Chapter 382

Hisako Arato carefully carried two bowls of soup back to Erina Nakiri and handed one to her.

“Lady Erina, please try this.”

Erina accepted the bowl and breathed in the extraordinarily complex fragrance rising from its surface. Despite herself, she swallowed in anticipation before dipping her spoon into the crystal-clear liquid.

She gently blew on the spoonful and slowly brought it to her lips.

The instant the soup touched her tongue, Erina felt as though a tremendous bolt of lightning had exploded inside her mind.

The world around her seemed to transform.

She saw spring beneath a sky filled with drifting cherry blossoms, followed by the lush greenery of summer, where cicadas sang endlessly in the trees. Then came autumn, with mountains blanketed in brilliant red maple leaves, before the scenery finally shifted into a peaceful winter landscape covered in pure white snow.

The four seasons passed before her eyes in a continuous, breathtaking cycle.

Meanwhile, the flavors of dozens of ingredients unfolded across her tongue, each one so distinct that she could recognize it individually, yet all of them blended together in perfect harmony.

It was like listening to a magnificent symphony in which every instrument played its own melody while contributing to a single, extraordinary composition.

Erina froze with her spoon suspended halfway to her mouth, unable to recover from the overwhelming experience.

Her God Tongue had examined countless dishes throughout her life, and even the smallest imperfection rarely escaped its scrutiny.

Yet no matter how carefully she evaluated Haruto’s Four Seasons Soup, she couldn’t find a single flaw.

Of course, if she absolutely had to identify a weakness, perhaps it would be the soup’s almost excessive capacity to accommodate different flavors.

Its composition was so harmonious and its structure so remarkably balanced that Erina felt even another ten or twenty ingredients could be incorporated without disrupting the finished dish.

That realization was astonishing enough on its own.

But what affected Erina even more profoundly was that Haruto’s creation had opened an entirely new door in her understanding of cooking.

‘So ingredients can be combined like this…’

‘And flavors can be developed and brought together in such a way?’

Until now, she had always understood that ingredients needed to complement one another. A chef had to select appropriate combinations, emphasize their strengths, and avoid creating conflicts between incompatible flavors.

Haruto, however, had taken that concept to an entirely different level.

Rather than building a dish around a few dominant ingredients, he had brought dozens of individual flavors together and allowed every single one to retain its character.

The result was something Erina had never imagined possible.

Countless new ideas surged through her mind as she considered the implications. Different ingredients, cooking methods, and combinations she had never previously thought to explore suddenly presented themselves as possibilities.

Her understanding of cuisine seemed to advance another step.

Not far away, Haruto glanced thoughtfully toward Erina.

For some reason, he felt that something about her presence had changed slightly.

After observing her for a moment, however, he decided there was no need to investigate further.

He had already finished his examination, and whatever realization Erina had reached was ultimately her own business.

Following Haruto’s presentation, more students brought their dishes forward for judging.

Some successfully satisfied the examiners and passed, while others failed to meet the required standards and were eliminated.

The examinations continued until the full twenty-four hours had elapsed.

At last, the Promotion Exams officially came to an end.

However, rather than becoming less crowded after the examinations concluded, Rebun Island began receiving an increasing number of visitors.

Influential figures from the culinary world, head chefs from prestigious restaurants, editors-in-chief of renowned gourmet magazines, and other prominent industry professionals arrived from across Japan.

People who would ordinarily be difficult to meet even once were now gathering on this remote northern island.

And they had all come for the same reason.

The next event to take place here would be a Régiment de Cuisine, a team-based Shokugeki that would determine the future of Totsuki Culinary Academy and potentially influence the direction of Japan’s entire culinary industry.

The outcome would decide who held the position of Totsuki’s director and whose philosophy would shape the academy’s future.

With stakes of that magnitude, no one involved in the culinary world wanted to miss the confrontation.

…

Early the following morning, as the first rays of sunlight spread across Rebun Island, the venue for the Régiment de Cuisine was already packed with spectators.

