This so-called scoring process was nominally identified, but not fully disclosed; instead, the scores were submitted into a box, which would later be collected and tallied by staff members from the Moon Institute.
On the high platform, the temporary examiners had already left, and only a few dozen examinees remained, all gathered outside. A teacher from the Moon Institute stepped forward to address the group, and the candidates immediately grew tense.
The teacher scanned the crowd.
"Now, I will announce the results of the transfer student examination."
"Two people have passed and will be admitted into the Moon Institute's senior division, joining as second-year high school students."
The candidates grew even more nervous, with some holding their breath.
"The first is—Tatsumi!"
A young boy suddenly burst into joyful excitement, unable to contain himself.
"The second—Mike!"
Another boy, the very one Ron had previously encountered. Compared to Tatsumi, Mike was far less animated, but his eyes were already welling up with tears. It had been incredibly difficult. Without being admitted to the Moon Institute's junior division, the only option was to struggle outside. Even though Mike's mother was a chef, her training could not possibly match the comprehensiveness of the Moon Institute's curriculum. A chef, unless they were truly extraordinary, could never achieve mastery in all areas.
Watching this, Ron felt a moment of quiet emotion. His path in this world had been relatively smooth. Born into the world's foremost family of assassins—the Zoldyck family—and blessed with the unique advantages of a transmigrator, he had gained overwhelming headway in developing Nen, becoming one of the most outstanding A-rank Nen users at a young age. Even now, as he stood on the threshold of S-rank, there were still people offering him inspiration and guidance.
Even someone like Oster, who had become a minister in the Saherta Federation—a position second only to the leader—still found himself deeply troubled in his pursuit of S-rank with no one to guide him with no ill intent.
"With the transfer exam complete, we will now proceed to this year's Elite Ten Challenge."
As the teacher's voice rang out, several figures emerged from another direction and stepped onto the high platform. The number of cooking stations on the platform increased to twenty. The judge's seats were arranged at the north end of the platform, with the seats for the Elite Ten on both sides. The remaining stations clearly belonged to the challengers.
"The rules of the Elite Ten Challenge are simple. Anyone who holds a challenge qualification may step onto the platform and challenge one of the Elite Ten."
"The theme is randomly assigned."
"A win earns you the seat of the Elite Ten."
"A loss results in disqualification from further challenges."
"Each challenger may attempt up to two battles. Choose your opponent wisely."
In short, the current Elite Ten would take their positions on stage, waiting to face challengers in succession. If they lost, they would be removed from their seat, though those who won could still be dethroned immediately by others. Holding onto an Elite Ten seat was not easy—it required not only culinary skill that surpassed others, but also exceptional stamina. This culinary prowess wasn't confined to a single specialty but needed to be all-encompassing. With random themes, anything could come up.
Ten figures stepped onto the platform one after another, each taking their respective place.
Ron wasn't part of Gourmet Paradise, so he had little personal impression of the Elite Ten. But for others, it was a different story; cries of surprise erupted one after another.
"Elite Ten No. 9—Ricardo!"
"He's just a second-year and already part of the Elite Ten. Incredible. I've heard he owns several restaurants in the World Zone."
"Go to one of his places, and you might get a chance to taste dishes at Elite Ten level."
"He's the most down-to-earth among the Elite Ten."
He was a pompadour-style youth with glasses. Despite the refined appearance, his aura was completely wild.
"Elite Ten No. 8—Alek!"
Also a second-year, his skills were said to rival Ricardo's. His spiky hair was distinctive—half blond, half black. He looked about the same age as Ricardo but came across as more youthful, with a stronger sense of boyishness.
Elite Ten No. 7 was a boy with short blond hair, radiating a gentle demeanor. Though his ranking was only slightly higher than the eighth and ninth, Ron could easily tell he was on an entirely different level—the aura of a Nen user emanated clearly from him.
Elite Ten No. 6 was a ponytailed girl with long braided hair, wearing a blank expression. Her chest was flat, her presence entirely emotionless—an archetypal kuudere girl.
Elite Ten No. 5 was a very tall boy, eyes closed, arms folded around a blade. It didn't resemble a kitchen knife, but more like a katana. Based on appearance alone, this person seemed more suited to Heaven's Arena than Gourmet Paradise's Moon Institute.
Elite Ten No. 4 was a girl with long purple hair who didn't look like she quite fit. She looked more like an elementary schooler than someone from Moon Institute. Her height dropped sharply compared to the others, and she was clutching a plush koala. Her outward appearance didn't match her age, but that was precisely what made her seen as an underdog. So many supported her.
Elite Ten No. 3 was an even more muscular boy than No. 5. If No. 5 resembled a samurai, then No. 3 was a martial artist, exuding an indifferent attitude toward everything—including this very challenge.
Elite Ten No. 2 was a girl with fiery red hair and a figure that could only be described as explosive. Her temperament seemed to match her appearance, emitting a shocking level of intensity.
From No. 2 to No. 1, the gap between them and the rest of the Elite Ten was enormous.
The Elite Ten could be split into three tiers:
No. 8 and No. 9 formed one level.
No. 7 and up (including No. 7) formed the next.
No. 2 and No. 1 were a tier of their own.
"Wait a minute—what about No. 10?"
"Where's the tenth one? Wasn't it supposed to be the Elite Ten? Why are there only nine?"
"I think No. 10 was someone named Hadaway, a third-year student. Where is he?"
Just then, a figure slowly stepped onto the platform.
She had short white hair, and her appearance instantly drew everyone's attention. Upon seeing the white-haired girl, the crowd fell into stunned silence.
"Who's that?"
"Is she a new member of the Elite Ten?"
"What's going on?"
Ron's brow rose slightly.
"This girl... she looks remarkably like Senior Linne when she was younger."
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