A whole egg is made up of three parts: the shell, the white, and the yolk. A typical egg weighs around 50 grams—15 grams of that is yolk, and 35 grams is egg white. Exact weight varies by size, of course.
No matter the cuisine—be it Chinese, Japanese, French, or American—eggs are everywhere. They're a universal staple, adaptable and beloved.
That's why the students chose eggs as the theme ingredient. The possibilities seemed endless. And yet, creating a breakfast dish that could stand out and draw customers was a different story entirely.
With only 2,000 customers and hundreds of competitors, every bite mattered.
So, on this sleepless night, the kitchens of Totsuki Palace were ablaze with silent determination.
"Peaceful night, isn't it?"
In the quiet examiner's lounge, Gin Dojima looked out the window and murmured.
"They're all in the kitchens, working like mad," Kankei added beside him.
"Probably pacing in circles or burning through ingredients with worry."
Inui Hinako stretched lazily, unfazed.
Dojima smiled. "And that's what makes this test so different from the others."
Back in the kitchen…
"Ugh, such a pain," Ryoko muttered at her station. "It needs to be quick to make, easy to sell, delicious… ugh, too many requirements."
"We don't even have time to sleep!" Yuuki rolled up her sleeves and fetched a tray of eggs.
Megumi sighed. "But if we don't sleep, we'll collapse tomorrow…"
Yuuki placed an egg into Megumi's hand. "Then we finish fast, then rest."
"…Alright." Megumi stared at the egg like it held all the answers.
Cooking isn't just nourishment.
It's joy, art, and soul.
As Jamie Oliver once said, "Good food isn't about filling the stomach, but enjoying life."
First, crack three eggs into a bowl. Add two tablespoons of milk, a pinch of salt. Beat, then strain for smoothness.
Heat 10 grams of butter in a non-stick pan. Once it melts, pour in the egg mixture. As the base begins to set, stir gently from the outside inward, creating delicate folds.
When the mixture is half-set, fold gently into an oval, cook briefly, then serve.
Place over a muffin with hollandaise, ham, and spinach purée.
A soft, custardy omelet—cloud-like perfection.
Erina Nakiri plated the dish. Under the kitchen lights, the omelet gleamed—its surface so delicate it seemed to shimmer with tension.
She took a bite.
Her eyes widened. The warm, molten texture danced in her mouth, moist and buttery but still structured—like floating in a sun-drenched featherbed.
The internal temperature was perfect: 60°C. The texture, flawless.
As expected of the God's Tongue.
"Hisako, I'm heading back."
Hisako looked up from her simmering stock. "You're done already?"
Erina simply nodded. "You're still working?"
"Only halfway there…" Hisako sighed.
"Keep at it. Once I'm back, let's play cards."
With grace, Erina brushed her hair aside and exited, admired by everyone she passed.
"Even under pressure… she's unshakable," Hisako whispered with pride, returning to her work.
"Done!" Alice cheered nearby, admiring her dish. "An egg dish that elevates the taste of eggs—genius, right?"
But her smile dimmed.
"…Wait, where's Erina?"
She pouted. "Ugh! She finished before me again?!"
"Do your best tomorrow," she ordered Ryo.
"Yes, Miss…" Ryo responded wearily, his eyes shadowed with fatigue.
Meanwhile, at The Tavern, only Zane and Sonoka manned the counter.
It was a small place, but cozy—the kind that made you feel at home the moment you stepped in.
Another figure entered.
"Mana?"
The WGO executive blinked in surprise at the familiar voice. Her poised expression cracked.
"…Father?"
The Director sat beside her. "Had some time to relax. Came for a drink."
"Zane, a bottle of sake," he called. "Something light."
The clear sake carried soft hints of pear, apple, and grape. Gentle on the tongue, but full of warmth. It set the tone for the unexpected reunion.
"…Why haven't you gone to see Erina?" he asked quietly.
"I will," Mana replied. "But not yet. I… don't know how to face her. Or maybe I've been avoiding it."
The Director exhaled deeply.
She reminded him so much of Erina. Both cursed by the God's Tongue, burdened by expectations, and isolated by brilliance.
To save Erina, he'd designed a long-reaching plan: The Jade Generation Plan.
A plan to gather prodigies—unpolished jade—to push Erina past her limits, helping her forge a dish powerful enough to overcome her curse.
Megumi, chosen at twelve. Hayama, the Aldini twins, Ryo, Alice…
And the son of Saiba Jōichirō: Yukihira Soma.
Each one, a rival. A mirror. A stepping stone.
All to sharpen Erina.
But after tasting Zane's cooking—the only food Mana had ever truly enjoyed—the plan no longer mattered.
"You're still needed," the Director said after another sip. "Azami's gone. Soe doesn't care about the family. Erina's not ready."
"You're the only one who can protect the Nakiri legacy."
Mana closed her eyes.
"I'm your daughter. I carry Nakiri blood—but I'm also a WGO officer. My duty lies there."
"…I've never been interested in power plays, Father."
Silence fell. Then, he chuckled sadly.
"You've always been stubborn."
She gave a tired smile. "You're still strong. You can carry the burden a few more years."
"…And if I can't," he said with a sly glance at Zane, "maybe a grandson-in-law can."
Mana blinked, stunned—then caught the implication.
Her father smiled faintly, eyes twinkling with mischief and hope.