"Okay, hurry up and get ready. We'll set off in three days."
Nakiri Munee glanced at the two of them before turning and walking away.
"There's actually someone with such an outrageous skill in this world. Maybe that guy Daiki really can put Erina in her place for once…"
Alice Nakiri couldn't help but imagine the scene—Daiki standing victorious, Erina defeated for the first time. She wasn't rooting against her cousin out of hatred. No, what she really wanted… was to prove herself.
In the original timeline, it always seemed like Alice and Erina were at odds, as if there was some deep animosity between them. But the truth was simpler. It all stemmed from a single incident in their childhood.
Alice didn't truly wish for Erina's downfall. She simply wanted to stand on equal footing—to stop being overshadowed. In fact, Alice probably understood Erina better than anyone else. Despite the rivalry, she had always been one of the people who cared the most.
Back when they were little, Alice had brought her cooking to Erina—not just to earn her approval, but because she knew what Erina had been through. The abandonment by her mother. The rigid, twisted upbringing by their father, Azami. As her cousin, Alice had always felt a duty to care, even if it was buried under layers of competition.
But at that age, Erina was already under her father's influence. Her words, sharp and unfiltered like most children's, had cut Alice deeply. Ever since, Alice had secretly wished to see her stumble. Just once.
And yet, when Azami Nakiri staged his coup and seized control of Totsuki, the very first person to act… was Alice. She whisked Erina away and hid her in the Polaris Dormitory, risking everything.
"Let's go, Miss. It's time to pack up," came Kurokiba Ryo's voice, snapping her back to the present.
"Hm? Ryo, you're interested in Daiki too? Makes sense. With your personality, you'd be dying to challenge someone like him."
Alice wasn't surprised. Despite his usual sluggish, disinterested demeanor, once Kurokiba heard of a great chef, the beast in him stirred. He lived for the thrill of culinary combat.
"I am interested," Ryo replied calmly, "Not just in this Daiki guy… but in that so-called 'God Tongue' as well."
His eyes held a simmering intensity. He had heard of the God Tongue long ago—and now he had a chance to challenge both Daiki and Erina. His competitive spirit flared.
Alice chuckled. "I'll admit you're better than me, but Erina's already a senior chef. You've still got some climbing to do."
Kurokiba didn't flinch. "All the more reason to beat her."
That kind of confidence… or maybe arrogance, was exactly what made him dangerous in the kitchen.
"Fine, suit yourself. Just don't cry if you lose."
Alice smirked, pretending not to care. But Ryo's comeback came quick:
"You're the one who cries, Miss. After all, you've got the record."
With that, he walked off, leaving Alice scowling in silence. And yes—technically, he wasn't wrong. She had cried after a loss.
But was that really crying? In her view, it was just letting your passion overflow. Cooking was art, after all. Artists were allowed to be dramatic.
With Kurokiba gone, she could only sulk quietly and start packing.
Three days passed quickly.
During that time, Daiki had managed to get a few small bait rewards, but it seemed his luck had run dry. The things he caught were all mundane—standard ingredients, some everyday utensils. Nothing game-changing.
On the second day at the Totsuki Resort, Daiki was assigned to the kitchen staff.
Surprisingly, the chefs didn't treat him with disdain.
Even though it was clear to some that Daiki had gotten in through connections, no one looked down on him. After all, this was Totsuki. Their reputation was everything. The Resort was a direct extension of the school's image—prestigious, elite, uncompromising.
If someone was accepted to work here, even through back channels, there had to be a reason.
Besides, some of the staff already knew Daiki. His parents had once worked at Totsuki Resort, and he was far from a total stranger. Add Dojima Gin's silent endorsement behind the scenes, and the air of suspicion evaporated quickly.
Daiki might've arrived through an unconventional path—but everyone could feel it.
He wasn't just another name.
He was here for a reason.
"Gin, Daiki's been to the Totsuki Resort plenty of times before. Naturally, he's already familiar with some of the staff here."
Still, no one was prepared for what happened after just a single day of work.
Daiki's performance left everyone in the kitchen speechless.
Even Dojima Gin—who had always trusted Daiki's potential—was caught off guard when reports of his actions reached him. Sure, he'd expected Daiki to settle in quickly and make his mark thanks to his unusual skills…
But this? This was something else entirely.
Daiki hadn't even been assigned cooking duties. After all, those tasks were reserved for chefs preparing meals for the resort's elite guests. Newcomers typically started with the basics—ingredient prep, cleaning, and shadowing senior staff.
It was a way to assess their skill level, ease them into the kitchen's rhythm, and adjust expectations accordingly.
But Daiki threw all those expectations straight out the window.
His assignment for the day had been simple: assist with processing ingredients. A monotonous, often exhausting task—especially in a high-volume kitchen like Totsuki's resort division, where the sheer scale of produce was overwhelming.
For most apprentices, this was a grueling, thankless job.
But Daiki approached it differently.
From the moment he began, it was clear something was off—in a good way. His hands moved with a fluidity that made even seasoned prep cooks pause. Within minutes, he was outpacing everyone. Within the hour, he was lapping them.
Thanks to Shiyi, his unique ability, Daiki's ingredient prep was on another level. His speed alone was several times faster than anyone else in the kitchen. But more impressive than speed was quality.
Every piece of produce he handled came out perfect.
Daiki's heightened sense of touch and culinary intuition allowed him to feel the exact state of each ingredient—firmness, ripeness, moisture content—down to the finest detail. With each motion, he adjusted instinctively, slicing, trimming, peeling, and processing with absolute precision.
The vegetables were blanched just long enough to preserve texture. Meats were trimmed with no waste. Fish were cleaned as though they'd been handled by a master itamae.
By the time the prep shift ended, the entire kitchen was buzzing.
And the most ironic part? Daiki hadn't even gotten to cook yet.
Today's assignments didn't include vegetable cutting stations, so his prized Seven Star Knife stayed sheathed at his waist. That, perhaps, was his only regret.
Still, just from prep alone, he had made an unforgettable impression.
Even the most skeptical senior staff found themselves glancing sideways at him, whispering to one another:
"Who is this guy?"
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