At Restaurant Yukihira,
There exists a philosophy Soma may never truly understand in his lifetime.
With the appearance of Zane, a butterfly effect has already begun shifting the course of the original story. For example:
Erina, who was originally supposed to assess Soma as a transfer student, should have clashed with him over their culinary ideals.
But due to Rindo stepping in as the examiner, that confrontation never took place.
Even so, the absence of direct contact wouldn't change how Erina viewed Soma.
From her perspective, his cooking would likely still be unpalatable, even detestable.
Why?
Because their culinary philosophies were fundamentally different—diametrically opposed, even.
To Erina, a "plain" dish like Mapo Tofu was beneath notice.
For years, the food at Restaurant Yukihira, managed by Joichiro and Soma, lacked the spectacle to truly impress.
That the restaurant had never made a name in the culinary world was proof enough:
Joichiro, once a genius beyond even Gin Dojima in his prime, no longer prioritized overwhelming technique.
Ten Erinas couldn't equal one Joichiro in his heyday.
So why had his cuisine become "mediocre," appearing to cater only to common tastes?
It wasn't from hiding his skills. Nor was it out of laziness.
He had simply come to understand:
True culinary excellence wasn't about shock and awe—it was about being accessible to everyone.
In contrast, Erina viewed cooking as an extension of self-expression.
With her God Tongue, she aimed to conquer her audience through perfection, to capture them.
That pursuit was her life's mission.
But for Joichiro and Soma, cooking was a dialogue—not just expression, but connection.
Their belief: a good dish must be made well and accepted by as many people as possible.
In essence:
Shokugeki no Soma was always a story of clashing ideologies—
One centered on the self, and one that evolved through others.
This was why Soma, upon tasting Zane's dishes, saw shadows of his father in them.
And why, for the first time in a long while, he felt real pressure.
Because Zane's cooking… followed the same principles.
"Soma."
"Human perspective is always narrow."
"I don't know who your father is, nor do I care why he sent you to Totsuki."
"But here's what I do want to tell you:
When you look up to your father, don't forget—
There are chefs out there standing at the pinnacle, gazing down on the world from heights you've never seen."
"Maybe Totsuki seems unimpressive to you right now—just another school, not like your little Restaurant Yukihira."
"But someday, you'll come to realize:
Some people, some places, become more interesting only after you've grown enough to face them."
Satoshi's words left Soma stunned.
He had never dreamed of greatness.
He just wanted to cook beside his dad, inherit the family restaurant, and live a quiet life—get married, have kids.
That was his idea of happiness.
So right now, he couldn't understand Satoshi's "lecture."
Let alone agree with it.
"I've spiked the dish!"
This was one of Soma's specialties.
But his resolve—to keep challenging Joichiro even after losing 498 times—showed what truly defined him:
Relentless perseverance.
In that sense, he resembled Alice Nakiri—
Both were fixated on someone, on some goal, and wouldn't give up until they surpassed it.
"Senpai, what level are you at right now?"
Soma's voice was expressionless as he looked Satoshi in the eye.
"Me? I'm the seventh seat of the Elite Ten, as I told you."
He frowned, assuming Soma was picking another fight.
"With your current skills, you have no chance of shaking the Elite Ten. I advise you to drop the idea, for now."
He casually sipped a cup of tea liquor.
"No, no, Senpai, that's not what I meant."
"I was asking—on a national level. Where do you rank in all of Japan?"
PFFT!
Satoshi spat out his tea.
He stared at Soma in disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"I can barely hold my ground at Totsuki, and you're asking me about Japan?"
"Well… among my peers, I'm probably top-tier. But all things considered? I'm maybe third-tier right now. Or not even that."
"What? Only third-tier?"
Soma was genuinely surprised.
"Then… what about the owner of this tavern?"
"No idea. We haven't even grasped his full capability yet."
"But one thing's for sure—his dishes are the most delicious and persuasive we've ever had."
He didn't rank Zane's ability.
Instead, he used two modifiers:
"The most."
"…I really want to know who'd win—Zane or my dad."
Understanding without breadth often leads to shallow conclusions.
Though Soma had grown up under Joichiro and far surpassed most peers, his worldview remained narrow—confined to Yukihira.
This was why, in the early chapters, he stumbled repeatedly.
Still, as a "protagonist," he had his halo.
Joichiro once said Soma's talent was "average."
Indeed, he lacked Erina's God Tongue or Kurokiba's superhuman sense of smell.
But Soma had one major advantage:
He could adapt.
No matter how dire the crisis, he found a way to survive.
If he focused more on experience than theory, he might just become a culinary "scholar god"—a new class of genius entirely.
The night air was fresh, dampened with gentle moisture.
Breathing deeply, one could taste the quiet, peaceful essence of the evening.
While Polar Star Dorm's residents, Rindo, and the rest enjoyed a hearty meal at the tavern…
Elsewhere, at the WGO Japan Branch—
In a pristine bedroom, atop a bed that smelled faintly of perfume, lay a stunning woman.
Her thin silk nightgown and noble bearing made her identity unmistakable.
But her flushed cheeks, now red enough to drip blood, told a different story.
"Ah… haa… mm…"
Her breathing grew rapid.
She quickly undid two buttons of her nightgown, revealing porcelain skin.
Her dazed eyes sparkled with longing, and she bit her lip, enduring some unseen agony.
"Anne… is it ready?"
"I can't hold out any longer…"
Her voice was weak—likely from days without food, her body succumbing to malnutrition.
"Coming, Lady Mana. I'll administer the injection now."
As her vision blurred, Mana heard quick footsteps approaching.
Secretary Anne arrived with a medical kit, drawing out a vial of imported nutrients and skillfully injecting it into her mistress's arm.
With each drop coursing through her veins, the once-frail woman bloomed back to life—rising from bed, body filled with vigor.
"Ohhh… this feels incredible."
"Only when I'm at my lowest does this nutrient solution hit just right…"
Mana inhaled deeply, savoring the surge of strength returning to her limbs.
But when the effects faded slightly, she opened her eyes with a soft sigh.
"I thought I could last longer… but just a few days without Zane's tavern, and I'm already falling apart."
"Even the God Tongue is restless, craving… craving Zane's Comet Fried Rice… and that Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg…"
The memory of devouring three full plates at her last visit made her body tremble with need.
"Lady Mana, shall I prepare the car?"
"Now. We're going—right now!"
"As you wish, my lady."
Anne bowed and stepped out.
"Steep the tea leaves in hot water, then filter the extract."
"Mix it with strong liquor, white sugar, citric acid, honey, and you've got tea liquor."
Inside the tavern, Zane shared another recipe with Rindo.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Compared to fermentation?"
"Infusion gives a cloudier result—less shine, less fragrance. Temperature and time must be precise. Too long and you get sour, murky tea. Too short, and there's no depth."
Zane's eyes met Rindo's mid-explanation.
Startled, she quickly turned away.
The air grew awkward—until a chill swept the tavern.
Everyone—Satoshi, Soma, even timid Megumi—felt it.
Something's here.
"Who… is that?"
Satoshi's voice trembled as sweat rolled down his cheek.
The door opened.
Supported by Anne, Mana entered.
Her mature beauty and commanding aura made the tavern seem smaller by comparison.
"Zane!" she cried, hurrying over. "Please—Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg! I need it!"
Zane smiled gently.
"Alright. I was just about to test this knife's power anyway."
He turned to the kitchen.
As he drew the blade—the Heavenly North Star Wolf Blade—
Mana's eyes suddenly widened, as if sensing something powerful stir within it.
"Wait…"
"This knife…!"