As the Tavern closed for the night, the Totsuki Resort's dinner exam was nearing its conclusion.
Back in their dorm, Yuuki flopped onto her bed like a rag doll, utterly spent.
"I'm dead. There's no way I'm surviving the rest of this training camp," she mumbled.
"We actually did better than most," Ryoko replied, collapsing beside her. "At least we finished fifteen minutes early. Marui barely made it. He finished his last steak seconds before the deadline and fainted right in the kitchen."
"Seriously?" Yuuki blinked. "Poor guy. Hope he's okay."
With effort, she turned to Megumi. "Megumi, you really surprised me today."
"You finished before both of us by nearly thirty seconds."
"I… I guess I was lucky," Megumi said, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish smile.
"Luck, huh?" Yuuki raised an eyebrow. "Feels like you've gotten way better lately."
"Really? I didn't notice," Megumi replied, her cheeks turning pink.
"Whatever the case, we survived. That's what matters." Yuuki yawned and stretched. "Let's rest while we can."
"Goodnight," Megumi and Ryoko echoed as the room fell quiet.
The Next Morning – First Cooking Room
The air in the kitchen was thick with dread. The second day of the camp had barely started, but the fear was already palpable.
"Why is he our examiner today?"
"Isn't this guy the one who expelled almost half the students yesterday?"
"Fifty percent failure rate… that's insane!"
"Someone got kicked for having hair gel in his bangs!"
"I wanna go home…"
Their whispered panic was cut short by a cold, commanding voice.
"Silence. Anyone who talks will be expelled."
Kojiro Shinomiya stood before them—former Elite Ten, founder of a two-star French restaurant in Paris. His gaze alone silenced the room.
"Today's task is a French vegetable terrine," he said, gesturing to the whiteboard. "The recipe is provided. You'll work alone. No teamwork. No talking. You have two hours. Anyone who fails to meet the standard—or runs out of time—will be failed. Understood?"
The students scrambled into action.
Megumi's hands froze. Her eyes locked onto the ingredients in front of her—and her heart sank.
The lettuce was wilted.
Not slightly off. Not marginal. Completely unusable.
She had been excited when she heard the dish was vegetable terrine. Zane had taught her how to make it. She thought it would be her moment to shine.
But this?
Was it just bad luck?
No… it was deliberate.
Shinomiya, watching from a distance, noted her reaction with a flicker of interest.
Let's see how she handles that.
"What do I do?" Megumi muttered, panic rising.
The others were already slicing, grilling, plating—but she hadn't even started. The pressure was crushing.
Then a voice echoed in her memory:
"When vegetables wilt, it doesn't mean they're useless. Salt and vinegar water—they'll perk right back up."
Zane's voice.
Megumi slapped her cheeks—hard. Her classmates looked over in surprise.
Thank you, Zane…
With renewed focus, she mixed salt and vinegar into water and soaked the wilted lettuce. Slowly, the leaves began to restore their color and crispness.
Her heart steadied. Her hands moved confidently.
Two hours later, she was the last to present.
Megumi placed her dish before Shinomiya and bowed deeply. "This is my vegetable terrine. Please evaluate it."
He took a bite—expression unreadable.
But as the flavors hit his tongue, time seemed to stop.
"Tasty, right, Mom?"
"When I grow up, I'll become a great French chef and cook this for you every day!"
His mother's voice echoed in his mind. The taste… the texture… it was the same. A memory long buried beneath years of rigid discipline.
A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it.
He closed his eyes. Why now…?
When he finally opened them, his voice was quiet but clear.
"Saltwater's higher density promotes cell hydration. Vinegar halts oxidation and enhances sweetness. The combination… is effective."
Megumi nodded. "I didn't have fresh lettuce. I had no choice but to revive it."
"Who taught you that?"
"A… a Tavern owner."
Shinomiya's eyes narrowed.
"My recipes are precise. Reviving wilted lettuce might seem clever, but it breaks the rules. It undermines the exam."
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to disrespect—"
"But your dish has no major flaws," he interrupted, turning away. "You pass."
Megumi stood frozen. Then the words sank in.
"I… I passed?"
He nodded silently and scribbled Pass on her report.
"Thank you, examiner. I'll do better next time."
As she left, heart pounding, Megumi felt like she had just scaled a cliff—barely surviving a fall.
She didn't know why Shinomiya had changed his mind.
But somehow… she knew Zane had saved her again.