"Ah... O-Okay."
Megumi Tadokoro nervously sat down in the seat next to him, leaving an empty space between them.
At that moment, she was holding the bottle of water he had handed her, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the cap, trying to soothe the tension in her heart.
"Um... My name is Megumi Tadokoro, from a small fishing port town in the Tohoku region. I don't know your name yet..."
She stole a glance at the handsome, gentle-looking boy beside her before quickly lowering her head, introducing herself in a rapid-fire manner.
"Okabe. I'm Chinese, but I grew up in Tokyo. Just like you, I'm here for the entrance exam."
Okabe gave a simple introduction of himself.
Because the incident of the duel against the Dark Culinary World at the Nakiri family's estate was kept under wraps by the Nakiris, his name was unknown to all but a few influential figures.
"Okabe-kun..."
Megumi Tadokoro repeated the name softly, as if committing it to memory.
"You don't seem nervous at all. Are you very confident about this exam?"
"Being nervous doesn't solve anything. Since we're standing here, the only thing to think about is how to make a dish that the examiner will approve of."
Hearing Megumi Tadokoro's question, Okabe chuckled lightly before answering. Then, his gaze fell on her still-trembling fingers. "If I'm not mistaken, those small scars on your hands are from handling seafood for many years, right? The seafood from the Tohoku region is famous throughout Japan."
"Eh? Y-You can tell just by looking?"
Okabe's words made Megumi Tadokoro's eyes widen in surprise. She subconsciously opened her palms, revealing numerous faint white scars on her fingertips and the web of her thumb.
The scars were a mix of old and new, most of them from accidents when she was learning to cook in her earlier years. There were no recent ones, which showed how rapidly her culinary skills had improved.
"Um... Our family's inn is in a small fishing port town. Because the scenery is beautiful during the right season, a lot of tourists come to visit every year.
But since the tourists are seasonal, our family is often short-staffed. To help ease the pressure on the inn, I do what I can, and handling seafood is one of those things.
But those are just ordinary things, nothing special..."
Her fingertips gently rubbed against her palm, feeling the slight cuts from handling raw fish. Megumi Tadokoro's voice was quiet; she felt such things were very common.
At least, when faced with so many elites, she couldn't help but feel inferior.
"Doing an ordinary thing well is, in itself, an extraordinary thing. Besides, hasn't your skill steadily improved in the process?"
Looking at Megumi Tadokoro, who had her head bowed and spoke in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, Okabe suddenly understood the root of her lack of confidence.
After entering Totsuki, Megumi Tadokoro was faced with a group of heirs from various famous restaurants.
Having grown up in a small inn, with her only cooking experience being helping out in the family inn's cafeteria, it was natural for her to think she was inferior to others.
And once such a thought takes hold, the dishes one creates will carry an aura of weakness.
This wasn't an abstract expression.
It's that when a chef adds ingredients and seasonings, their deep-seated lack of confidence leads to complex thoughts, always worrying if it's not enough or too much.
This causes the originally correct flavors to become unbalanced.
Such indecisiveness is the mark of weakness.
"Everyone here is an heir to a famous restaurant, and they've received systematic culinary training since they were children. Compared to them, I'm just too ordinary..."
Megumi Tadokoro bit her lip and spoke her mind.
"You don't really need to compare yourself to them."
"While it's true that some people from prominent families are stronger than ordinary people, look at most of the people here. They exude an aura of weakness. Their hands show no signs of long-term practice of the fundamentals."
Hearing Megumi Tadokoro's words, the thought 'I knew it' surfaced in Okabe's mind. He then glanced at the hands of the others; more than seventy percent of the chefs had delicate palms.
Clearly, not everyone could endure the hardships of being a chef.
Especially for these young masters and ladies who had been pampered since childhood. They faced too many temptations, making it difficult to truly concentrate.
People like Erina Nakiri and Alice Nakiri, who were willing to delve deep into the culinary arts, were the true outliers among these wealthy families.
"In other words, even if these pampered young masters and ladies have famous instructors, most of what they learn is theory. Their practical skills might not even be as good as yours."
The way to break through feelings of inferiority is to change one's perspective and self-perception. Another way is to accumulate enough successful experiences; success is the fastest way to overcome inferiority.
Of course, in the current situation, using success as a method wasn't very feasible. So, Okabe decided to use comparison to help Megumi Tadokoro see herself correctly.
"But I couldn't get a single word in during their conversations just now. It felt like they were all talking about high-level techniques I've never even heard of."
Megumi Tadokoro looked to the side hesitantly.