Every seat in the stands had been occupied.

Culinary professionals from all over the country spoke quietly among themselves, their conversations carrying an unmistakable sense of anticipation and tension.

Erina Nakiri, Soma Yukihira, Megumi Tadokoro, Satoshi Isshiki, Terunori Kuga, and Tosuke Megishima had arrived early.

Each wore a serious expression, although the degree of tension varied from person to person.

After all, this Régiment de Cuisine wasn’t merely about determining who would become Totsuki’s director.

It was also a battle in which all of them were staking their futures.

At the center of the judges’ platform sat Senzaemon Nakiri, dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono.

His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be deep in thought. No one could tell what was going through the former director’s mind.

Just then, a commotion broke out near the entrance.

Azami Nakiri entered the venue wearing an impeccably tailored suit, a smile on his face that seemed gentle at first glance but carried an unmistakable coldness beneath it.

Ten contestants followed behind him in an orderly formation.

Every member of the group possessed an imposing presence, and their arrival immediately drew attention from the entire arena.

Leading the procession was Eishi Tsukasa, the First Seat of Totsuki’s Elite Ten Council.

His gaze swept across Erina and the others, and his expression became noticeably more serious.

Following close behind was Rindo Kobayashi, the Second Seat.

The red-haired girl, who almost always wore a cheerful grin, had uncharacteristically put aside her usual playfulness and was taking the occasion seriously.

Behind them came Momo Akanegakubo, the Fourth Seat; Somei Saito, the Fifth Seat; and Nene Kinokuni, the Sixth Seat.

Also among the contestants was Etsuya Eizan, the former Ninth Seat.

Unlike the others, however, Eizan wore a particularly gloomy expression.

His gaze kept moving through the crowd, searching for someone.

Meanwhile, up in the spectator stands, Haruto was leaning casually against the railing with both hands tucked into his pockets, leisurely examining the lineup below.

Suddenly, he sensed a furious gaze directed toward him.

He looked down and found himself staring directly into Eizan’s eyes, which were practically burning with hatred.

Apparently, losing his Elite Ten seat to Haruto in their previous Shokugeki remained a humiliation Eizan couldn’t forget.

Haruto regarded him with a faint, amused smile, his expression otherwise completely undisturbed.

Unfortunately, that casual smile only made Eizan angrier.

His face darkened, and he clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails nearly dug into his palms.

His devastating defeat in their previous Shokugeki had cost him an enormous amount.

Every time he remembered what had happened, he felt an almost uncontrollable urge to tear Haruto apart.

Unable to endure that indifferent expression any longer, Eizan glared up at him from across the crowd.

“Haruto! Stop hiding in the stands and come down here! Settle things with me in a Shokugeki!”

Haruto merely spread his hands.

“Sorry, but I’m not particularly interested in fighting someone I’ve already beaten. I prefer to keep moving forward rather than revisit old victories.”

“YOU—!”

Haruto’s words struck directly at Eizan’s most painful memory.

Veins bulged across his forehead, and his features twisted with rage until his face looked almost grotesque.

Haruto, however, had no intention of wasting any more time watching Eizan’s furious expressions.

He simply shifted his attention past him toward the four unfamiliar figures walking at the rear of Azami’s group.

The first was Rentaro Kusunoki, a young man whose wildly styled hair and rebellious appearance made him look more like a delinquent than a culinary student.

Everything about his posture radiated arrogance, as though he couldn’t care less what anyone thought of him.

Behind Kusunoki walked Julio Shiratsu and Mea Yanai.

Julio had striking, long blond hair and an unmistakably confident expression.

Mea, meanwhile, had pink hair and a faint smile that gave her a deceptively sweet and harmless appearance.

The last of the four was Shoko Kaburagi.

She wore a large hat with its brim pulled low, concealing most of her face beneath its shadow.

“I didn’t expect those four to show up.”

Satoshi Isshiki looked toward Kaburagi and her companions with some surprise.

