A reverent silence fell over the crowd.
"One bowl per person," Damian added, placing a row of small bowls on the counter.
"Please, eat while it's still hot."
Hands moved forward quickly, but with restraint—like approaching a work of art. The aroma was complex: milk reduced with fresh herbs, a subtle pinch of nutmeg, the elegant saltiness of miso, and the umami of dashi, hidden like a low note in a gentle song.
Erina was among the first to taste it. As she brought the spoon to her mouth, a shiver ran down her spine.
"Hah..." she exhaled, surprised.
The texture was sublime—like liquid silk wrapping around the tongue. The milk, slowly cooked with shallots, thyme, and kombu leaves, had developed a depth that only time could offer. The handmade udon had perfect elasticity, absorbing the broth like a soft sponge.
The touch of white miso was delicate, bringing an earthy sweetness that blended with the creaminess of Parmesan—an unlikely, yet perfect marriage. Each spoonful revealed a new nuance: the heat of fresh ginger, the acidity of Sicilian lemon, the subtle aroma of sage.
Erina closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away by the sensation.
It felt like being in a countryside home in the hills of Tokyo, where an Italian grandmother and a Japanese grandmother were cooking together to soothe the heart.
"This... this isn't just food. It's a memory of something I've never lived, but miss deeply," she murmured, moved.
"As expected from senpai..." she whispered.
"He saved the best for last."
Hisako, beside her, widened her eyes.
"What do you mean, Erina-sama?"
"Think, Hisako. All of his dishes featured milk as the protagonist: starting with the Zuppa di Latte as a comforting appetizer, then the Polenta di Latte as a firm side dish, the Crema di Latte with herbs that warmed the soul, Panna Cotta al Latte, and now... this. A dish that symbolizes the union of two cultures through the simplicity of one ingredient."
"He built a sensory journey where milk—often seen as a supporting ingredient—became the thread that tied the entire narrative together. And now, with this final fusion, he closes the cycle masterfully."
Murmurs in the courtyard grew louder.
"This deserves a Michelin star!"
"I never imagined something with milk could taste like this..."
"It feels like a soft farewell... like he's saying 'see you soon' with this dish..."
Dojima crossed his arms, watching Damian with a thoughtful gaze.
"This boy never stops surprising me," he murmured.
One of the guests, still stunned, commented:
"And to think the main ingredient was milk... He managed to create four completely distinct dishes with it, keeping it fresh and surprising every time."
Chapelle nodded slowly, folding his hands behind his back.
"It's like watching an artist give quick, precise, and gentle brushstrokes to his canvas."
"The most impressive part is that he did all of it within the time limit, calmly, and still left room to breathe. Nothing excessive, nothing rushed. Just precision and emotion," Inui Hinako added with a mischievous smile.
"This last dish..." said Dojima.
"It was the hidden answer to the challenge. Something light, yet unforgettable. A dish that ends the meal with peace, not excess."
Chapelle smiled.
"I don't believe there's anything left to judge. This student is already on another level."
"I agree," said Dojima.
"Let's exempt him from the evaluation. And more than that..."
He looked toward the rest of the judges.
"I want Damian to join the evaluation panel."
"Hmm..." Chapelle nodded.
"A fair decision."
The hall was filled with laughter and conversation, while the aroma of Damian's creations lingered in the air, awakening everyone's appetite. People stood, watching the booth eagerly as Damian continued his culinary dance with the same calm demeanor that always defined him. Amid the crowd, a tall man in a white overcoat observed intently, his eyes locked onto Damian's kitchen. He had tasted the dishes, and although surrounded by a sea of delicacies, he couldn't help but be impressed by the young chef's skill.
He muttered to himself, his deep and distinct voice resonating faintly:
"Impressive... Truly impressive."
Jotaro wasn't a man easily impressed, but there was something in the way Damian prepared his dishes that made him pause. He furrowed his brow, thinking:
"This must be the boy... the one Rindō mentioned. He has the same Stand as Yoshikage Kira, doesn't he?"
Jotaro's senses were on full alert, and he knew that behind Damian's skill and style, there was something more. With a subtle motion, he activated his Stand—Star Platinum. The powerful manifestation of his Stand approached Damian swiftly, yet imperceptibly to others.
Damian, with his sharpened awareness, immediately sensed Star Platinum's presence. His eyes narrowed—he recognized the Stand with ease, memories of a past life helping him identify the force drawing near.
"This..." Damian thought. He showed no surprise, staying focused, choosing to ignore Jotaro and his Stand for now.
Star Platinum, moving with precision and speed, slipped a small piece of paper into Damian's pocket. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but Damian was fully aware of what had taken place. He felt the touch of Star Platinum's hand and, without missing a beat, gave a quick glance in Jotaro's direction.
He knew that later, when the time was right, he would read what was written on that piece of paper. For now, he remained immersed in his culinary art, fully absorbed in the atmosphere and flavors he was creating for everyone.
Jotaro watched for a moment, seeing that Damian didn't react immediately to the Stand's action. Satisfied, he stepped back slightly, his eyes still fixed on the chef, but taking no further action. The crowd around them continued enjoying the dishes, unaware of the silent exchange that had just taken place.
(End of chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."
I returned, just for the updates on Sunday (Maybe on Saturday too), today there will only be two but I intend to increase it.