"At our current skill level, we don't need overly advanced techniques. As long as we have solid fundamentals, we can handle the vast majority of dishes with ease."
Following Megumi Tadokoro's gaze, he saw a man with brown hair explaining an innovative way to make a certain French sauce, which drew a round of praise and applause from those around him.
"Whether a dish is delicious or not depends more on the skill of your hands. Strong theory gives you an advantage when cooking, but it's not the decisive factor. Strong technique is what truly matters."
Okabe's voice was calm.
Theory and practice are inseparable.
But people who are strong in practice are generally not weak in theory, while those who are brilliant in theory may not necessarily be able to execute it in practice.
Armchair strategizing has been a pejorative term since ancient times.
"Alright, stop thinking about all that nonsense."
"The strength or weakness of others has nothing to do with us. The Totsuki exams won't get harder because others are stronger, nor will they get easier because others are incompetent.
We chefs spend our whole lives comparing, but not with others—with ourselves.
Is today's self a little better than yesterday's? Can I continue to improve tomorrow? If I haven't improved for a long time, how should I adjust?
All these things... as long as tomorrow's self is steadily stronger than today's, has learned something new, has had a realization, that's more than good enough."
Seeing the still-conflicted look in Megumi Tadokoro's eyes, Okabe stood up from the bench.
Her personality was likely not something developed later in life but rather a disposition unique to a small-town girl. Trying to change it with just a few words was probably too difficult.
However, his words today would surely become a seed planted in Megumi Tadokoro's heart. When the time was right, it would sprout and grow into a towering tree!
And just as Okabe stood up.
A sound came from the main door of the examination hall. The long-sealed space suddenly swung open, revealing the scene inside.
The examinees waiting in the garden all looked over, their faces filled with curiosity.
However, just one glance was enough to make their previously relaxed expressions turn subtly ugly, and a sense of gravity settled in their hearts.
A thick, mixed smell of burnt food and the sour stench of failed ingredients assaulted their nostrils, mingling with the aroma of successful dishes to create a peculiar scent.
The examinees who had walked in with high spirits earlier were now like eggplants wilted by frost. The vast majority of them had their heads bowed low, with only a few showing expressions of relief.
Looking deeper inside.
Someone was leaning against the wall in despair, their eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, mouth opening and closing without a word, as if unable to accept reality.
Someone was covering their face with their hands, tears seeping through their fingers, their shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Another's face was deathly pale, their hands still clutching a grease-stained apron, the corners of their mouth turned down as if it were their final tribute.
Wails and soft sobs filled the air.
"How is this possible... My sauce was perfect!"
A boy with messy hair muttered to himself, repeatedly looking at his trembling hands before grabbing his hair in anguish.
"I was so close, so close!"
Another girl, on the verge of tears, confided in her companion. Her cooking station still held a mostly completed dish, but time had run out first.
"This is too harsh. Weren't we told that as long as you qualify for the entrance exam, anyone can pass? It's been like this for years, so why has it changed for us..."
Someone muttered in disbelief, their face filled with intense unwillingness.
"Just another bunch of useless fools who only know how to enjoy themselves, making a big fuss over nothing."
Although the entrance exams had just begun today, it had been like this since the morning, with a failure rate as high as ninety percent.
"This year, Totsuki is recruiting talent from all over the world. The mediocre don't even qualify to compete. Did you all come here without even gathering any information?"
The one who sneered was a plainly dressed boy.
He didn't have the prominent family background of those around him, nor did he have many sources of information, so he had arrived early in the morning to gather intel himself.
The ones now emerging from the examination hall were the second batch of examinees on the first day.
Being cautious, he wanted to verify if the difficulty of the Totsuki entrance exam had truly increased, so he didn't enter with the second batch and had waited until now.
"The third batch of examinations will begin in ten minutes. This batch will accommodate fifty examinees. Admission will stop once the number is reached.
The rest will participate in the next batch. Examinees, please prepare in advance. You may now enter the hall early."
Ignoring the wails of the failures around them, a middle-aged man walked out of the examination classroom and coldly swept his gaze over the examinees standing in the garden.
"Let's go."
Looking at the desperate examinees being expelled from the site and the cleaning staff quickly clearing the cooking stations, Okabe let out a long breath. He then looked at Megumi Tadokoro, who was sitting beside him, and invited her to go forward with him.
Megumi Tadokoro, who had been feeling much better after Okabe's comforting words, turned deathly pale upon seeing this tragic scene.
Tension and unease spread through her heart.
"Just try to steer the theme towards what you're good at. If you're given a recipe to follow, just proceed steadily based on your past experience.
