by the sudden chill in his gut.

Elder Voran's eyes sharpened, his expression suddenly intense. "There is something ancient, far more powerful than you can comprehend, lingering inside Ethan's body. I felt it when you faced him—a presence that should not exist in this era. You might not have survived if I had allowed you to continue."

Anton's breath caught, his anger suddenly eclipsed by confusion and fear. "What... what are you saying?" he stammered, his bravado crumbling.

Elder Voran leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I do not know what lies dormant within that boy, but it is not to be trifled with. Whatever it is, it woke you briefly when you faced him, and I will not risk the Family's future on your reckless pride. That is why I intervened."

Anton stood there, stunned into silence, his mind whirling with questions he didn't dare to ask. The Seventh Elder's eyes seemed to bore into his soul. For the first time, Anton felt a sliver of doubt—doubt in his strength, understanding of the world, and doubt that he knew what he was up against.

Elder Voran settled back in his chair, his expression cold and detached. "You have much to learn, Anton," he said dismissively. "Now leave before I lose my patience. And remember—if you continue down this path, you will face consequences far greater than your own humiliation."

With a final, icy glare, Anton turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, his mind reeling from everything he had just heard. Behind him, Elder Voran remained seated, his thoughts lingering on the mysterious presence he had sensed within Ethan—the same presence that had compelled him to intervene.

"I will be watching you closely, boy," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the darkness. "Whatever you are, you may hold the key to the future of the Petrova Family... or its ruin."

The chamber fell silent again, the air heavy with secrets only Elder Voran understood.

***

As the car cruised down the busy streets of Novan City, Ethan sat in the backseat, a satisfied smile on his lips. Beside him, Jessica let out an exaggerated groan, leaning her head back against the leather seat.

"I can't eat another bite," she said with a chuckle. "Five restaurants in one day? I think I've reached my limit—especially after the La Vista Grill incident. I still can't believe what you did back there, Ethan."

The chauffeur, Mark, glanced at them through the rearview mirror, his eyes shining with excitement. "I have to agree with Miss Jessica," he said, his voice enthusiastic. "That dish you made, Mr. Cole—I've never tasted anything like it. If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was one of those legendary dishes straight from the heavens themselves."

Ethan chuckled, hiding his amusement behind a casual smile. In truth, Mark wasn't far off. Thanks to his newly unlocked Culinary Divinity, the dish had been more than just delicious—it was, quite literally, a divine creation.

'You're not wrong, Mark,' Ethan thought, his amusement deepening. 'It really was a dish from the heavens.'

Jessica nudged him playfully. "I swear, if you keep showing off like that, you'll put every chef in the city out of business. What you did at La Vista Grill was something else."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with amusement and pride as he recalled what had happened at the fourth restaurant they had visited that day—La Vista Grill, a small but well-known establishment with a reputation for its stubborn owner, Chef Roberto. The reason for their downfall was him, too.

Roberto had been openly skeptical of Ethan's feedback; his bushy eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "You think you know my food better than I do?" he had scoffed.

"It's easy to criticize from the outside, but real cooking requires skill—years of practice! Why don't you cook it yourself if you think you can do better?"

Ethan saw the challenge in Roberto's eyes, and instead of backing down, he smiled. It was the perfect opportunity to see how far Culinary Divinity could take him.

"Alright," Ethan had said calmly, rolling up his sleeves. "Challenge accepted."

The kitchen had fallen silent as Ethan stepped in, taking command with a quiet confidence that left the staff wide-eyed and amazed. For the next hour, he had worked with precision and intuition that stunned everyone in the room—including Roberto, who watched with disbelief and grudging admiration.

Ethan's movements were fluid, each step purposeful, as if he'd been cooking in that kitchen his entire life. With his newfound skill, he instinctively understood every ingredient, seasoning, and technique.

He didn't just recreate Roberto's signature dish—he elevated it, adding layers of flavor and depth that had previously been missing.

When the dish was finally presented, a hush fell over the room. Jessica, Mark, and the kitchen staff tasted the food, their faces lighting up with awe and wonder.

Even Roberto, the grizzled chef who had challenged Ethan, was left speechless as he tasted the dish, his eyes widening with shock.

"I... I don't believe it," Roberto had finally admitted, his voice almost reverent. "This is... perfect. You brought my recipe to life in a way I never imagined. How did you do it?"

Ethan smiled and shrugged, offering no real explanation. He couldn't very well tell them the truth—that the Culinary Divinity skill allowed him to create dishes that transcended human limitations.

"Just a bit of instinct and lowest ego," he had said modestly, leaving Roberto to grapple with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

In the car, Jessica's eyes were still wide, admiring Ethan. "I mean, you made Roberto, of all people, admit that someone cooked his food better than him! Do you realize how stubborn that man is? He never admits he's wrong."

Mark chuckled, clearly delighted by the memory. "I think you left quite an impression, Mr. Cole. Even the other chefs were praising you after you left. They said it was like watching a master at work."

Ethan shrugged, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "I just wanted to show them that my feedback wasn't baseless. Sometimes, telling someone what to do is not enough—you must show them."

Jessica smirked. "Well, I think you more than showed them. You practically left them speechless."

Ethan glanced out the window as they neared the next restaurant, a small place called Sea Salt Haven. Famous for its traditional seafood recipes, it had recently struggled to attract customers. He knew that every restaurant they visited was another chance to make a difference, to bring out the best in chefs who had lost their way.

He glanced back at Jessica and Mark, feeling a surge of confidence. If he could transform La Vista Grill and impress a chef as stubborn as Roberto, he was certain he could do the same with Sea Salt Haven and the remaining restaurants on his list.

It was only the beginning, but Ethan knew he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. Each success brought him closer to his goal, each dish a step closer to revitalizing the culinary world of Novan City.

Ethan's determination grew as they pulled up in front of Sea Salt Haven. This wasn't just about BiteWave or the mission anymore—it was about bringing these struggling restaurants back to life, one divine dish at a time.

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