Cooking.
It's more than just flavor.
It expresses emotions.
It tells stories.
It can warm a person's soul… and in rare cases, even save a life.
Back when she was a student, even with the burden of the God's Tongue, Mana used to enjoy dining in high-end restaurants. She'd sit alone, savoring the experience—appetizers, soups, entrées, paired wines—silently appreciating the chef's intentions in each dish.
Sometimes, she'd ditch the lavish for the humble. On a whim, she'd stop by a busy food street, grab fried skewers, steaming wontons, or charcoal-grilled meat from little family-run eateries.
She wasn't like her daughter, who dismissed ordinary cuisine as beneath her.
No.
Mana had always found joy in food—all food—so long as it had heart.
The rich flavors. The bustling sounds. The warmth of human connection.
Those were the things that once made her happy.
But those days were long gone.
Now, even the finest caviar tasted like ash on her tongue. If gourmet delicacies couldn't move her, how could those old street-side meals ever reach her again?
"I used to wonder…"
Mana's voice was soft, but clear.
"If I were ever to encounter a dish that truly satisfied me… what would it be?"
"Japanese A5 wagyu?"
"Australian lobster?"
"Wild ginseng from Korea?"
"Bluefin tuna? Iberico ham? Imperial caviar?"
"These ingredients represent the height of rarity and luxury. But none of them ever brought me joy."
"I always believed that only a 'super-dish'—something that captured every essence of the culinary arts—could touch me."
Her eyes shifted back to the empty plate before her.
"But who would've thought… it would be fried rice?"
"Spinach, bok choy, and rice."
"Three humble ingredients… yet together, they conquered my God's Tongue."
She turned to Zane, her gaze filled with something he hadn't seen before.
Respect.
A moment later, she stood and bowed.
"Zane. Thank you."
"In the darkest moment of my life… your cooking gave me hope."
Beside her, Anne burst into tears.
"Sob… sob… It's… it's wonderful!"
"I… I didn't know how much I wanted this… to see you smile again…"
Mana turned toward her, startled by the sight of her secretary breaking down.
She remembered clearly.
In her most hopeless moments—when she lashed out, when she gave up, when she wanted to die—Anne had always stayed by her side.
Never complaining. Never asking for anything.
Mana reached out, gently placing a hand on Anne's trembling shoulder.
"You've worked so hard, Anne."
Anne shook her head vigorously through the tears.
"No! Not hard at all!"
"Compared to what you've been through… to the pain you've endured every day… how could my struggles matter?"
"And besides, if not for your guidance, your training, I'd never have become a WGO executive. I have no talent—I owe everything to you!"
She raised her tear-filled eyes, voice trembling but resolute.
"For you, Madame Mana… I'd give my life without hesitation."
Mana's heart warmed.
So many years of pain… but this single moment made it feel worth it.
"Thank you, Anne."
The strong—
They are respected wherever they go.
And in this world, in this age of gourmet supremacy, chefs stand at the top of the food chain.
But even among them, a chef like Zane was a rare existence.
He wasn't just strong. He was daring. Talented. Humble.
And he had done what no one else could:
Conquered the God's Tongue—with fried rice.
"I've traveled the world for ten years," Mana said, her voice growing reflective. "Ever since I left the Nakiri family, I've searched every continent, tried every cuisine."
"I met many chefs—talented, innovative, creative. Their dishes were excellent… but none of them could satisfy the God's Tongue."
"Every time, it was the same. One bite, and I felt sick. I couldn't swallow. They just… couldn't reach me."
She paused.
"Perhaps, in today's culinary world, I've become an insurmountable wall for chefs."
"But tonight, in this small tavern, that wall was shattered."
"By a single plate of fried rice."
She turned to Zane again, her voice firm.
"To me, you are the world's strongest chef."
Anne gasped.
"T-The… world's strongest…?"
It sounded impossible.
Each year, THE·BOOK updated the list of elite three-star restaurants—recognized as the apex of the culinary world. The chefs behind those institutions were hailed as gods in the kitchen.
And yet… none of them had gained Mana's approval.
Zane had.
And he did it with a dish that even street vendors could cook—with a dish that reawakened joy in the heart of someone long thought unreachable.
Anne could only stare, dazed.
It all felt like a dream.
But it was a dream she never wanted to wake from.
Mana let out a small sigh, her smile tinged with melancholy.
"It's just a pity…"
"I can't eat this dish every day."
"If I did… eventually, even it would lose its charm. The God's Tongue would adapt again. My curse would return."
And that was the cruel truth.
Zane's Comet Fried Rice had reached a level that defied understanding. But the God's Tongue… it evolved. It adapted. It moved the goalpost endlessly.
And if that happened again, no matter how incredible Zane's cooking was…
Mana would starve.
Still—
"I'm satisfied."
"To taste something this beautiful… to remember what joy feels like before the end…"
"What more could I ask for?"
She glanced sideways, expression darkening just slightly.
"But Zane…"
"There's something you must be careful of."
"You're not the first chef who tried to conquer the God's Tongue."
"There were others—chefs with immense talent, chefs who gave it their all."
"But when they failed… when they realized they couldn't reach me…"
"They broke."
"Some couldn't return to the kitchen again. Others disappeared. A few… lost themselves entirely."
Mana lowered her gaze.
"I don't want you to share their fate."