Shoko Kaburagi, Julio Shiratsu, Rentaro Kusunoki, and Mea Yanai were all second-year students at Totsuki Academy, and each possessed considerable culinary ability.

As one of the strongest students in their year, Isshiki was naturally familiar with all four.

“Tch. They’re just a bunch of people who’ve already lost.”

Terunori Kuga curled his lip disdainfully.

However, when his gaze shifted toward Eishi Tsukasa, the dismissive expression disappeared.

Kuga’s eyes narrowed, and his expression became unusually serious.

There was unmistakable wariness in his gaze, along with a hint of apprehension toward the overwhelming culinary ability of the First Seat.

Yet beneath that caution burned a powerful excitement.

After all, getting another opportunity to challenge Tsukasa in a Shokugeki was something Kuga had been looking forward to for a very long time.

“I don’t care who we’re facing. I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

Tosuke Megishima spoke calmly, his expression resolute.

He had always felt that becoming the Third Seat of the Elite Ten Council had been something of an accident.

Nevertheless, now that he’d agreed to participate in the Régiment de Cuisine, he had every intention of fighting with everything he had.

Meanwhile, Rentaro Kusunoki swept his gaze across Soma and the other members of the opposing team.

A look of disdain appeared on his face.

“Hey, you first-year brats! Don’t expect me to go easy on you!”

Then he seemed to remember something and glanced toward the spectator stands.

“By the way, is that Haruto guy seriously not participating?”

“Sure, Eizan spends most of his time fooling around instead of properly cooking, but anyone who can beat him and take his Elite Ten seat must have at least some skill.”

“He looks a hell of a lot stronger than you lot, anyway.”

Before Soma or any of the others could respond, Eizan abruptly turned toward Kusunoki with a dangerous expression.

“What did you just say?!”

‘What the hell does he mean, fooling around?!’

As far as Eizan was concerned, making money was the most important thing in the world. There was absolutely nothing wrong with concentrating on profitable business ventures.

Kusunoki looked back at him with undisguised contempt.

“Oh? Is that Eizan, the guy who lost to a first-year student, talking to me?”

In Kusunoki’s opinion, the fact that Eizan had been defeated by a freshman was a disgrace to the entire Elite Ten Council.

Besides, he had never thought particularly highly of Eizan in the first place.

The man was good at making money. So what?

If Eizan hadn’t made substantial financial contributions to Totsuki, Kusunoki doubted he would ever have been qualified to hold an Elite Ten seat.

“REN… TA… RO… KUSUNOKI!”

Eizan was trembling with rage.

Yes, he had lost to Haruto, but that didn’t mean someone like Kusunoki had the right to look down on him!

Kusunoki raised his chin arrogantly.

“What? Didn’t hear me? Want me to say it again?”

He grinned mockingly.

“Eizan, the guy who got beaten by a first-year.”

The two glared at each other, neither willing to back down.

The atmosphere between them grew increasingly hostile, and it seemed as though a fight might break out at any moment.

Just then, Rindo Kobayashi turned toward Kusunoki with an expression of mild dissatisfaction.

“Come on, Rentaro! You shouldn’t be so mean to Eizan!”

She shook her head as though genuinely concerned.

“I mean, the poor guy already got beaten so easily by little Haruto, and Haruto’s only a first-year! Isn’t that sad enough? You should show him a little sympathy!”

Then she added casually, “Although, to be fair, Haruto really is an excellent chef. It’s not that surprising Eizan lost to him.”

Rindo apparently thought she was helping.

Unfortunately, every word only made Eizan’s expression darker.

Nene Kinokuni, who had been watching nearby, covered her mouth and turned away, quietly laughing at the sight of Eizan’s increasingly ridiculous face.

The atmosphere among Azami’s contestants was becoming rather chaotic before the competition had even begun.

Finally, Azami spoke.

“Enough. This is hardly the time for fighting among yourselves.”

His voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it immediately brought the argument to a halt.

Whether it was the furious Eizan or the arrogantly defiant Kusunoki, both fell silent at once.