Imagine this isn't an exam, but that you're making three meals a day for your family. Cook with love for your family. Besides, the worst that can happen is you fail and have to start over. Don't put too much pressure on yourself."
Seeing Megumi Tadokoro's expression, Okabe spoke and patted her on the back.
The light, stinging sensation brought the girl back to her senses. She looked up and met his clean and pure gaze, and her panicked heart instantly calmed down a bit.
"Okabe-kun..."
Even though they had just met, and even though they hadn't said much to each other, looking at the man before her, Megumi Tadokoro couldn't help but want to trust him.
Charisma.
Okabe possessed a captivating charisma!
"See you at Totsuki. I believe we can definitely become classmates."
"Yes, we definitely will!"
The sunlight streamed down, and the boy's warm smile left a deep impression on Megumi Tadokoro.
In that instant.
Her heart pounded like thunder, beating uncontrollably and violently.
And the instigator of it all was completely unaware, currently waving his arms enthusiastically at Erina Nakiri, who had come to find him.
"Over here, Erina, Hisako."
"What are you two doing here?"
Seeing Okabe standing next to Megumi Tadokoro, with Ikaros standing guard nearby, Erina Nakiri wore a puzzled expression.
"Just wandering around because I was bored, and ended up here. The exam is about to start, so there's no point staying outside. Let's go in."
Okabe scratched his face guiltily, giving a casual excuse. He then turned his gaze to the wide-open examination hall in the distance and quickly walked towards it as he spoke.
At this moment.
Because of the tragic scene in the examination hall, no one dared to make a move, all frozen in place.
"Okay."
Erina Nakiri didn't press the matter, but as she turned, she gave Megumi Tadokoro a deep look, finding her vaguely familiar. Then, she walked on, following him.
Hisako Arato followed closely behind.
The people around them watched the three figures, took a deep breath, and followed as well.
No matter what, the exam had to go on.
Delaying was just a slow death. Instead of that, it was better to summon their courage and move forward with their heads held high.
Okabe and the others entered the auditorium with the crowd.
The space inside the examination hall was even more vast than it appeared from the outside.
Inside, dozens of standard cooking stations were arranged in neat squares. Metal stoves and all sorts of cooking utensils were available, with basically nothing missing.
Staff members moved between them, quickly cleaning up the messes left by the previous group of contestants. The outer cooking stations had already been tidied up.
At the very front of the auditorium was a dais about half a meter high, on which sat a long table covered with a white tablecloth. Those were the examiners' seats.
"That person... why does he look so familiar..."
"Could it be?"
"Silence!"
A resonant voice boomed through the auditorium via a sound system. The chatter instantly died down, and all eyes focused on the dais.
A middle-aged man with a stern face, wearing a white Totsuki instructor's uniform, stood before the main seat. His gaze was sharp as he slowly scanned the anxious examinees below.
"I am the head examiner for this entrance exam, Roland Chapelle."
"Totsuki Academy is a cradle for cultivating elites of the culinary world, but it is also a cruel battlefield.
Those without talent, lacking perseverance, or harboring侥幸之人, are not qualified to set foot here. If anyone wants to leave now, you may do so!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a particular lethality. The simple opening remarks made many examinees break out in a cold sweat, completely losing the relaxed attitude they had outside.
But having come this far, fleeing without even cooking would be too humiliating. Even if Roland Chapelle's pass rate was low, it wasn't impossible.
As heirs to major restaurants, they had their pride and wouldn't do something as cowardly as fleeing before the battle.
On the other side, Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato paid no attention to Roland Chapelle's speech and had already taken their places at their designated cooking stations.
Erina Nakiri's station was in the middle of the front row, the absolute center position. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression indifferent as she surveyed the slightly chaotic scene around her.
The dissatisfaction in her heart deepened.
It's just an entrance exam of this level, what are these guys even fired up about? They're all elites from major restaurants; they should commit seppuku if they can't pass.
Hisako Arato took her position at a station behind and to the side of Erina Nakiri. While listening to Roland Chapelle's speech, she was taking out her personal knives from her knife case and arranging them on the cooking station, quickly adjusting them to the position that was most comfortable for her to use.
Okabe, on the other hand, stayed in a back row by the window, leaning against the wall, enjoying the feeling of the gentle breeze blowing in from outside. He felt exceptionally peaceful.
Seeing that his companions were not with him, Megumi Tadokoro mustered her courage and came to the cooking station next to his, giving him a slight nod.
Okabe returned a smile.
