Totsuki Culinary Academy—the famed institution that had produced some of the finest chefs in the world—was bustling with activity.
Today marked the entrance assessment for prospective students.
Strictly speaking, none of the candidates present were officially students yet. They were merely chefs who had qualified for the assessment, hoping to earn the right to wear the academy's uniform.
In the center of the testing hall stood a woman with vibrant red hair and a laid-back smile: Rindo Kobayashi, one of Totsuki's Ten Elite and the proctor for this year's trial.
She clapped her hands once and spoke with a mischievous grin.
"You've got five minutes."
"That's it."
"Use the ingredients in front of you to make something that satisfies me."
The candidates blinked, stunned.
"Wait, what?"
"Did she say five minutes?"
"That's insane!"
"And we only get eggs, bacon, flour, onions, salt, and soy sauce? What kind of dish can we even make with that?!"
Someone in the back looked on the verge of tears.
"Mom! I wanna go home! This school is terrifying!"
The room erupted into chaos—panic, muttering, some even collapsing in despair.
It was an intimidating welcome to the culinary battlefield of Totsuki.
Rindo casually flipped her stopwatch.
"If five minutes is enough to make you fall apart, then I'll be blunt—"
"You're trash. You're not qualified to set foot in this academy."
Her tone turned icy as she hit the button.
"Assessment starts now. Four minutes, fifty-five seconds… fifty-four… fifty-three…"
"What?! It's already started?!"
"Oh no, oh no—what can I make?! What's fast?!"
Instantly, the room burst into motion. Knives clattered, pans sizzled, and raw desperation filled the air.
The clock ticked down, and eventually, the final dish was tasted.
Rindo leaned back with a deep sigh, picking something from between her teeth with a toothpick.
"Man… what a letdown."
She stared at the half-finished dishes before her.
"I should've said no to Eishi when he asked me to proctor this. But hey, I figured it'd be fun to taste some food, right?"
She stood up and stretched.
"But seriously, if this is the standard of the new students this year… Totsuki's doomed."
Her disappointment was palpable.
Yet, even Rindo couldn't have predicted it.
The class standing before her—the 92nd cohort of Totsuki Culinary Academy—would one day be hailed as the greatest generation in the academy's history.
Among them:
Erina Nakiri, heiress of the Nakiri family, and her cousin Alice Nakiri, a molecular gastronomy prodigy.
Soma Yukihira, son of the legendary Joichiro, destined to rewrite the culinary world.
Ryo Kurokiba, the seafood battle god.
Hayama Akira, master of aroma and spices.
The Aldini twins—Takumi and Isami—each a fierce culinary force in their own right.
Together, this group of young geniuses would go on to topple the entire Ten Elite Council, shake the very hierarchy of Totsuki, and usher in a new culinary era.
Even the Academy Director would one day look back and refer to them as a golden generation—a lineup of talents that redefined what it meant to be a student at Totsuki.
But for now… none of that potential had yet awakened.
And Rindo's disappointment made perfect sense.
Meanwhile, at the Shunkatei…
The banquet had nearly ended.
Zane stood at the entrance, preparing to leave.
He turned to Sonoka and offered a gentle smile.
"Sonoka, thanks for inviting me. The French cuisine tonight was great. And it's clear you and Taki share a deep bond."
"Having a friend like her… it's something to be cherished. Honestly, I'm a little jealous."
Sonoka hesitated.
Her eyes held a hint of reluctance.
"Zane… can't you stay just a little longer?"
Zane shook his head, smiling lightly.
"How could I interrupt a reunion between two old friends?"
With that, he gave a polite nod and turned to leave, disappearing into the night.
Despite the tavern being right next door, Sonoka stared after him as if it were a dramatic farewell.
Taki, watching from behind, clicked her tongue in irritation.
"Big-boobed monster."
"He's already gone, and you're still blushing like a lovesick girl?"
Without warning, she approached Sonoka from behind and—smack!—lifted her chest with both hands.
"Taki!"
Sonoka yelped, face turning bright red as she scrambled away.
"You're doing it again!"
Taki, who had the body of a runway model—flat in all directions—often teased Sonoka out of jealousy.
Sonoka's timid personality didn't help, making her an easy target for teasing.
"Alright, enough messing around," Taki finally said, grabbing a glass of Lafite red wine and settling back in her seat.
Her mood had turned serious.
"Tell me honestly. Was the WGO evaluation really that strict?"
"Even you couldn't reach two stars?"
Sonoka sat down slowly, her expression softening with resignation.
"Yeah…"
"The WGO executives are on a whole different level. They're… monsters. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't meet their standards."
Taki frowned, swirling the wine in her glass.
"Even you couldn't do it…"
"Then what chance does a chef like me have?"
She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.
Sonoka gave her a meaningful look.
"To be honest, maybe you should stop being so hostile toward Zane."
Taki blinked.
"What?"
"I know you won't believe it… but I saw it with my own eyes."
"Chef Zane made WGO Executive Anne cry—with a single dish."
Taki's glass paused mid-air.
"Anne? That Anne? The Ice Queen of WGO?"
Sonoka nodded.
"Within WGO, an Executive is second only to the Special Executive."
"Even my best dishes didn't impress her."
"But Zane… Zane made her cry."
Taki stared down into her wine, lips slightly parted.
The silence lingered.
"He's really… that good?"
She muttered the words, more to herself than anyone else.
And for the first time that night, a spark of genuine curiosity flickered in her eyes.