A master butcher was not just someone who could carve meat skillfully—true mastery required profound understanding of musculature, tendon structure, fat distribution, and the subtle differences in texture between cuts. Knowing the how was just as vital as knowing the why. Each muscle had a purpose. Each section of the cow told a story of motion, diet, and breeding.
To maximize the flavor, tenderness, and culinary potential of each part, a butcher had to pair every section with the right knife technique—boning, slicing, sawing, carving. From sirloin to shank, no two cuts were the same.
And yet…
With nothing more than a kitchen knife, Zane had done what even professional butchers, armed with precision instruments and decades of experience, could not dream of achieving. He had dissected an entire Tajima cow—one of the finest breeds of Wagyu—cleanly and efficiently, with just a few effortless movements. The meat lay separated by cut, arranged almost reverently on polished wooden boards, glistening with freshness.
Mito, herself raised in the heart of meat preparation and slaughterhouse operations, stood frozen with disbelief.
"Did you really… kill and butcher this entire cow… with just that?" she asked, pointing at the modest kitchen knife in Zane's hand.
Zane grinned, his expression relaxed, as though he had simply chopped a few vegetables. "A couple of swipes, that's all."
It sounded absurd. Impossible. Mito couldn't help but approach the cow, crouching down to inspect the clean cuts. Mana and the others—Hisako, Sonoka, and even Alice, who had just arrived—joined her, peering over with awe and growing confusion.
None of the meat bore signs of brute force or tearing. Every muscle group was separated cleanly at the fascia lines, the sinew barely frayed. The bones were snapped at their natural joints as if guided by surgical precision.
"How…" Mito murmured, brushing her fingers against the edge of a sliced ribeye. "I've watched dozens of butchering methods, traditional and modern. None come close to this."
Zane's smile remained, but he didn't answer.
Mito straightened up, eyes sharp with respect now. "That's not just skill. That's something else. Tell me—what knife technique is that? Can I learn it?"
For a moment, Zane's gaze flickered—not with superiority, but with a distant, almost nostalgic solemnity. "You could dedicate your life to it… and you'd never get close."
The disappointment in Mito's eyes was immediate. But she could tell he wasn't being cruel. He was simply telling the truth.
Fierce Bull Dragon Slash. That was the name of the technique—an art from another world, capable of dissecting even magical beasts. To fully unleash it, Zane needed the "Breaking Army" blade, one of the Seven Star Knives. But even with this simple kitchen knife, the effect was breathtaking.
Mito had seen industrial slaughtering systems. Her family's own facility was among the most advanced in the country. There, modern automation reigned supreme: cow observation pens, isolation gates, conveyor-based processing lines for skinning, cleaning, and segmenting meat.
They even had a machine-learning-driven part identification system. Workers merely tagged the tenderloin, ribeye, or brisket sections, and the system sorted and pre-processed the meat as it passed through the conveyor. The efficiency and cleanliness had revolutionized the industry.
And yet, all that paled in comparison to what she'd just seen—a single man, a single knife, and a level of mastery that no AI or machine could mimic.
Just then, Alice whispered to her mother, tugging on Leonora's sleeve as they stepped into the tavern.
"Mom! Don't forget what you promised me," she hissed.
Leonora blinked, caught off guard. "What promise?"
"To praise me in front of Zane! You know, so he'll think highly of me and agree to let me stay here after the Autumn Selection ends."
Leonora laughed lightly. "Alright, alright. I remember now. I'll shower you in compliments. Happy?"
"This is serious, Mama!" Alice whined, flustered. "If you mess this up, I won't get to stay at the tavern and learn cooking!"
The moment they walked in, however, both mother and daughter stopped in their tracks.
The atmosphere was heavier than usual. Everyone stood around the dismembered cow, silently staring at the precision-cut meat. It was as if they'd witnessed a divine act and were still processing it.
"What happened here…?" Alice asked cautiously, scanning the room.
Her gaze landed on Mana, whose calm composure seemed like an anchor amidst the reverent silence. Alice moved to her side.
"Aunt Mana, are you staying here tonight?"
Mana nodded with a soft smile. "I just arrived not long ago."
Alice had so many questions, but Mana's expression told her the moment had passed. Whatever miracle had occurred—it was over.
Zane, meanwhile, clapped his hands, breaking the trance. "Sonoka, Hisako—clean up the meat. Vacuum-seal the cuts and get them in the cold storage, labeled properly. We'll use different sections for tasting menus this week."
With a silent nod, the girls got to work.
Then Zane turned, calmly steeping two cups of tea, placing them in front of Leonora and Alice.
Huangshan Maofeng Tea.
The name carried ancient prestige. Originally crafted by Xie Zheng'an during the Qing dynasty, the tea was famous for its white-hair-covered buds, shaped like mountain peaks—thus the name "Maofeng."
A gentle steam rose from the cup. Buds floated and swayed, then slowly sank in the golden liquid. The scent that emerged was mesmerizing.
Floral, fruity, and honey notes mixed with a soft caramel undertone. Just inhaling the aroma brought clarity to the mind.
Leonora, who rarely indulged in tea, raised an eyebrow. "Intriguing."
She took a sip. The liquid was soft as silk, with a nectar-like smoothness. Then came depth—a rich, aged complexity. Hidden bitterness surfaced, but rather than overwhelm, it merged with a lively freshness.
"Rich. Layered. Alive," she murmured. "This tea… tells a story."
Alice took a tentative sip. Her eyes lit up.
Having grown up in Northern Europe, she was more accustomed to hot cocoa and herbal infusions. Afternoon teas never appealed to her—until now.
"This really is… different. No wonder they call it the pride of the Celestial Empire," she whispered.
The two sat in silence, each immersed in the unfolding bouquet of taste. It felt as though time slowed down, and the tea itself was leading them into contemplation.
Then, suddenly—Alice broke the calm.
"Zane!" she said, slamming her cup down with a grin. "I beat Megumi! I'm officially in the semifinals of the Autumn Selection!"
Zane gave her a look, expression unreadable. "And?"
"And that means I'm close to winning the championship!"
Zane tilted his head. "Erina's not competing?"
Alice faltered slightly. "Well, no. But I can take Hayama, Takumi, Ryo—even Soma!"
Zane still didn't react.
Alice scowled. "Don't you believe in me?"
Zane raised an eyebrow. "I believe you're very good. But confidence without grounding becomes arrogance."
"Mom, say something!" Alice whined. "Tell him how amazing I was against Megumi!"
Leonora sighed, placing her cup down gently. "Alice. Confidence can push us forward, yes. But arrogance blinds us. You're in the semifinals—that's admirable. But don't forget why you started cooking in the first place."
Alice blinked, thrown off.
"You keep chasing recognition. Accolades. But cooking is more than winning. It's about sharing warmth, emotion, memory. Have you forgotten that?"
"But… Hisako didn't make it. I did. Why can't I get a little praise for that?"
Leonora's gaze turned steely. "And what if you win everything, but lose your joy in cooking? Would that be worth it?"
Alice hesitated.
Zane finally smiled. "You're doing well, Alice. But remember—the knife doesn't care about titles. It cares about truth. And flavor never lies."
Alice flushed, embarrassed. She crossed her arms, pouting, but a small smile betrayed her appreciation.
Zane shifted the mood. "Well, you've both had your tea. How about something to eat?"
Leonora smiled faintly. "You know how we do things. You recommend."
Zane nodded. "Then I suggest Silkie Chicken Stuffed Rice."
Mana's eyes widened. "Silkie Chicken?"
Leonora blinked. "I've heard of that breed. But what's the dish like?"
Zane's eyes glinted. "You'll see."