All things can be made into curry.
When a nearly 15-inch plate was brought out, the chicken cutlet was so large that it almost overflowed.
With the addition of rice and salad, it was enough to fill the monk Alba to the point where he could barely walk.
Although curry chicken cutlet rice is not a complicated dish and is very simple, Senzaemon made every element to perfection.
The fresh, large chicken cutlet was coated in fine breadcrumbs and fried to a crispy, golden perfection without being greasy.
One bite produced a "crunch" sound, and the rich meat juices gushed out, hot and flavorful, bringing a deep sense of satisfaction and comfort.
The rice was, without exaggeration, the best Alba had ever eaten.
It was made from short, round, fat sushi rice, cooked until each grain was crystal clear and plump.
But it wasn't hard to chew; it was elastic, slightly sticky, and filled the mouth with a moist, lingering rice fragrance.
Finally, there was the curry.
With a home-style Japanese flavor, it was refreshing and slightly sweet, not greasy or heavy.
It covered the rice and chicken cutlet in a charming golden brown color, shining brilliantly.
Even the salad was not simple: iceberg lettuce and finely shredded purple cabbage, fresh enough to be pinched for juice.
The mayonnaise was also homemade by Senzaemon, not too thick or overly sweet. Mixed with the salad, it remained crisp and refreshing until the last bite!
...
A good meal can indeed change a person's "faith."
At this moment, looking at the empty plate in front of him, Alba felt deeply satisfied and said, "This is the kind of cooking that can give people hope, Senzaemon!"
"Master, are you satisfied now?"
Senzaemon, with a slight smile, softly replied.
"Satisfied, very satisfied. To be able to eat your cooking again in this life is truly unimaginable!"
Alba sighed, recalling his first meeting with Joichiro, and then curiously asked, "Joichiro, where have you been all these years?"
"I went back to Japan and have been running a small diner with my son."
Senzaemon's face was expressionless, as if he was calmly recounting the experiences of the past ten-plus years in the gentlest tone.
"You have a son?"
"Master, I'm almost forty, and my son is already sixteen," Senzaemon said, shrugging helplessly.
"Indeed, in the blink of an eye, almost twenty years have passed!"
Alba sighed deeply upon hearing this.
...
Clang!
At this moment, the heavy door slowly creaked open.
Then, under everyone's gaze, a mysterious young man with a dark cloth covering his face and wearing a baseball cap walked in with heavy steps.
His entrance instantly caused a stir in the room.
Especially the fierce and domineering aura he exuded, which almost made many people present feel suffocated.
"This establishment operates on a reservation basis."
"If you did not make a reservation, you cannot enter."
The staff, realizing that the visitor was not friendly and recalling the recent terror caused by the Midnight Chefs, hurriedly stepped forward to try and escort him out.
"Get out of my way! If you don't want to die, stay away from me." The masked man stopped and shouted.
Then, he pulled at the cloth covering his face slightly.
His eyes, sharp as swords, glared at them, and his entire demeanor resembled a hungry tiger, making everyone around even more fearful!
The staff immediately backed away in fear. Facing this mysterious masked man, they all felt a deep sense of despair.
"Hey!"
"Who are you?"
"This is a five-star hotel, only prestigious individuals like us are qualified to be here."
One of the guests, still somewhat afraid but mustering up courage, slammed the table and shouted angrily at the masked man.
"Qualified?"
"In that case, let me introduce myself."
"I am the leader of the Midnight Chefs, and also recognized as a chef in the dark culinary world by the WGO."
"With such credentials, do I qualify to enter this hotel?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the room fell silent.
Everyone stared in shock at the masked man.
Recently, just mentioning the Midnight Chefs would make anyone turn pale with fright.
But who could have thought that in such a remote mountain area, the boss-level figure of the Midnight Chefs would appear!
And he's so young. Could it be that the one causing such chaos in the culinary world is a mere teenager?
Is it possible that all the experienced chefs are truly powerless against him?
...
"What?"
"You're a Midnight Chef?"
"A masked man, wearing a cloak, and a baseball cap... This is exactly how the rumors described."
"He... He really is a Midnight Chef!"
"Strange, aren't they active in Northern Europe, the Americas, and Southeast Asia?"
"No, your information is outdated. The influence of these Midnight Chefs has already spread to Central Europe."
"Especially now in France, renowned restaurants across the country have fallen victim to their attacks."
"I heard even Shinomiya's SHINO'S restaurant had to close, and Shinomiya is now missing, probably back in Japan."
"Shinomiya? You mean the first Japanese person to receive the Pluspol Medal?"
"Heavens, even he was defeated by the Midnight Chefs?"
All at once, everyone began to discuss in hushed tones.
"Interesting."
"I guess your target is me?"
"I seem to have underestimated you Midnight Chefs, knowing my whereabouts so clearly."
Looking at the masked young man, Joichiro knew exactly what was happening.
"Yes, as expected of Joichiro."
"If you know what's good for you, sign this food war contract."
The masked youth did not waste words and directly pulled out a contract from his pocket. But as he stepped forward to hand it to Joichiro, Alba intervened, "Young man, Buddha says to have kind thoughts, speak kind words, and perform kind deeds."
