The world is always changing.
Every ingredient is familiar.
Yet when combined with a chef's unique philosophy and innovative technique, they become more than just parts—they transform into something beautiful, transcendent.
And on this day in the Autumn Election preliminaries, Nakiri Alice reminded everyone that cuisine could defy even language itself.
The air was charged with tension as the judging table had just experienced something unforgettable.
"Any taste… any perception… any experience," Natsume Orie whispered, her gaze drifting beyond the dish before her, as though she were peering into a different culinary realm.
She turned slowly toward the crowd, her voice laced with quiet reverence. "This dish… cannot be captured by words or beautiful language. Even now, I cannot fully grasp its essence."
Gasps echoed across the room.
The crowd knew her title: The Curry Queen—a living legend in spice-based cuisine. For her to admit that she could not judge a curry dish with precision was more than surprising; it was borderline earth-shattering.
Natsume's expression grew solemn. "It's a strange feeling. As a judge, it's frustrating. But as a lover of cuisine…" She smiled faintly. "It's exhilarating. This—this is a dish that heralds a new era."
The crowd exploded.
The words "revolutionary dish" carried weight, especially when spoken by Natsume Orie. Chefs from around the world had waited years to earn even a fraction of such praise. Yet here, a first-year Totsuki student had achieved it.
Alice Nakiri bowed slightly, her silver hair reflecting the stage lights. Despite her usual smugness, her eyes were bright with genuine joy. "Would you like me to explain the components?"
Natsume leaned forward, fascinated. "Please."
Alice stepped beside the judges' table, her gloved hand hovering above the dish as if guiding them through an art gallery.
"The green sauce is a puree of cilantro seeds, lightly toasted and blended with micro-grated lemongrass oil and galangal."
"Those tiny green dots?" Natsume whispered, astonished.
Alice nodded. "Yes. They may look decorative, but they're functional—activating the palate with freshness before the main hit of flavor."
She gestured toward the soft cube beneath the chicken. "This is a mousse of foie gras, turmeric root, and white port wine, frozen using liquid nitrogen and broken into micro-crystals."
The judges' jaws slackened.
"And what about the white outer layer?" Orie asked.
"That's a potato and cheese foam made with eight different cheeses—Comté, aged Cheddar, Gorgonzola Dolce, Taleggio, Gruyère, Parmigiano, Camembert, and Roquefort. Blended with Yukon Gold potatoes, then stabilized with lecithin and passed through a siphon."
"A-a nano-scale foam?" Natsume blinked. "You used molecular breakdown to change the texture entirely!"
Alice's lips curled with pride. "Yes. Every element was constructed at a molecular level. It's about structure and feeling, not just taste. In molecular gastronomy, it's not enough for food to taste good—it must evoke emotion."
She placed her hand over her heart. "I wanted this curry to feel like tasting time itself."
The room fell silent.
Then the judges stood—actually stood from their chairs.
"This isn't just food," one whispered. "It's philosophy."
Natsume inhaled deeply. "Transcending ingredients… defying expectation. That's why this curry is revolutionary."
The score appeared onscreen: 94 points.
A roar shook the building.
"94?!"
"That's a new record for Block B!"
"She crushed the competition!"
"Only Gin Dojima ever scored higher in preliminaries—with a 96!"
Even Takumi Aldini, standing backstage with crossed arms, whistled under his breath. "Tch. Impressive."
Alice turned slightly and gave him a wink.
But the show wasn't over yet.
"Next contestant," Kawashima called out, her voice still shaky from shock. "Please come forward."
A soft "Haa~" echoed from the crowd.
"Oh, right. There's still one more contestant."
"Who was it again… Megumi? The shy girl who ranked at the bottom?"
Eyes turned as Megumi Tadokoro stepped forward.
She moved slowly, a bubbling pot in her hands. Though her steps were unsure, her eyes held a quiet fire.
"Judges, this is my dish," she said gently. "Monkfish curry hotpot. Please enjoy."
Orie blinked. "Monkfish?"
As Megumi opened the lid, a burst of fragrant steam escaped, cascading like white silk across the table. The scent of curry interwove with a sweetness no one expected.
The broth shimmered golden-white, dotted with chunks of monkfish, vegetables, and rich paste.
"It's beautiful," Natsume murmured.
Orie took the ladle, scooping broth first. She brought it to her lips—and paused.
Then, a sip.
Warmth.
Depth.
Emotion.
It wasn't flashy or experimental like Alice's, but it was… soulful. Deep. Ancient.
She took another spoonful—and then a bite of the monkfish.
"Delicate, tender, and bouncy," Orie said. "It absorbs the curry while still retaining its character."
The other judges nodded in unison.
Megumi watched them anxiously. She had labored for hours refining her hometown hotpot recipe into this curry variant, adapting it for gourmet competition while keeping its soul intact.
Chrysanthemum pumpkin, red-skinned radish, soft tofu, burdock from Tachikawa, local sausage… All chosen for harmony and contrast.
Each ingredient sang.
And then came the star—the monkfish liver.
"You used the liver paste as the umami core?" Natsume asked.
"Yes," Megumi replied. "I mashed it, mixed it with sake and miso, and added it to the curry base. When it simmers, the fat disperses slowly, enriching the broth."
The room grew warm. Visibly warm.
One of the judges began unbuttoning his collar. "Hah… Is it hot in here?"
"It's the dish," Orie laughed, flushed. "It's heating my whole body."
"I feel so alive!" one judge exclaimed. "Like diving into a hot spring after climbing a snowy mountain!"
The screen lit up.
89 points.
A stunned silence.
Then cheers.
"She tied with Subaru!"
"She beat Yuuki and Ryoko!"
"She's in the top four!"
Megumi's eyes widened. "I-I made it…?"
Backstage, she pinched her cheek. It hurt.
She smiled.
Miyoko approached with quiet respect. "You did well, Megumi. Keep fighting. For all of us."
Megumi blinked. "W-we've… met?"
"Not exactly." Miyoko gave a gentle smile. "But your food… I'll remember it."
And with that, she walked away, leaving Megumi standing amidst a whirlwind of change.
Because talent could only go so far.
It was support—the quiet hand, the subtle guidance—that had carried her this far.
Soma taught her confidence. But it was the Tavern Owner, Zane, who taught her vision.
To succeed, one needs three things: talent, effort, and someone to believe in you.
Megumi, once the weakest in her class, had all three now.
And in the eyes of the world, she was no longer just "Megumi from Tohoku."
She was Megumi Tadokoro—finalist of Block B.