"Who cares?"
"Matters of the heart can't always be explained."
Zane merely cast a glance over his shoulder at Rindo, unfazed by her teasing. His voice was casual, laced with calm indifference. "Anyway, you've finished your bear paw. Isn't it about time you went home?"
"Huh? Well… actually, I'm still kind of hungry…"
Rindo's voice grew quieter, her cheeks flushing with a hint of color.
Zane sighed. "Unbelievable."
He leaned against the bar, arms crossed. "Fine. What else do you want to eat?"
That was all the encouragement Rindo needed. Her eyes lit up as if she had just found a hidden treasure. She grinned and quickly rattled off a few small dishes—and a thick ginger soda to top it off. Her boldness returned just as fast as it had vanished.
Tonight, the tavern was supposed to be closed. But somehow, it hadn't worked out that way.
Leonora had stopped by earlier. Now Rindo lingered as if it were her second home.
Still, Zane wasn't upset. If anything, this unexpected attention was a sign that his humble tavern was gaining popularity—an oasis even the elite couldn't resist.
Fourth Day of the Residential Training Camp
Morning arrived quietly, cloaking the training grounds in a misty light. In one of the larger kitchens, dozens of students had assembled, tense with anticipation. They stood in neat rows, eyes fixed on the woman lounging at the front.
Hinako Inui sat perched on a stool, lazily chewing on seaweed strips.
As the former Second Seat of the 80th Generation Elite Ten, Hinako had made a name for herself as the "Empress of Mist." Her calm demeanor belied a ruthless precision in judging culinary skill.
Unlike Shinomiya and Akira, who had established their names early, Hinako had emerged later—but her rise was meteoric. In just two years, her restaurant Mist House earned a coveted two-star rating from the WGO. A quiet storm in the culinary world.
"Excuse me, Examiner… it's already past seven," a soft voice cut through the silence.
Megumi Tadokoro had raised her hand hesitantly. "Why haven't you announced the topic yet?"
Hinako blinked as if surprised they had spoken at all. "You don't know?"
She looked around dramatically, standing slowly.
"The test topic is… there is no topic." She smiled. "Because I didn't prepare any ingredients for you."
A stunned silence spread through the room.
"What!?"
"No ingredients?"
"This is crazy! That's like asking us to fight without weapons!"
"This has to be a joke—"
"It's not," Hinako said, her tone sharp enough to cut through the chaos. "The world is a brutal dining table. You're either the diner—or the dish."
She paused to let the silence thicken.
"I've marked off a one-kilometer radius around this kitchen. There's a flowing creek, thick trees, a grassy clearing. It's filled with ingredients… if you're clever enough to find them. You'll get basic supplies—oil, salt, soy sauce, cooking utensils. Even fishing rods. Everything else… you find yourself."
She gave a soft, mischievous chuckle. "You've got two hours. Impress me."
The Real Challenge Begins
The students scattered. Some hesitated, others bolted toward the door with fishing rods in hand.
"Can we team up?" Takumi Aldini asked. "There's barely enough time for one person to do both gathering and cooking."
Hinako shrugged. "Fine. But no more than two per team."
Without a word, Takumi nodded at his brother. "Let's go, Isami."
The brothers sprinted out together, passing other students who were frantically discussing plans.
Fishing seemed the most obvious choice—but it was also the slowest.
Hinako leaned back, observing the chaos. "Just as I thought," she murmured. "Most of them will try to fish."
The Aldini Brothers' Hunt
Unlike the others, Takumi and Isami weren't looking for fish. They knew something the others didn't: the true value of variety.
Soon, they returned carrying a struggling wild duck, its wings bound carefully. A bold choice.
"A duck?" Hinako's brows arched with interest.
Without delay, Takumi seized a half-moon blade and began butchering it on the chopping board. His movements were fierce and precise—cutting through bone and sinew like a seasoned hunter. He worked swiftly, trimming away fat and sinew, exposing the clean breast meat.
"Isami."
"Got it."
Isami stepped in, his calm demeanor vanishing. His hands moved with surgical speed—chopping fresh rosemary, garlic, and a touch of thyme. The herbs were pressed into the duck breast with olive oil and coarse salt, locking in flavor.
After sealing it all in a ziplock bag, Isami set it to marinate. Their coordination was flawless.
Hinako watched silently. The contrast in their styles—Takumi's brute force and Isami's delicate finesse—was almost theatrical.
Soon, the duck was roasting in the oven at 180°C. After 40 minutes, it emerged golden brown, glistening with honey glaze. The fragrance filled the room.
"An Italian-style roast duck?" Hinako mused.
"Italian cuisine values simplicity," Takumi explained. "Quality ingredients. Balanced flavors. Nothing excessive."
Hinako nodded. She took a bite—and her eyes widened.
The crispy duck skin crackled softly under her teeth, releasing a wave of savory oil. The flesh was tender, richly seasoned, but not overpowering. The rosemary, honey, and black pepper blended into a perfect harmony.
"Qualified," she finally said.
The brothers exchanged a small glance.
Chaos at the Creek
Meanwhile, back at the creek…
"I still haven't caught anything!"
"This float hasn't moved in half an hour!"
"Stop yelling, you'll scare the fish!"
The students who had rushed out to fish were now realizing a bitter truth—there simply weren't enough fish in the shallow stream to feed thirty people.
And even if they caught one—what then? No eggs, no breadcrumbs, no vegetables. Their options were severely limited.
"This test is rigged!" one student cried in frustration.
Hinako simply smiled. The panic, the pressure, the desperation—that's exactly what she wanted to see. The world of professional cooking didn't wait for perfection. You had to adapt or die.
Megumi's Harvest
Megumi hadn't gone to the creek.
Instead, she ventured into the wooded area and returned with a basket full of vegetables—onions, carrots, shiitake mushrooms, and wild herbs.
She moved quickly, chopping the vegetables with grace and ease.
On the stove, she combined soy sauce, sugar, and a bit of sake with onion and carrot, boiling it into a thick, sweet-savory teriyaki glaze.
Once reduced, she sautéed the mushrooms over high heat, cooking out the moisture before adding the sauce. The result was a glossy, umami-rich vegetarian dish.
Hinako tasted it silently.
No meat. No showmanship. Just a warm, honest flavor.
"This… is surprisingly comforting," she murmured.
She looked at Megumi and smiled.
"The relationship between a chef and their ingredients should be intimate. Your dish is humble—but it's cooked with care. I taste kindness."