"It wasn't that exaggerated, but it wasn't far off either."
"This..."
"Do you want to know about the grudge between our Nakiri family and him?"
"Yes."
"It started thirteen years ago. Managi had the same God Tongue as you, and her personality when she was young was very similar to yours."
Nakiri Senzaemon paused, then sighed.
"Because of the God Tongue, her tastes gradually became more and more demanding, and after getting married, her temper grew increasingly volatile."
"Thirteen years ago, while serving as an entrance examiner at Totsuki Academy, she berated every single applicant until they left. Not one exception."
"And Sakurai was one of them."
"This... shouldn't be enough to make him hate her to this day, should it?" Nakiri Erina asked hesitantly.
It seemed like she had done something similar herself? No, she had always just told the truth. She had never deliberately made things difficult for anyone. If it was good, it was good. If it wasn't, it wasn't.
"It didn't end there. A few months later, Managi went to eat at a small restaurant that had received rave reviews. Her reaction was excessive, and her review caused that little restaurant to go bankrupt overnight."
"This..." Nakiri Erina looked conflicted.
Nakiri Senzaemon deliberately glanced at his granddaughter before continuing.
"Sakurai came from a single-parent household. His mother was originally a hostess. It could not have been easy for her to save enough money to open a restaurant."
"After the restaurant went bankrupt, Sakurai's mother fell seriously ill and passed away not long afterward."
"According to my investigation, the main causes were prolonged overwork and emotional distress."
Nakiri Erina remained silent, suddenly feeling so stifled that she could barely breathe.
From Mom's perspective, she probably did not think she had done anything wrong.
After all, having tasted countless delicacies from around the world, her palate had become incredibly demanding. An ordinary little restaurant truly could not satisfy her.
To her, it might have simply been the truth.
However, she had underestimated her own influence.
"Then... how did Mr. Sakurai become like this? Thirteen years ago, he should have only been a high school student, right?"
"Perhaps this is what talent is." Nakiri Senzaemon raised his head and looked at the sky, sighing. "Just like the God Tongue, he possesses a similar talent for business."
Nakiri Erina was silent for several seconds before asking:
"So the problems Totsuki has been having recently were all caused by him?"
"Yes. But since he is willing to compete fairly, there is no need to worry too much."
"Do we really... not need to worry?"
It's Just a Means
It's Just a Means
A little over an hour later, Yukihira Joichiro walked into the restaurant carrying a plate of food.
"This is my specialty. I put a tremendous amount of effort into it. Please enjoy!"
The moment he lifted the cover from the plate, a rich aroma rushed out and instantly filled the entire room.
On the plate sat a whole roasted turkey, accompanied by a specially made sauce.
"I can tell that you truly put a lot of effort into it." Shirou glanced at Yukihira Joichiro.
"Well? Are you ready to admit defeat?" Yukihira Joichiro chuckled.
"No. You've already lost."
If he used magic such as hypnosis, the other man would never truly accept the outcome once he thought back on it afterward.
So at times like this, it was better to use the old trick again.
Shirou picked up a dining knife, reinforced it with Armament Haki, then opened his mouth and lightly drew it across the front of his tongue.
Suppressing his body's automatic recovery, he used a napkin to wipe away the blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, then turned his gaze back to Yukihira Joichiro.
This time, the man could no longer force a smile.
He clenched his fists, then slowly loosened them. After several seconds of silence, he asked in a somewhat hoarse voice:
"Did you really have to go this far? A street should be nothing more than pocket change to you."
"Even if you refused to admit it no matter what, I could understand that. A chef is supposed to speak through their cooking."
"But what is this supposed to be?"
Shirou scoffed and slowly said:
"I think you may have misunderstood. My recovery ability is excellent. This is only a temporary loss of taste."
"I see. So this is your weapon?" Yukihira Joichiro frowned and nodded slightly, apparently accepting Shirou's explanation.
"Something like that."
Back then, he had injured his tongue and severed his taste nerves only because he hated those few seconds when tasting delicious food made him lose control of his mind.
Now that he possessed the powers of his other selves from other worlds, this was merely a means of winning, no different from magic.
Moreover, compared to Hypnosis Magic—which people found difficult to understand and which brought countless future complications—this method was clearly easier for others to accept wholeheartedly.
Using the knife that had just cut his tongue, Shirou sliced off a piece of turkey, put it into his mouth, then spat it out without changing expression.
"So, you lost."
"Yes, I lost." Yukihira Joichiro let out a long sigh. "No wonder Soma lost that little restaurant. Against an unreasonable opponent like you, I don't think there is any chef in this world who could win."
