Ohm meticulously layered the minced chives and cracked black pepper onto the translucent fish. He then lowered it onto a searing hot stone centered within a hotpot, where a broth of crimson bird's eye chilies and maple-hibiscus leaves bubbled violently over an open flame. Ohm took a square iron press and slammed it down onto the fish.
Ssssssss! A plume of pale steam erupted, carrying an aroma so intoxicating it felt like a physical weight.
Feng watched every movement as if under a spell. The massive hotpot was presented before him with theatrical grandeur. The fish, charred on the stone, sent up a fragrance reminiscent of a rocky island standing defiant in the middle of a scarlet sea—a broth as red as the lifeblood leaking from a financial wound.
"Please, taste the flavor of your own risk," Ohm said, gesturing toward his masterpiece.
Feng didn't hesitate. He used his chopsticks to place the seared fish on a spoon, drenched it in the thick, ruby broth, and shoved it into his mouth.
Sssssssss! The heat scorched his palate. The texture hit his tongue—spicy, searing, yet hauntingly mellow. His face contorted in a mask of agony.
"Hot... it's so hot... but the tartness and the spice from the red broth... and the juiciness of the fragrant grilled fish..." he groaned, tears welling in his eyes.
Ohm's lip curled into a smirk as he stared at the red broth. "That heat is your impatience—the greed that drove you to invest without study, the three months of failure you've accumulated," Ohm said, locking eyes with his client. "But that tartness beneath the burn? That is the flavor of the final chance you must seize before you are left with nothing."
Ohm leaned across the counter, so close that Feng could smell the sharp, dry spices on his skin. "If you want liquidity to stop that Margin Call within 48 hours, you must be brave enough to crash into the point where others dare not tread."
The prophetic chef went silent for a heartbeat before whispering information that could shatter the global commodities market. "The world doesn't know this yet... but in less than two days, Indonesia will abruptly announce a ban on processed lithium exports."
Feng's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
"Tomorrow morning... the second the LME opens, you must take every cent you have left and pour it into lithium futures with maximum leverage," Ohm emphasized, every word striking like a hammer. "If this news breaks officially, the price will skyrocket over 20% in a matter of hours. That is your exit from bankruptcy."
"But... what if it's not true?" Feng asked, his voice trembling so violently his chopsticks rattled against the bowl.
Ohm let out a cold, merciless chuckle. "Heh... if it's not true, you're finished! Every asset you own will be auctioned off until you don't even have a pair of underwear left. But this is the flavor of the risk you must trade. Are you brave enough?"
Feng took a deep, shuddering breath. The heat lingering in his throat ignited a primal instinct. If he didn't risk it, he was dead anyway. If the prophecy was true, it was a miracle that would rewrite his destiny. If not... he would simply vanish from this world, and no one would have to suffer for him again.
Feng nodded firmly. The light returned to his eyes, burning with the fire of the greatest gamble of his life.