"From the moment you stand in a kitchen, you bear the responsibility of creating delicious food. This has nothing to do with experience or position. In my examination hall, any dish that does not reach an 'Excellent' grade is a failure."
Looking at the boys and girls who were either gathered around the dais watching him or had already chosen their stations and were standing before them, Roland Chapelle's voice carried an authority that brooked no argument.
"I heard from my cousin who was expelled two years ago."
"Roland Chapelle, the chef at Totsuki who is said to never smile. His evaluation of students' cooking can only be described with one word: harsh. Anything less than 'Excellent' is a failure..."
"My older cousin also decided to drop out after taking his class. She said his critiques crushed her self-esteem, and she felt she couldn't continue on the path of a chef..."
"My uncle too..."
As a relatively famous chef at Totsuki Academy, Roland Chapelle's name was not only known on campus, but many outside the school were also aware of his existence.
As his words fell, the venue immediately erupted into heated discussion. Everyone's expression was grim; clearly, no one wanted to face this examiner.
"Now then, the menu for this examination is Ratatouille a la Provençale. It is a home-style dish from Provence, France, a basic dish that every family knows how to make."
"To prevent anyone from not knowing this dish, I will write the recipe on the blackboard. Those who don't know it can come and look. As long as you make a dish that satisfies me within two hours, you will pass. No whispering is allowed."
Roland Chapelle's voice was not loud. He then turned and began writing on the blackboard behind him. After he finished, he had someone bring the blackboard down.
"Ratatouille a la Provençale? So conventional..."
Hearing Roland Chapelle's words, Erina Nakiri's expression froze for a moment. Seeing the pained expressions of the failed examinees earlier, she had thought the test would be difficult.
But the topic for this exam was actually Ratatouille, a dish so common it couldn't be more common.
"What? It's just Ratatouille! I was so nervous for nothing. If it's just this, it's way too easy!"
"Indeed. My family runs a French restaurant, and this dish is hardly ever ordered because it's so simple and doesn't show much technical skill. Anyone can easily make it at home."
"Easy, easy! This exam is in the bag!"
Upon hearing the theme for this exam, more than half of the examinees showed expressions of relief and then headed to the nearby ingredient area to select their ingredients.
Some were still unsure, but when they went up to look at the recipe on the blackboard, they too relaxed, because the recipe was too simple.
It was the kind of dish that an ordinary person could easily make after reading the recipe.
"Excuse me, please let me through."
"If you're done looking, hurry back. If you have to, take a picture with your phone. Don't just stand here blocking the way."
Pushing aside the man who had been blocking Megumi Tadokoro's view for a long time, Okabe's own line of sight cleared up.
As he spoke, he took out his phone and snapped a picture, then took another for Megumi Tadokoro before heading back.
Ratatouille a la Provençale. He had heard of this famous dish, made popular in his previous life by the animated movie 'Ratatouille', but for him, it was just something he'd heard of.
Because he preferred meat, he rarely cooked vegetarian dishes back at Ryōzanpaku. Even when he did, they were mostly Chinese cuisine; he had very little contact with this kind of French food.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I'll go pick my ingredients now."
Taking the phone from Okabe, Megumi Tadokoro thanked him gratefully, then trotted over to the ingredient area and began to compete with those around her for ingredients.
Good ingredients were limited.
When everyone is a competitor, everyone is an opponent. Another's poorly made dish could sometimes serve as a foil for their own culinary skills.
This led some malicious individuals to deliberately damage the surrounding ingredients while choosing their own, causing their surfaces to be bruised.
Okabe noticed this happening, secretly taught a few of them a lesson, and then leisurely began to pick his own ingredients.
His fingers slid lightly over the vegetables and fruits, his gaze sharp as lightning. From time to time, he would pick up one or two to weigh them in his hand, then place the better ones into his basket.
[Five Methods of Distinguishing Vegetables and Fruits proficiency +1]
A long-unheard voice sounded. After six years of refinement, Okabe's Five Methods of Distinguishing Vegetables and Fruits had reached a level of complete mastery.
If not for the fact that he rarely made vegetarian dishes, his proficiency would have likely reached its maximum value long ago.
"The method is quite simple. A smooth replication should be enough to pass, but that would be too boring..."
"However, innovating on a mature dish isn't easy. I'll make it first, taste it, and then think of a way to expand on it..."
Okabe made up his mind.
After selecting all the necessary ingredients, he returned to his cooking station and began to work nimbly.
For him now, cooking was his entire life. Thinking about how to create more delicious dishes to satisfy himself was the meaning of his life.
It was precisely this purity that allowed him to go further on the culinary path.
____
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