"…Disgusting," Nakiri Erina said with an ice-cold voice, sharp as a kitchen blade, sending a shiver through the room.
The boy flinched, and the audience gasped.
"This burger is a monumental disaster. The Wagyu is drowned in grease because of the foie gras. The caviar bursts salt against the truffle aioli in the most unpleasant way. The bun can't even hold it all, it's soggy and collapsing. Not to mention…" she narrowed her eyes, "a burger you can't hold isn't fast food. It's just a failure."
In her mind's eye, she saw a golden tower collapsing, crushed under the weight of its own greed.
Leonora took a bite next. She chewed once, frowned, then sipped her water with casual grace.
"Ehh… how you say… It's like… money sandwich?" She tilted her head. "Too much richness, no harmony. Heavy, but empty. Pretty to look at, not to eat."
Finally, Dojima spoke with a stern tone. "You stacked richness on richness without understanding balance. The truffle cream overwhelms the foie gras, the pastry is soggy from poor timing, and the gold flakes are nothing but a tasteless distraction. This dish is an expensive disaster."
The scoreboards buzzed.
Erina: 0 / Leonora: 5 / Dojima: 3 — Total: 8 points.
The boy, unable to handle the harsh criticism, ran off in tears. But the judges, unfazed, continued to assess the other contestants.
"Next contestant," the announcer called.
A girl with short brown hair stepped forward, holding a tray with quiet confidence.
"My dish is... Carnitas Street Tacos with a cilantro-lime crema and pickled onions," she said. "Corn tortillas, slow-cooked pork shoulder, traditional spices."
The dish was colorful, neatly plated, and smelled warm and inviting.
The judges took a bite. This time, they didn't look immediately displeased, but they weren't impressed either.
Erina tapped her lips with a napkin. "It's not bad," she said, her tone almost bored. "But it's far too ordinary. This would be fine at a food truck. But this is Totsuki. We don't settle for average. There's nothing here that surprises me."
Leonora nodded, "It's okay. Good texture, pork well-cooked, but… nothing exciting, yes?"
Dojima exhaled softly. "You clearly know how to cook. But you played it safe. There's no signature. No identity. It's a normal dish and that's all it is."
The scoreboard updated:
Erina: 25 / Leonora: 30 / Dojima: 28 — Total: 83 points.
A more respectful score than the previous one, but nowhere near enough to compete for the top three.
The girl bowed and returned to her station, her face was calm but clearly disappointed.
That girl might have had low points, but that's actually on the higher side. Most of the children had made dishes filled with expensive ingredients in an attempt to impress, but none succeeded.
"Disgusting."
"Disgusting."
"Disgusting."
"Disgusting."
These were the only words Erina offered as her reviews. None of the contestants managed to score higher than 30 from a single judge.
"Wow, this is brutal," Akira thought, astonished by the relentless scoring.
Even Senzaemon, watching from the VIP section, hadn't anticipated the children's cooking to be this poor. He had assumed that, being from prestigious culinary backgrounds, they would fare better. However, most of the more talented children hadn't shown up for various reasons, leaving behind a group that was clearly overestimated.
"It seems I made a mistake with this competition," Senzaemon thought, disappointed. But as his gaze shifted to the boy with snow-white hair and purple eyes, calmly waiting for his turn with a confident smile, he felt a glimmer of hope. Akira's parents had said their son could work miracles. Senzaemon hoped he could perform one now, for both him and his granddaughter.
In the VIP room, Erika looked on at the harsh judging and the crying children with a sad expression.
"Isn't this too cruel?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern. She didn't understand why the judges were being so harsh.
"Totsuki has always been strict about food," Ryuji replied with an awkward smile. Even he hadn't expected the scoring to be this severe.
"Can Akira really win this?" Erika asked, worry evident in her voice.
"Well, at this point, winning seems easy enough. All he had to do was make normal food," Iori said with a reassuring smile, though even he wasn't sure if Akira could pull it off.
"It'll be fine. Look, Akira is still smiling," Yuki said, looking at her son, who had a calm and confident smile.
Indeed, while the other children appeared terrified of their turn, Akira stood patiently, wearing a smile as though he was completely confident in his dish.
By now, Nakiri Erina was becoming increasingly irritated. Not a single dish had come close to satisfying her palate. Only a few of the contestants had made something straightforward, like regular fast food, which was passable. But most of them aimed too high, attempting to use expensive ingredients they clearly didn't know how to handle. The result was one disaster after another, leaving her frustrated and eager to go home.
Just as she was resigning herself to the end of this disaster of a competition, the last contestant approached with his dish. Erina recognized him instantly. He was the boy with snow-white hair and those striking purple eyes, Hoshino Akira. Now that he was closer, she could see his eyes more clearly. They seemed to contain the entire starry sky, unlike anything she had ever seen.
Watching him cook earlier, Erina hadn't been able to figure out what he was making. It had seemed as if he were putting random ingredients together without rhyme or reason, so she was really curious about what he made.
Akira stepped forward confidently and presented his dish. But when Erina and the other judges saw it, they were all shocked.
"What the hell is this?" Erina exclaimed aloud, staring in disbelief at the monstrosity before her.
Clearing his throat, Akira began to introduce his dish. "For the first time since the dawn of creation, all major food groups align in the cosmos: Taco, Burger, Hotdog, Pizza, all coming together to form... El Burdigato Supreme!"