At that moment, a strange silence lingered over the other examination halls.
"Hey… Ishiki-kun?"
"Hm?"
"Did you notice?"
Ishiki looked up from his station, and for a moment, his thoughts seemed to drift. He glanced around, confused. The row of tables where dozens of examiners and students had once been focused... was practically empty.
"Huh...? Where is everyone?!"
"I heard they went to Hall A," a classmate replied, still holding a spoon in hand. "There's a student over there preparing four milk-based dishes at the same time... They say the aroma goes right through the walls."
"Four dishes... with milk?" Ishiki frowned. But deep down, he already knew who they were talking about.
"Damian," he muttered, covering half of his face with his hand, somewhere between amused and resigned. "His speed is insane... but what really draws people in is the feeling he conveys with every dish."
On the other side, Nene bit her lower lip lightly, eyes half-closed. She didn't need to guess. This could only be the work of one person.
She herself had spent days training her dairy-based recipes, seeking the perfect balance between richness and refinement. But... preparing four dishes at once, perfectly? Only Damian.
And even so, she still had to finish her own exam.
"Hey, Nene! Want to take a break? Some vanilla milk flan?"
"Terunori?! What are you doing here? Isn't your station in Hall C?"
He chuckled. "Yeah, but let's be honest. After the rumor about Damian spread, no one's been back there."
"That's not fair..."
"Fair or not, it's not every day you see someone cook like that. Want to take a look?"
She hesitated… and nodded.
**
As she stepped through the doors of Examination Hall A, Nene stopped.
The air inside was thick with the comforting scent of milk — but not raw or heavy. It was an elegant, refined aroma, almost like the scent of a garden shrouded in warm mist.
And there he was.
Damian moved as if conducting a silent orchestra. One hand precisely sliced fresh fruit for the panna cotta syrup. The other gently stirred the Crema di Latte in a double boiler. Beside him, a white polenta was being delicately finished with shavings of white truffle, and in the back, the steam from the Zuppa di Latte rose in calm spirals.
Everything in perfect harmony.
Students and guests crowded around him, mesmerized. Not only by the flavors — which drew sighs and teary eyes — but by the serenity with which Damian crafted each dish. His expression was calm, his gaze focused yet gentle. A soft smile lingered on his lips, as if cooking were as natural to him as breathing.
"This is..." Nene murmured, unable to finish her sentence.
"Magic," answered a student beside her. "He's telling a story through milk. And everyone wants to hear it."
Damian said nothing. He didn't need to. His dishes spoke for him.
**
Erina stood beside Hisako, still holding a spoonful of panna cotta. Its silky, fresh texture melted on her tongue, perfectly contrasted by the fragrant, tangy syrup.
She bit her lower lip, surprised by her own reaction.
"Gray-senpai..."
"Erina-sama?" Hisako turned to her, her voice barely a whisper.
"He looks... really handsome today," she murmured, without taking her eyes off Damian.
Hisako blushed and nodded. "Yes... very charming."
Nene was also watching in silence. But her thoughts ran deeper. She remembered the hours of practice, the mistakes, the frustrations, the sleepless nights — and now, looking at Damian, she understood something:
("You don't have to assign yourself a supporting role.")
("You can live a wonderful, free, and deeply fulfilling life.")
("Your efforts are your own domain.")
A faint shimmer welled up in her eyes, and for a moment, a tear threatened to fall. But she held it back.
("If I want to reach that level someday... then I need to accept who I am. Be proud of my journey.")
And then, something strange happened. A few people began to stand up. One or two judges quietly stepped away, subtly touching their stomachs.
Erina noticed and frowned. "Hisako... some people just left."
"Yes… maybe they're full?"
Erina pondered. "The dishes are delicate but complex. Milk is present in all of them… maybe the palate needs a break."
At that moment, Damian stretched his back and slowly wiped his knife. His gaze turned toward the crowd, then settled on Erina.
"Tired, Nakiri-san?"
She blinked. "Huh…? A little. My tongue feels… a bit numb."
He gave a slight smile. "Then… let me help you taste again."
"Eh…?"
Damian turned one last time, wiped down the counter, and began preparing something new. Everyone's eyes were once again drawn to him, captivated.
Just one last spoonful… before the end.
Suddenly, the room went completely silent.
As calm as ever, Damian stepped toward the covered pot resting discreetly in the corner of his station. It was the only one he hadn't opened yet — the final mystery of his presentation.
He placed his hand on the lid and, with a soft smile, looked at those still gathered around him.
"I imagine you're already satisfied with the previous dishes… But," his voice flowed like warm milk, "there's still one left. My closing piece. A final special..."
The lid was lifted slowly, releasing a wave of aromatic steam that caressed the air like a breeze from a seaside kitchen in a small Italian village.
"What is that...?" a student whispered, mesmerized by the scent.
"It's… is it a soup?"
"No… it's not just that. There's something different… There's a Japanese touch… but it also feels Italian!"
Damian nodded, a sparkle in his eyes.
"This dish is my Zuppa di Latte con Miso Bianco e Udon al Parmigiano. A light and comforting fusion between traditional Italian milk broth and the delicacy of Japanese white miso, finished with handmade udon noodles soaked in aged Parmesan cream."
"Created and prepared especially for this event," he said.
(End of Chapter)
Give me some power stones there you go~😉