The audience at the scene held back their laughter, glancing at the three judges with grinning expressions that said, "Hurry up and eat, hurry up, I want to see this."
"."
The three judges' faces turned green just looking at it.
Damn it, wasn't this just being a food critic?
Traveling around when there was nothing else to do, reviewing local specialties, pulling in a little sponsorship now and then—what was so bad about that kind of life?
How had it turned into a high-risk profession here?
Had the times developed too quickly, or had they failed to keep up with the trend?
And then there was the chef wearing a green mask. Forget everything else—was that even polite?
The three of them looked at one another, roasting the situation inwardly. None of them wanted to take that step.
In the end, the old man in the middle had a little more courage, perhaps because he had seen more of the world.
In short, he shut his eyes, raised a trembling hand, carefully scooped up a spoonful, and hurriedly stuffed it into his mouth.
Then he froze completely.
"Hey, what's wrong with you? Don't scare me!"
"Say something already! This tofu isn't really poisonous, is it?"
The two judges beside him were sweating with panic, shaking him and patting his chest.
After quite a while, the man slowly opened his eyes. His face had gone bright red, and he loudly spat out two words.
"Delicious!"
After saying that, he ignored his companions' attempts to stop him and kept reaching out with his spoon, shoveling it into his mouth nonstop. He clearly looked deeply poisoned.
The two of them jumped in fright and could not hold him back no matter how hard they tried. Only after the other party deliberately left