"I see..."
Shirou turned to Nakiri Erina, who stood nearby with fear on her face, and reminded her:
"Miss Erina, Yukihira Joichiro has lost. The money you promised to lend him..."
"No." Yukihira Joichiro suddenly spoke up. "I'll handle it myself. This was my Shokugeki. I'll repay the money I lost as soon as possible."
"Oh...? I don't particularly care, but can you repay it within three days?"
"I can't! But I can repay you in another way."
Shirou looked him over from head to toe and pondered for a moment.
"In that case, I've recently been planning to open a Chef Academy to challenge Totsuki. Are you interested?"
"Fine! Soma belongs to you from now on." Yukihira Joichiro answered without hesitation.
Shirou looked at him speechlessly and said nothing.
Seeing this, Yukihira Joichiro knew he could not keep playing dumb. His expression gradually turned serious.
"Soma has extraordinary talent for cooking. I believe that one day, he will definitely surpass me."
"Since you are opening an academy, aren't students more important than teachers?"
"Or do you think Soma's talent is not worth that street?"
After saying that, Yukihira Joichiro's gaze unconsciously shifted to the side. He did not quite dare to meet Shirou's eyes.
Although he believed Soma was talented, surpassing him was merely empty talk.
As for being worth an entire street, that was even more shameless boasting.
But negotiations depended on momentum.
"Your words may be colored by a father's subjective view of his son, but I accept. Your son will be used to settle the debt."
Yukihira Joichiro was startled inwardly. He actually agreed! Could that brat Soma really possess some talent I don't know about?
Perhaps he could test him a little.
"Wait. Aside from the debt, I want that street too!"
"Oh...?" Shirou pondered for several seconds, then nodded slightly. "Fine."
Trading one street, plus money equal to the value of another street, for Yukihira Soma was a very good deal.
After all, he was the protagonist of a Gourmet Anime. He was worth that price. It was no loss.
Yukihira Joichiro rested his chin on his hand and sank into thought.
What was going on? That brat Soma only had decent perseverance. There was nothing particularly special about him otherwise.
But whatever! If he could trade him for that street, Soma would definitely be happy when he found out.
"Then it's settled. However, Soma has been locking himself in his room since yesterday afternoon. No matter what I say, he refuses to come out. I may need to trouble you to make a trip there."
"Are you sure?"
"Please!"
"Fine, then I won't hold back."
The corners of Shirou's lips rose slightly. Crushing young chefs is what I do best.
Just as he stood up to leave, Nakiri Erina could not help asking:
"Wait! Why did you cut your own tongue? Why did you have to go so far just to win? Is victory really that important to you?"
Shirou stopped, turned back to look at her, and said in a deep voice:
"Yes. That's exactly right. This is a world where Shokugeki victories and defeats decide everything. Since I cannot be a chef, I can only use other means to increase my chances of winning."
When Shirou reached the doorway, Nakiri Erina suddenly took a deep breath and shouted:
"I... will definitely make food that moves you."
Shirou turned back once more and scoffed.
"Then I'll wait for you to make food that can earn heartfelt praise even from someone without a sense of taste."
In a certain room, the doors and windows were tightly shut, the curtains drawn so tightly that not a trace of air could pass through. The room was therefore pitch-dark.
In a corner of the room, Yukihira Soma lay motionless on the bed, his mind constantly replaying what had happened yesterday afternoon.
It had been something that completely shattered his worldview, leaving him with an indescribable sense of bewilderment and helplessness.
In his fixed understanding, everything could be resolved through Shokugeki.
He had encountered many troublesome customers while growing up, but every time, Dad had driven them away with his cooking.
Even customers who deliberately came looking for trouble would become completely convinced after tasting Dad's food.
Those scenes had been incredibly cool.
So he had done the same thing.
Yet even though every step had been exactly the same, the result had been drastically different.
His friend's father had been injured, and he could not escape responsibility for it.
If he had asked a few more questions when that woman came the day before yesterday, then when they returned yesterday, he would not have been left helplessly watching everything happen.
When that knife pierced the man's shoulder, his eyes had been filled with pleading. The hand gripping the knife had trembled constantly, and both his voice and expression had looked exactly like the desperate people often seen on television, those with nowhere left to turn.
Although Soma did not know what had happened to him, the fat businessman had clearly used some despicable method to drive him into a corner.
"What would Dad have done?"
At Least Have a Little Faith in Me
At Least Have a Little Faith in Me
"Is there some perfect solution? Or should I have agreed to transfer the restaurant on the first day?"
"If I had, then what happened on the second day would never have happened."
Before you continue