"You are a rare talent, able to lead the dark culinary world at such a young age, which shows you have great potential."
"But with such abilities, you choose the wrong path and engage in evil deeds..."
"Old man, are you done?"
"I don't care about good or evil. My purpose here is to defeat Joichiro Saiba and become the top chef in the world."
"Anyone who tries to stop me or interfere with my plans will face the consequences..."
"Master, please step back."
"This battle with the Midnight Chefs is inevitable for me."
Seeing this, Joichiro stepped forward and said seriously.
"Alright, Joichiro, show him what the world's best chef is capable of."
Alba nodded and then stepped aside, leaving the space for Joichiro and the masked man.
...
"Such arrogance."
"Yeah, a mere kid challenging Joichiro?"
"Winning against Shinomiya and becoming so arrogant, clearly too young and reckless."
"Exactly!"
"Joichiro."
"Teach him a lesson."
In the kitchen of the hotel, Joichiro tightly gripped a kitchen knife, which glinted ominously under the light.
As Totsuki's strongest, a true pioneer and explorer of culinary excellence, Joichiro was highly regarded by everyone present, putting pressure on the masked man.
"You know?"
"I've waited five years for this day!"
The masked man pulled out a slightly worn kitchen knife from his case.
"Five years?"
Joichiro was stunned.
Then, seeing the kitchen knife in the masked man's hand, his lazy eyes instantly widened, and his face filled with disbelief, "That knife..."
"I see. I never thought it would be you."
"In just a few years, you've grown to the point where you can lead the entire dark culinary world?"
His mind flashed back to five years ago, when he parted with Asahi Saiba, giving him his kitchen knife from his student days, hoping he would work hard with it.
"Yes, in these five years, I've used your knife to defeat countless people."
"And now this knife will turn against you. You will be defeated by your own knife."
"All along, no matter which chef I faced, I used the surname Saiba, partly out of gratitude for your guidance, and partly because I always believed you were the world's strongest chef."
"Saiba, this surname, is the one I should truly have!"
The masked man gazed at the knife, murmuring to himself.
...
Meanwhile, back at the tavern.
Erina, who had just returned from the nearby meat and vegetable market with Zane, couldn't wait to enter Zane's room.
She lay lazily on the bed, engrossed in reading a popular manga titled "Slave of the Magic Capital's Elite Troops."
"So using a slave requires paying a corresponding price?"
"And this price, why... why are they all such intimate things?"
"The author is really something, the battle scenes are well drawn, but even the kissing scenes are heart-pounding!"
As she read, her face turned red. She kept recalling scenes where the female and male leads embraced and kissed deeply.
Yes, she wanted to keep reading.
People say men are like mangoes, looking yellow on the outside but being even more yellow inside.
And women? They are like eggs, appearing pure white on the outside but having a more vivid yellow inside than anything else!
So, it's not surprising that Erina, at her age, would secretly read such manga.
Time passed quickly.
When Erina reached the last page of the manga, she froze.
"It's over? How can it end at the crucial moment?"
"Sigh, if only Hisako were here. She would get me the next volume."
"These authors can't they work harder?"
"Can't they update all day and night?"
Feeling bored, Erina rolled around on the bed, completely unaware of how cute she looked.
"I'm
so bored, I want to know how the female lead feels after those things."
Blushing, Erina murmured.
With her God's Tongue ability, she had never thought about one thing:
What would it be like to kiss a boy?
"Yes, what... what would it be like?"
Erina clutched the bedding, whispering to herself.
In her mind, she couldn't help but picture Zane's handsome face, then enlarged it several times to imagine his beautiful lips.
"What's wrong with me?"
"Am I really longing for that kind of thing inside?"
Erina's heart became more and more confused.
...
Three hours passed.
At the base of a mountain, in a luxurious and exquisite building, inside the kitchen.
When the results of the culinary competition came out, everyone was stunned, unable to comprehend.
Lost?
Really lost?
The chef hailed as the best of his time, stronger than any Totsuki student.
Revered as the "Demon King," the "Wandering Chef," Joichiro Saiba, lost?
The entire kitchen was deathly silent. Everyone held their breath, staring in disbelief at the masked man.
"This can't be true?"
"Impossible, this can't be happening!"
"All five judges voted for the masked man, and Joichiro didn't get a single vote."
"A 5-0 result, this is too devastating."
"What happened?"
"Our most recognized top chef, the best culinary expert, Joichiro, lost..."
"Joichiro, are you okay?"
In the kitchen, Joichiro sat on the floor, seemingly drained of all strength.
Seeing this, Alba hurried over, concerned.
"I'm fine, just exhausted."
"After three hours of intense cooking, my body couldn't keep up."
Weakly raising his hand to reassure everyone, Joichiro then looked at the masked man, "You won. As expected, you have surpassed me!"
"Hey, who are you?"
Alba, pointing at the masked man, nervously asked.
"Me?"
"Asahi Saiba."
The masked man removed his mask and calmly replied.
Saiba? Isn't that a Japanese surname?
And Saiba... related to Joichiro? Wait, could he be Joichiro's son?
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