Realizing he was falling behind, Akira suddenly shifted gears. Without hesitation, he began multitasking. Kneading dough, grinding meat, and preparing other ingredients all at once. He moved with such precision and speed that even the trained chefs watching couldn't follow what he was doing.
"What is he even trying to make? I can't figure it out," Dojima Gin muttered, squinting at the chaotic workstation.
"Hm, he's doing a lot at once. What an interesting child," Nakiri Leonora said with a curious smile, clearly intrigued.
"His station is a disaster. I don't even want to look anymore," Erina commented with a huff of disapproval, though her eyes kept stealing glances at him despite herself.
But no matter how long they watched, no one could figure out what Akira was actually making. He kept jumping from one dish to another, baking brioche buns, grilling sausages, and even preparing tacos. Nothing followed a clear pattern, and the more they observed, the less sense it all made. Eventually, the judges and audience decided to shift their focus to the other contestants for a while.
Compared to Akira, the other children's stations looked calm and orderly, which brought a sense of relief to the spectators. But when they glanced back at Akira's station, their eyes widened in disbelief.
His entire workspace was now buried under a mountain of vegetables and half-prepared food. There was so much clutter, they couldn't even see what he was doing anymore.
Looking at the disaster of the station, Nakiri Erina's patience finally snapped.
She slammed her small hand against the table and rose with an irritated scowl.
"Enough! This is ridiculous. He's wasting ingredients, turning his station into a disaster, and no one even knows what he's trying to make. I'm disqualifying him!"
Just as she reached for the staff, Leonora Nakiri lifted a hand, her calm smile carrying a trace of intrigue.
"Erina-chan, wait. Let him cook."
Erina turned to her aunt in disbelief. "What?"
Leonora chuckled, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Akira dart between bowls and pans like a whirlwind. "It's interesting, isn't it? I've never seen a child cook like this before. I don't know what he's doing, but… it looks fun."
"Fun?" Erina repeated, aghast.
Leonora nodded. "Mhm. And who knows? Sometimes, the fun dishes taste the best. Besides, he's not breaking any rules, right?"
Erina looked like she was about to argue again, but as she glanced back at Akira, who was now kneading dough with one hand while stirring minced meat with the other, she let out a sigh and slumped back into her seat.
"Whatever. I don't care anymore," she muttered with a huff.
Time passed quickly as Akira continued cooking, completely absorbed in his whirlwind of tasks, and soon the competition neared its final stretch.
"TEN MINUTES REMAINING!" the announcer called out.
Most of the contestants were already in the final stage of cooking. Some had even begun carefully plating their dishes, ready to present them.
But Akira was still in the middle of cooking, and it didn't look like he would be finishing anytime soon.
In the VIP room, the tension was thick.
Yuki and Ryuji, Akira's parents, leaned forward in their seats, eyes narrowed. Erika clutched the armrest tightly, and even Iori looked as if he might start biting his nails at any moment.
"What is he doing…?" Erika whispered.
"Still cooking…? With only ten minutes?" Iori muttered.
Then, one by one, the other contestants finished their dishes, stepping back from their stations with confident smiles. Their polished plates were placed before the judges with care.
"ONE MINUTE REMAINING!" the announcer shouted.
At that very moment, Akira suddenly stopped cooking and started plating.
His hands moved with precise, practiced speed, pouring, slicing, arranging, layering.
"Oh no, he is not going to make it?" Erika whispered with a worried expression.
As the final seconds ticked away, the tension grew unbearable.
"TEN… NINE… EIGHT…"
Akira placed the main components onto a large plate, quickly arranging sides and sauces with surprising grace.
"SEVEN… SIX… FIVE…"
He wiped the plate's edges, added a final garnish, and placed it onto a serving tray.
"FOUR… THREE… TWO…"
In one smooth motion, he covered the dish with a shining metal cloche.
"ONE!"
DING!
"TIME'S UP!"
Akira stepped back, hands raised. He was a little tired, but he had a victorious smile, as if he were an artist who had finished his masterpiece.
Everyone stared in stunned silence at the covered dish on his counter, no one had a clue what was under that lid.
But he barely made it in time.
Everyone in the VIP room sighed in relief.
Akira had managed to finish cooking, just barely, but for his family and friends watching from the VIP room, the tension hadn't eased one bit.
It wasn't over yet.
This next part would decide everything: the review stage.
"Now, with the cooking stage complete, let's proceed to the review stage," the announcer declared. The competition had shifted to its final phase, judging.
"There are three judges, each able to give up to 100 points. That means the total possible score is 300 points. The top three scorers will receive the grand prizes!"
The lights dimmed slightly, focusing on the presentation stage.
"Now, let's welcome our first contestant!"
A young boy, about ten years old, stepped forward to present his dish to the judges.
"So, what have you made?" Dojima asked.
"My dish is a Wagyu-Truffle Caviar Burger," he announced proudly. "Brioche bun with A5 Wagyu beef, white truffle aioli, Osetra caviar, foie gras, and edible gold leaf on top."
Gasps and impressed murmurs echoed in the hall.
"Using all those expensive ingredients…"
The burger was piled high with expensive ingredients: thick slices of A5 wagyu, pan-seared foie gras, a truffle aioli, a saffron-infused brioche bun, and even a sprinkle of edible gold leaf. It looked luxurious, almost like it belonged on a five-star menu instead of a fast-food competition.
And one by one, the judges leaned forward and took their first bite. Dojima's expression was unreadable. Leonora offered a professional smile. Erina, however, examined the burger like it were a threat to her reputation.
She picked it up with a fork and knife, cautiously cutting a bite-sized piece.
As soon as the flavors hit her tongue, her expression darkened.
Her expressions shifted from confusion to discomfort.
Erina placed her fork down and stared at the boy as if he had personally offended her soul.
"…Disgusting," she said with an ice-cold voice.